Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

TW: Eating disorders/purging, mentions of abuse

The halls of the Sunshine Kingdom gleamed with gold, every corner echoing with a brightness so blinding it could mask even the deepest of shadows. Stained glass windows cast fragmented rainbows across the polished floors, and crystal chandeliers hung high above, their light refracting into countless shimmering fragments. The splendor of the palace was inescapable, suffocating in its perfection. At the center of it all, the youngest prince, Lee Felix, sat stiffly at the long dining table, his hands folded neatly in his lap, the perfect image of obedience. His golden hair, a hallmark of the royal bloodline, caught the morning sun, but his eyes—once filled with boyish wonder—were dulled by years of compliance.

Across from him, the queen sat, regal and composed, her every movement a deliberate assertion of her power. She had ruled the kingdom with an iron will disguised beneath a veil of charm. Her word was law, her decisions absolute. Felix's sister sat next to her, her posture as straight as a soldier's, though her expression betrayed varying levels of disinterest or irritation. The queen's voice cut through the stifling silence like the sharp edge of a blade. "I've found a worthy mate for you, Felix," She announced, her tone as calm and eloquent as always.

Felix's breath hitched, though his face betrayed nothing. His hands twitched beneath the table, the only outward sign of the dread pooling in his chest. He didn't need to ask for details—his mother's decisions were final, and his opinion had never been a factor.

Across the table, his sister, Camilla, had been delicately sipping her tea when the announcement struck. She froze mid-sip, her brows furrowing as her thoughts churned. Finally, she sputtered, choking slightly before slamming her cup down with enough force to rattle the china. "But Mother—it hasn't even been two bloody months since his last engagement was cut off!" Camilla exclaimed, her voice high and indignant. "He cannot be a bride, nor can he keep a relationship without it ending weirdly. If you would just choose me instead—"

"Silence, Camilla," The Queen shut her down, her tone cold enough to make even the servants in the corner flinch. "This is exactly why you're not getting mated. You have yet to stop your immature ways and meaningless bickering. No alpha will take you like that. Do you understand?"

Camilla's cheeks flushed an angry red. She opened her mouth as if to argue, but under her mother's icy glare, she quickly reconsidered. "Yes, Mother," She muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

The queen returned her gaze to Felix. There was no kindness in her expression, only expectation. "You will meet them next week. Prepare yourself."

Felix nodded, his face an unreadable mask. Inside, a storm churned. His last engagement had ended in quiet disaster, the alpha - he had actually been becoming fond to - leaving without explanation and leaving him humiliated before the court. No one had cared about his heartbreak, only the political inconvenience it had caused. His throat felt dry as he finally forced himself to speak. "...Who will I be engaged to?"

The queen's expression softened—not with kindness, but with the facade of someone wearing a mask. "You will be engaged to an alpha from the Northern Territories, the kingdom of Artevmia's prince, Hwang Hyun-jin."

His sister gasped, her eyes widening in horror. "That crazed man?!" She blurted out, her voice rising an octave. "You cannot be serious, mother, he—"

The queen arched a brow, her composure unshaken. "Do not overreact, Camilla. I know what relationships are beneficial for us, and his army will benefit our kingdom."

But Camilla wouldn't be silenced this time. "He's cursed, Mother!" She hissed, leaning forward. "They say he's mad–That he fights with brute force as if possessed by the demons and monsters he kills! His personality is rotten, too, unbefitting of royalty. The girls in my social circle whisper that he doesn't even feel pain—that he rather enjoys it. But.." She lowered her voice slightly. "I suppose he is...handsome, and that makes up for it. However, he is also rumored he killed a few of his past wives –"

"Camila Elenora lee!" The queen shot her another glare, urging her to shut her mouth, but Felix found himself wondering about the same things from the moment his name was brought up. He'd heard those stories, and other ones too—how the Prince of Artevmia had risen to fame not just for his skill but for the unrelenting ferocity he brought to the battlefield. He was a legend, a war hero, feared by enemies and allies alike. And at the same time, someone with hundreds of disgusting rumors circulating about him...just as he did. So he could only wonder if this new engagement would end in another round of whispered gossip in the halls, another mark against his reputation as the kingdom's sun.

"Ignore her, Felix," The queen interjected, her voice cutting through the rising tension. "Artevmia's political strength and army are exactly what this kingdom needs. The Prince's reputation may be...unconventional, but it will not hinder your duty. You will marry him, without a fault, and you will bring honor to our kingdom. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother," Felix murmured, though his voice felt distant, detached. This was his final chance, likely, and if he didn't succeed, then...

Felix's gaze dropped to his untouched plate as everyone resumed eating. The food before him was as ornate as the kingdom itself, but it went untouched, its rich aroma turning his stomach. Felix sat frozen, his mind spiraling as he imagined the life ahead of him—the expectations, the alliances, the endless sacrifices. He stared so intently at his plate that he didn't notice the chair next to him being drawn back or the imposing presence settling beside him.

A cold, rough hand landed on his shoulder, and Felix stiffened.

"Felix."

The voice was smooth yet unnervingly familiar. Felix's stomach churned, but it was the ring he recognized first. Carved from pure gold, it bore a sunstone centerpiece, surrounded by small jewels in intricate patterns. It was gaudy, ostentatious—an accessory unbefitting a mage like him, Felix thought bitterly. "Cousin," He greeted, forcing a bright smile onto his lips, though it didn't quite reach his dim eyes. "I'm... glad you could join us."

Han Jiho smiled back, a sharp, pleased expression that didn't ease the tension in Felix's chest. Jiho was a man of commanding stature, taller and broader than Felix, his muscular frame wrapped in elegant magic robes that seemed designed to show off his physique. His dark brown hair, perfectly styled, framed his sharp features handsomely, and his deep brown eyes gleamed with something that Felix found utterly unsettling. Jiho's smile widened as he reached out, his rough fingers brushing a stray lock of Felix's golden hair. The touch was way too intimate for his comfort. "Felix, I've missed you so much, you were all I could think about," He said softly, his tone thick with something that Felix couldn't—or wouldn't—name. "It's unfortunate that my task overseas kept me away for so long."

Felix's stomach twisted violently, his forced smile faltering for a fraction of a second before he managed to steady it. "It's...good to see you again, Jiho," He replied, though the words tasted like ash and sand and every dry particle of dust in the air.

Jiho's gaze was piercing, too focused, as if Felix were the only person in the room. "You look well," He continued, his fingers trailing down the strand of hair before finally releasing it. "I heard you're getting married again. I'm so sorry about the trouble with your last engagement—who was it with again? The Prince of Ravena? Such a...shame, truly. They never seem to understand how special you are."

Felix's skin crawled, but he kept his expression neutral, his smile fixed in place like a mask. "Things like that happen," He said lightly, trying to steer the conversation away.

Jiho chuckled, low and warm, but it sent shivers down Felix's spine. "Nevertheless, You deserve someone who appreciates you—someone who understands you completely." He said firmly, his voice dropping into something almost possessive.

He wanted to vomit. The way Jiho spoke, the way he looked at him—it was all wrong. Jiho's touch burned on his shoulder, and Felix's mind screamed at him to pull away, to run, to do anything but sit there and endure. But he stayed perfectly still, his body betraying no sign of the revulsion coursing through him. "...I'll keep that in mind," Felix said quietly, his voice tight.

Jiho's smile softened, but it didn't feel comforting. It felt predatory. "Good," He murmured, his eyes crinkling at the corners as they always did when he looked at Felix. "You know we only want the best for you."

"I do," Felix nodded mechanically, every nerve in his body on edge. The meal dragged on painfully, Jiho's presence suffocating beside him. Felix's appetite was long gone, replaced by a nauseating sense of dread. He didn't know if it was the sudden engagement or Jiho's unsettling behavior that made him feel so trapped.

All he knew was that he couldn't breathe.

And when they were finally dismissed, that feeling increased tenfold.

Because instead of going to do his own thing, Jiho followed Felix to his personal library. And his heart sank like a stone in water.

"Dare I say you seemed a little upset at your marriage news," Jiho's voice came from behind, smooth and disarming, though it sent chills down Felix's spine. "Are you not satisfied with marrying that alpha? You can tell me anything."

Felix forced his expression to remain neutral as he turned slightly in his chair, setting the book down that he planned to read before his sudden appearance. "No, it's something else—but it's trivial. It doesn't matter—"

"It does." Jiho stepped closer, his tone firm yet patronizing. "If someone or something is bothering you, you need to tell me. I'm your cousin, and I care about you."

More like unhealthily obsessed with him, Felix thought bitterly.

"I..." His words stuck in his throat, trapped between the truth and the lies he needed to survive.

"Don't be scared to tell me," Jiho pressed, crouching slightly to look him in the eye.

Felix's jaw tightened as he forced himself to speak. "I'm...sad I won't get to see you anymore," He said, the words grating on his tongue like shards of glass. "Like I always have been with each time I'm sent away for a marriage."

Jiho's eyes softened as though he'd been waiting for this answer. "So," he said, his voice lowering, "Would you rather stay here with me than be with your next husband?"

Felix nodded, the weight of his feigned sincerity suffocating. "Yes,"

"How sweet of you," Jiho murmured, a smug smile curling his lips. "It makes me feel honored to know the sunshine of the kingdom wants to stay by my side. Fear not, though, I'll try to visit you whenever I can."

"Perfect," Felix looked down at his book again, flipping a page in hopes Jiho would take the hint and leave. Instead, he felt the press of fingers under his chin, tilting his head back. He's glad the touch wasn't somewhere else this time.

"Look at me," Jiho said softly.

"Jiho," Felix said slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I simply want your gaze on me. But..." His grip on Felix's chin tightened, his dark eyes gleaming with an intensity that made Felix's skin crawl. "I promise you I can fix everything and make you happy."

Felix's heart pounded in his chest as Jiho's hold lingered, suffocating and possessive. He clenched his fists beneath the desk, nails digging into his palms to ground himself. "I don't need anything fixed," He said calmly, though his voice trembled slightly.

Jiho pressed his lips together, his thumb brushing over Felix's jawline in a way that made him want to recoil. "You don't have to lie to me, Felix. I know you better than anyone. You're upset, and I don't like seeing you like this."

No, you don't know me. Felix thought as he stared into Jiho's eyes, wishing desperately for someone to walk in. Jiho only knew what was carefully portrayed on the outside, the version of Felix that had been crafted to perfection by the family's guidance. He was obsessed—not with the person Felix truly was, but with the doll, the lifeless image Felix had been forced to become. A doll that had no autonomy, no voice, no freedom. And if that doll ever dared to step out of line, if it didn't play its part exactly as it should, the consequences were swift and brutal.

Punishments that came in a series of things—pain that stung and lingered long after the initial blows. Whipped for speaking too boldly. Bruised for not smiling brightly enough. Abused mentally in ways that left invisible scars deeper than any physical wound. And the main person inflicting it all? The one before him who claimed to respect and "care" him. The one who insisted that no one else in the world could understand Felix better than he did.

Felix's gaze hardened as he stared back at his cousin, suppressing the bile that rose in his throat. Jiho's grip on his chin remained firm, his thumb brushing over Felix's skin like he was handling some priceless artifact. But Jiho wasn't touching a treasure. He was gripping a cage, one Felix was trapped inside. As much as he hated this, he knew he couldn't falter. Not now. If he resisted, Jiho's possessiveness would twist into something far more dangerous, and Felix couldn't afford that.

So he played along, his expression softening into something carefully neutral, a mask crafted over years of survival. "Of course, Jiho," Felix murmured, his voice calm, almost sweet, though each word felt like poison on his tongue. "You're right. I shouldn't keep things from you. Thank you for understanding."

Jiho's smile widened, the satisfaction in his eyes making Felix's stomach churn. "That's better," Jiho said, his tone warm yet laced with something unsettling. "You're always so sensible, Felix. It's one of the many things I admire about you."

Felix resisted the urge to recoil as Jiho brushed over his lips, his eyes flickering to them as though he was considering leaning in.

"I won't be able to see you off for your wedding, unfortunately," Jiho continued, his voice dipping into something almost regretful. "Training will keep me occupied, and I doubt I'll have as many opportunities as I want to visit once you're settled with your...new husband."

Felix forced a small, polite smile, though he could feel bile rising in his throat. "That's unfortunate," He said with a fake frown, his words measured to perfection. "But I understand. It's a shame we won't get to say goodbye properly."

"You'll think of me then, won't you? Every hour."

Felix swallowed hard, forcing himself to nod. "Of course. Always," He replied, his voice steady despite the nausea clawing at his insides.

Jiho lingered for a moment longer, his touch burning like fire against Felix's skin. Then, finally, he stepped back, his contented smirk leaving Felix feeling even more suffocated than before. "Goodbye, then, Felix," He said with a small, knowing smile. "Don't forget I'm always here for you. I'll leave a letter for you when you arrive, make sure you read it, hmm?"

As soon as Jiho left the library, Felix bolted. His feet carried him through the marble halls, past servants and guards, to his private quarters. The moment he was inside, he slammed the door shut, locking it behind him before rushing to the bathroom. He barely made it to the sink before doubling over, his stomach heaving. His fingers trembled as he shoved them down his throat, desperate to purge the vile weight that had settled inside him, and whatever light had settled in his stomach hours prior. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he gagged, his body convulsing violently.

When he finally pulled his fingers out, his knees buckled, and he sank to the cold tiled floor, gasping for breath. The taste of bile lingered in his mouth, but it wasn't enough. Nothing would ever be enough to rid him of the feeling Jiho left behind. Felix leaned his forehead against the edge of the sink, his shoulders trembling. He hated this. Hated himself for playing along like an obedient dog. Hated Jiho for turning his life into more of a prison.

But most of all, he hated that he couldn't escape it.

To the world, he was the sun—warm, inviting, and perfect. But to himself, he was merely a shell, the kingdom's puppet—their beautiful, lifeless figure. Every act of kindness he performed was orchestrated, every smile choreographed, every word rehearsed, and every decision Felix he was forced to make was predetermined—whom to befriend, what to say, how to dress, even how to be. His family treated him not as a son, but as a piece on their chessboard, moved to maintain the kingdom's perfect image.

The Queen wielded control over him like a tyrant did his country. She dictated which noble families he would entertain and which alliances he would strengthen simply by existing. His father, though less involved, turned a blind eye to the manipulation, caring only that Felix fulfilled his role as the kingdom's shining emblem. His sister, harboring her own ambitions, worried more about currying favor with the queen through him and advancing standing in court.

Felix had no say in his own life; his family made that known every year. Every month. Every week. Every day. Every hour, minute, and second he breathed. No one asked him how he felt about it. No one cared to know the toll of living for others, of carrying the title of "sun" while his own light flickered faintly in the distance, overshadowed by the weight of the empire.

The only thing he really had to himself...was his anorexia.

No one ever noticed the way Felix barely touched his meals, pushing food around his plate until it became cold and unappetizing. The cooks, under strict orders from the queen, prepared elaborate dishes meant to showcase the wealth and elegance of the kingdom. Felix hated them. The rich, heavy sauces, the decadent desserts—all of it felt suffocating, like a cage in yet another form.

When the servants weren't watching, he would discreetly dispose of his food, sliding bits of it into napkins or feeding scraps to the castle's dogs. He perfected the art of making it look like he had eaten, rearranging his plate to fool anyone who might glance his way. At royal banquets, he sipped water and nibbled on sweet bread, smiling politely as his stomach ached with emptiness.

The ache in his stomach was a quiet rebellion, a whisper of autonomy in a life where every other choice was stripped from him. The feeling of lightheadedness, of being untethered from his physical body, was a relief—a way to escape if only temporarily, the constant weight of expectation. But it wasn't just that. Felix disliked the way his body felt, the way it was looked at, the way he had been an omega, and the way he was used as a tool for the kingdom's benefit. He wanted to disappear, to shrink until there was nothing left for others to manipulate.

His head spun slightly as he pushed himself to stand, gripping the edge of the sink for balance. He avoided his reflection in the mirror, knowing the sight of his pale complexion would only deepen the pit in his stomach. He held his palm out, filling it with water to rinse the bile from his mouth, and forced himself to take a few deep breaths. This was normal. This was necessary. Because in a world where he was the sun, the only thing he could hold onto was his condition, at least, something he could control.

—

Accordingly, a week later, the betrothal happened as planned. After getting dressed by the maids, he stood in front of a gold mirror, his reflection staring back at him with hollow eyes. The sunlight streaming through the stained glass bathed him in radiant hues, and he wished his mood could be as bright.

"Smile, Felix," He muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper. He adjusted his collar, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. Beyond the grand door, his family awaited, their expectations looming like a noose. He hesitated behind it, his hand trembling on the gilded handle. For a fleeting moment, he wondered what it might feel like to step away from this life, to shatter the golden facade and let the darkness spill out. But that was just a fantasy—another story to keep him company in the loneliness of his mind. He could only hope the alpha he was marrying would take a liking to him, sparing him from another broken engagement. Maybe then he wouldn't have to return to this suffocating place, if only for a while.

When Felix finally stepped into the grand hallway, he was met with the gaze of his family. His father, rarely present in these moments, was the first to approach. "I thought you were an angel the moment you came out," The king said, his tone distant yet oddly reverent. "I hope you find this transition well."

Felix swallowed thickly and bowed his head in acknowledgment. He couldn't bring himself to answer, the words sticking in his throat. Next to him, his mother stood tall, regal in her embroidered gold gown, her eyes scanning him with the critical precision of a sculptor assessing her finest work. Camila, his sister, fidgeted beside her, trying and failing to keep still. She likely had something else to do, but was dragged here by their parents.

"You'll do well to remember your place, Felix," The queen said, her tone devoid of warmth. "This is not merely a union; it is a step toward uniting our kingdoms. Do not fail us again."

"Yes, Mother," Felix replied, bowing his head.

Camila scoffed, crossing her arms. "And here I thought I might at least get to say goodbye without hearing another lecture." She turned to Felix, her expression softening despite her sharp words. "Try not to fail this time, brother. Though, given your track record..."

Felix managed a small smile, stepping forward to embrace her. Camila stiffened, unused to such gestures, but relented, patting his back awkwardly. "Be careful," She whispered, her tone more serious than before. "I hope I don't see you back here again,"

"As do I," Felix murmured, stepping back. As much as they didn't speak to each other much, or had a close relationship—she was the only one who was normal toward him.

The queen's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she leaned down, placing a cold kiss on his forehead. "Do what is expected of you. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Yes, Mother," Felix repeated, his words automatic.

As he turned to leave, Camila called out after him, her voice almost teasing but tinged with something close to concern. "Don't forget to write. Not that you ever do much!"

Felix nodded over his shoulder, his lips curling into a faint, hollow smile. As he walked outside toward the castle gates, his eyes flicked toward the guards waiting by the royal carriage. They were northerners, their pale complexions standing out against the heavy black coats they wore to fend off the chill that occasionally dominated the area of the Artevmia kingdom. One of them glared at him, their eyes cold and unforgiving. Felix quickly looked away, heat rising to his face.

He didn't need to guess why; squashed rumors always float to the surface between kingdoms when there's an event—Whispers of him and Jiho had long since spread through the court, and now even the guards must think of him as tainted—"soiled blood," they would call it. Jiho's twisted obsession was no secret, and now Felix bore the weight of that shame, unable to untangle himself from the narrative others wrote for him. Taking a deep breath, Felix straightened his shoulders.

The sunlight, warm and golden, kissed his face, though it did little to ease the tension coiled in his chest. A servant opened the door to the carriage once he approached closer, and steeling himself, he ducked inside, the door shutting firmly behind him. As much as he told himself he was happy to leave, the weight in his chest was heavier this time. He had done this before—three times now. Three failed engagements, three departures filled with promises of a better future that never came. Each time, he thought he might finally find something resembling freedom, but gilded chains have always pulled him back. It didn't matter how far he traveled or how many engagements he endured. In the end, he would always be the Kingdom's puppet.

Chapter Text

"Jin, can we speak for a moment?"

Hyun-Jin cracked one eye open, the brightness of the setting sun filtering through the snow-draped branches above him making him squint. He was sprawled lazily against a tree, arms crossed, his hair falling messily over his face.

"Not right now, Han" He muttered, his tone flat, dismissive.

The said man standing over him—An omega with dark blue hair and squirrel-like cheeks, round eyes, and a patience that was quickly wearing thin—felt his eye twitch. "That's not the proper answer I need, Hyun-Jin."

Hyun-Jin didn't bother to reply, instead closing his eyes again, his head tipping back as though Ji-sung's presence wasn't worth his time.

Han sighed deeply, the sound carrying both irritation and resignation. "Your omega has arrived at the castle," He said pointedly, his voice cutting through the quiet of the forest clearing. That made Hyun-Jin's eyes snap open. His brown irises glinted in the sunlight as he turned his head slowly toward Han. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, his lips parting slightly as though to speak, but no words came. "...He's waiting," Han continued, watching Hyun-Jin carefully. "The prince. Your future mate."

Hyun-Jin stared at him for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he pushed himself up from the ground, brushing the snow and dirt off his armor. "Did my sister put you up to this? To get me out of my work and drag me there?"

"She did," Han didn't deny it. "But that doesn't matter. It's—"

"Wonderful, yeah?" He drawled, his tone filled with sarcasm.

Han raised a brow. "You could at least pretend to be interested. This is your marriage we're talking about."

"Arranged marriage." Hyun-Jin clarified. He had no say, nor much of a warning. "But I'm very interested. Especially in how long it'll take for him to run back to his kingdom crying about how I'm not as perfect as others think I am."

Han sighed again, this time in genuine frustration. "Hyun-Jin, not every bride you've gotten will be the same. This one could be different—he's a male omega. So you're not in a position to—"

"I know, I know." Hyun-Jin cut him off with a lazy wave of his hand. "You don't have to lecture me, Han. I won't treat him poorly, just like I haven't the others, you know that."

"Then why are you delaying your meeting? It's proper courtesy to great your partner the moment they arrive,"

Hyun-Jin narrowed his eyes. "It seems to me you're more eager to meet him than I am. Did you already greet him—or has he been welcomed by everyone but me already?"

"Is it wrong to be curious?" Han shot back. "And no, I didn't meet him directly. I only saw him talking to Chang-bin briefly when I came to see you. Are you not the least bit interested in how the Sunshine Kingdom's prince looks in person? What his personality is like?"

"Is that all?" Hyun-Jin tilted his head.

Han frowned. "Look, I understand things have been stressful for you lately managing the territories taken over, but that doesn't mean you can brush it off until later. Not too many of the population are happy about this arrangement with our opposition kingdom, so you need to fulfill your duty in changing their feelings. I need you to give him that assurance and help him around, as he's in a different homeland. He may feel scared and lonely. The castle assistants will need to adjust to him, too, especially, but some may refuse regardless of orders. We—"

"Okay,"

Han paused. "Okay? You're actually listening to me?"

"Have I not been this whole time?"

"So you're agreeing with me?"

"Yes? Why wouldn't I...?"

"Well, you normally—"

"Hyun-Jin!"

A loud voice interrupted them. Both Hyun-Jin and Han turned to see another figure stomping toward them—Jeong-in—a younger alpha with sharp features and high cheekbones. His expression was a storm of irritation as he closed the distance, glaring directly at Hyun-Jin. "Why am I the only one who hasn't heard of the recent events?" He demanded, his tone accusatory, squaring his shoulders. "I've been left to deal with my sister's train of emotions—and she's not very happy about this." Hyun-Jin raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting Jeong-in continue. "She's been crying ever since the news broke," Jeong-in added, his tone stiff. "And unfortunately, I've had to hear a lot about how she wants you to end this new engagement. That's why I'm also asking you to consider her offer. She does have a good reason. She's obviously the better choice, Hyun-Jin, as she doesn't have those disgusting rumors floating around her as that Prince does—"

"I have rumors floating around me too, Innie," Hyun-Jin interjected, his eyes narrowing. "So why would I judge the prince based on that?" Jeong-in stiffened at the retort, but Hyun-Jin didn't give him time to argue. "And this isn't my first engagement, is it?" Hyun-Jin continued, his voice calm but cutting. "I'm sure Irene will overcome it again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other business to handle. You'll understand when you're older,"

Jeong-in pressed his lips together, watching Hyun-jin walk away. "Are you telling me you bear no feelings—"

"Enough," Han interjected, stepping forward and placing a hand on his arm. His tone was weary as he glanced at Hyun-Jin's retreating. "Just leave him be for today. He's...tired. I know you care deeply for Irene, but this isn't the time to bring her up when there are more important things to be done."

-.-

The moment Felix arrived, the bitter cold bit into his skin, even through the layers of clothing he made sure to change into on the trip here. Snow swirled around them in chaotic flurries, carried by the unrelenting winds that defined the northern lands. Artevmia, a kingdom carved from ice and stone, loomed before him, its sheer grandeur both breathtaking and intimidating. The towering, snow-capped mountains encircling the kingdom created a natural fortress. Rivers of ice-blue water wound their way through the valleys, their surfaces frozen solid and hard.

The kingdom itself was built into the side of a massive mountain, its stone walls glistening with frost and enchanted runes that shimmered faintly in the dim northern light. Felix's breath misted in the air as he opened the window and took in the sprawling city below the castle. Artevmia was alive with activity, despite the harsh conditions. The streets were lined with homes built from dark stone and fortified with magic to withstand the elements. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the faint glow of lanterns spilled onto the cobblestone roads. Vendors stood in the marketplaces, their stalls protected by magical spells that shielded them from the snow, kept the paths clear, and heated their homes.

Above it all, the castle of Artevmia stood like a crown, its spires piercing the heavens. It was an imposing structure of black stone and ice, adorned with banners depicting the kingdom's sigil—a dragon against a backdrop of midnight blue. The castle seemed almost alive, its magic palpable in the air. Felix could see faint pulses of light traveling through the intricate web of runes etched into its walls, a constant reminder of the power sustaining the kingdom. Beyond its borders lay untamed wilderness teeming with monsters, their howls often carried on the wind. The people of the kingdom were hardened by their environment, their lives buried in magic.

Felix shivered a tad as he stepped out of the carriage. The entrance of the castle was guarded by knights in thick, fur-lined armor, with their hands resting on the hilts of enchanted swords. Their pale faces, chiseled from years of enduring the cold, were unreadable as they watched him. It all reminded him that was not the warmth and "false" golden glow of the Sunshine Kingdom. Artevmia was cold, unyielding, and fiercely alive—just the opposite—and that contrast sent a feeling of excitement over him. Maybe it was the thought of the newfound freedom he might experience, even if it was fleeting. Or maybe it was the rawness of this place, unpolished and real, that sparked something within him.

"Prince Felix," A gentle voice interrupted his thoughts.

Felix sniffled, blinking through the snowflakes that clung to his eyelashes. He looked down from the darkening sky to find a muscular beta standing before him. The man was a knight, clad in thick furs and silver armor that glimmered faintly with runic enchantments. His short black hair was damp from the snow, and his small, full lips were set in a small smile. In his hands, he held a larger, thicker fur cloak, and with a quiet apology, he stepped closer to drape it over his shoulders. The sudden warmth of the fur was almost overwhelming after the chill of the northern winds, far warmer than anything he had on. "Thank you," He said, his voice soft, his gaze flickering up to meet the knight again. "...?"

The knight bowed his head slightly, his expression calm but respectful. "Seo Chang-bin, your highness, but you can call me whatever you like. I'll be escorting you the rest of the way to the castle."

Felix nodded faintly, his fingers curling into the fur cloak as he adjusted it around himself. The weight of it felt grounding, a small comfort against the unfamiliarity of everything else. "It's...a pleasure to meet you, Chang-bin."

Chang-bin straightened, his posture precise and disciplined. "The honor is really mine, Prince Felix. If you're ready, we should make our way inside. The snowstorm will worsen soon, and I can't have you getting sick. A hot dinner will be waiting inside, and after you may rest."

Dinner? Oh, it was nighttime here, Felix realized, even though it was still light out. The trip must've taken longer than he guessed, and the sun seemed to set quickly. Felix glanced back toward the carriage, then up at the imposing castle that loomed in the distance. "Okay, please lead the way."

Chang-bin began guiding him toward the castle, their steps crunching against the snow-covered ground. Felix hesitated for a moment before asking, "If it's okay that I ask...where is the Prince of this kingdom? I figured it polite to greet him as soon as I arrived."

Chang-bin faltered in his step, his gaze briefly shifting to the castle. "He's..." He started, his voice hesitant. "He's a bit busy today, unfortunately. But there's a high chance you'll see him later."

"I see," Felix murmured, his tone polite but tinged with curiosity.

Chang-bin glanced over at him and offered a reassuring smile. "Do not worry. Jin—the prince, I mean, may be a busy person, but he wouldn't be shameless enough to miss greeting you. Even at the latest hour of the day."

Felix nodded, clutching the fur cloak tighter around himself. As they approached the grand stone staircase leading up to the castle's entrance, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of man this Prince Hyun-Jin truly was—and why his absence felt oddly significant.

Once they got inside, the warmth of the castle's interior was an immediate relief from the bitter cold, Felix's boots echoing against the polished marble floors. The grand hall was illuminated by sconces and chandeliers, and Felix's eyes roamed over the tapestries hanging along the walls, depicting ancient battles and legends of Artevmia. The decor was elegant but understated, completely different from the overly extravagant style of the Sunshine Kingdom.

"Prince Felix," Chang-bin said, halting in front of a large set of oak doors. "Princess Yeji will be inside. I hope you take a liking to her." He pushed the doors open, revealing what appeared to be an elegant dining hall. The room was modestly lit, its grand chandeliers casting a warm glow over a long wooden table laden with an impressive array of dishes. Steaming soups, perfectly seared meats, vibrant chocolate-dipped fruits, and a variety of cakes decorated the table, their aromas mingling in the air. Felix's stomach churned at the sight, and he fought back the urge to grimace.

As Felix stepped further into the room, his gaze landed on an omega seated gracefully at the head of the table. She rose smoothly at their entrance, each movement deliberate and poised. Her catlike eyes assessed Felix with a polite yet reserved expression, and her slender frame was draped in a simple but regal gown of deep blue velvet. "Prince Felix," She greeted, her voice soft and composed, though it carried a subtle air of authority. "Welcome to Artevmia. I trust the journey was not too arduous?"

Felix bowed lightly, his manners as polished as ever. "The journey was long but manageable. Thank you for asking."

"Good," She replied, her lips curving into a bright smile. "I hope you'll find your stay here to be a pleasant one. My brother...tends to make an impression, so I apologize in advance for his brashness, should you encounter it. Please do not worry about the rumors...circulating about him."

Felix blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the subtle humor in her tone. "Oh, I don't care for them, especially when he's not the only one being gossiped about. I look forward to meeting him,"

Yeji's gaze lingered on him, studying his face as if searching for something to show he was lying, or not being sincere. After a pause, she gestured toward a servant waiting by the door. "You must be starving after your travels. Dinner will be served now, but if you'd prefer to rest first, Chang-bin can guide you to your chambers, and we can dine together later."

Felix hesitated, his gaze flickering to the table. The sight of the food made his throat tighten, but he forced a smile. "No, it's..." He faltered for a moment, glancing at her unreadable expression. "It's fine. I can eat now, and never should you need to wait for me."

Yeji inclined her head, her movements graceful. "Very well, then. Please, have a seat. I've been waiting to speak with you—you are my brother's first male omega, after all. So I'm sure some things will be different."

Felix hesitated before pulling out a chair, settling onto the cushioned seat. "Thank you, Princess Yeji," He said softly, folding his hands in his lap.

"Yeji is fine," She corrected gently. "We're soon to be family now, after all."

Felix nodded, though the word "family" struck a bitter chord in him. That was only if he survived this little trial faze, and nothing went wrong like it always does. He kept his expression neutral, his gaze briefly darting to the food spread before him.

"You're even more beautiful than I imagined," Yeji said suddenly.

Felix was startled by the compliment. His instinct was to deflect, but the sincerity in her tone caught him off guard. "That's...very kind of you to say," He murmured, glancing down. "But I don't see how you can say that when you're..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "You're far more ethereal. Like something out of a painting."

Yeji laughed lightly, a sound as gentle as falling snow. "How charming of you, Prince Felix. You certainly know how to flatter." She paused, her smile lingering. "Though...I imagine Hyun-Jin will find you far more captivating."

Felix smiled slightly at the mention of that, though he doubted it. "I've never seen his portrait," He admitted after a moment. "But if he's your brother, I can't imagine him being anything less than..." He hesitated.

"Intimidating?" Yeji supplied, arching a delicate brow.

Felix offered a faint smile. "I was going to say striking."

Yeji's gaze softened, and she leaned forward slightly. "Hyun-Jin is many things, but you'll find your own way of understanding him."

Their conversation shifted, light and cordial, as Yeji asked about his journey and his impressions of Artevmia. Felix answered politely, though he carefully avoided giving too much away. As the minutes stretched on, he began to notice her gaze flicker toward his untouched plate. "Prince Felix," She said after a moment, her tone curious. "I couldn't help but notice you haven't taken a bite of your food yet. I prepared a variety of dishes tonight to figure out your favorites. Surely something appeals to you?"

Felix froze, his mind racing for an excuse. His eyes fell to the table, the scents of the rich food suddenly...overwhelming. "I apologize," he said quickly. "The journey over the mountains was...long. I think I may have gotten a little sick from the ride."

Behind him, one of the assistants standing against the wall let out an audible scoff. The sound traveled through the air, rude and dismissive. Yeji's head snapped toward the source of the noise, her calm demeanor shifting to something colder. "I don't recall asking for your opinion," She said coolly, her words cutting through the room like ice. The assistant stiffened, lowering their head in a hasty bow. "My apologies, Princess."

Felix's shoulders tensed, but he forced a small, apologetic smile. It seems like there really are some people who don't like him here. "I'm truly sorry, Yeji. I didn't mean to waste your efforts, or the chefs who prepared all of this."

Yeji frowned as she looked back at him. Felix could feel her eyes sweeping over how skinny he already was, and he hid more in himself. Noticing that quickly, she picked her gaze back up. "Nonsense, Prince Felix. If you're unwell, then getting better should be your priority. You need not force yourself to eat. Whatever is left here will be distributed to those in need in the outskirt villages. I'll make sure that a light broth is sent to your chambers later in the night."

Felix murmured his thanks, feeling a heat of shame creep up his neck as he avoided her gaze. Light or heavy food—he wouldn't be able to keep it down regardless. He knew this wouldn't be the last time his eating habits drew attention, but he silently vowed to tread more carefully in the future. Every gesture, every glance, would be scrutinized in this unfamiliar land, and he couldn't afford to show any weakness.

"My brother asked me to tell you he apologizes for his late arrival—whenever he does show and come by your room. We currently have a monster problem growing higher up south and he's been preoccupied with helping the forts there manage it. Our parents too, will be late. They've been vacationing at Ravena since last month, and early tomorrow they will return. I'm truly sorry for the lack of welcoming."

Felix shook his head. "No, it's really okay. I don't mind. I know I arrived late and all, and not everyone has to work on my timing. I don't... control anything. I'm satisfied enough with your greeting alone. You've been very kind," He said earnestly.

Yeji's lips quirked up in a grin. "You will soon enough control something, no? Your coming here isn't meant to be restricted. You should have just as much influence as me here, and I'll see to that as soon as I can." Her tone softened, her gaze briefly distant. "After...our younger sister Leah passed, I've been left with her job of managing most of the internal affairs of this kingdom. So, I permit you to do anything your heart wishes, without the worry of others' opinions. If you're unsatisfied with anything, you may inform the head butler who'll soon be assigned to you—or even me."

Felix hesitated, glancing down at his hands. "Thank you, again. But...I would like things to remain how they were before I came. I feel I'd just be a burden if I tried to change anything. I don't need anything."

"...Is that so?" Yeji tilted her head slightly.

"I mean—" Felix stammered, trying to explain himself. "It will be a rare thing for me to do so, and when I do—I won't ask for much. Not that I completely have everything to satisfy myself now—"

Yeji broke out into another soft, melodic laugh that caught Felix off guard. "Of course, I wasn't assuming that, don't fret. Even if you feel like you have nothing you need now, I'm certain that, in the future, there will be something. And when there is, don't hesitate to ask."

Her laughter melted some of the tension in Felix's chest. "Thank you, Yeji. I'll keep that in mind. In that case...would you mind calling me by my name as well?"

"Of course. If we are to get closer to each other that would be best. In return, though, I also ask you to be completely honest with us, and act as you would like this is your home in the Sunshine Kingdom."

Felix froze briefly at her words, his breath hitching. Act as you would if this were your home in the Sunshine Kingdom? He knew she was saying to act himself around them so he could be more comfortable, but the other implication of that sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. His nails curled into his wrists beneath the table as he processed her statement. She couldn't possibly know what life was like for him there—the rigid expectations, the lack of agency, the constant fight for even the smallest scrap of freedom.

This wasn't about making himself feel at home; it was about conforming. He wasn't necessarily here to gain anyone's favor, not even hers. He was here to keep his place, to endure this life he's starting here as long as possible without causing trouble. He didn't even care if the prince would love him back or even like him in the future. All he needed was to stay out of trouble and maintain the image he always had—obedient, composed, and unproblematic.

"Right," Felix said finally, his voice steady, betraying none of his inner turmoil. "I'll do my best to meet your expectations."

Yeji faltered slightly at that, her eyes widening a fraction as though she caught something off in his usually bright tone, but chose not to press further. “Thank you…Felix. That’s all we ask. Now—I won’t keep you any longer. You're sick, and I believe you should rest. In the morning we’ll discuss everything further with my family completely in attendance.” She stood gracefully and added, “I have assigned a private room for you—as I assume you’d want to get to know my brother longer before you share a bed. I will introduce you to the butler waiting outside to show you there. He will tell you about the rules at night here—not a curfew, per se, but precautions for your safety, given that we live in a region with monsters.”

“I understand, thank you for everything so far,” Felix said, rising from his seat. As they exited the dining hall together to part ways, Felix saw the mentioned butler waiting outside. He was a tall, gaunt man, his frame almost skeletal. His sunken cheekbones gave his face an austere quality, and his piercing eyes seemed to scrutinize Felix with an unnerving intensity.

“This is Calcifer, by the way. Calcifer Grimm.” Yeji introduced him. “He has been the castle’s head butler since I was young. He’s quite capable and will ensure you are well-acquainted with everything you need to know during your stay.”

Felix bowed politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Grimm.”

Calcifer’s gaze lingered on Felix a moment too long, his expression unreadable but faintly disapproving. His thin lips barely moved as he said, “The honor is mine, Your Highness.”

Felix felt a chill unrelated to the weather as Calcifer’s sharp eyes seemed to peel back layers of him. Did he already do something wrong? Felix wondered, but he held his composure, keeping his face calm and polite. Yeji seemed to not notice, smiling kindly as she always did before retreating with a nod. 

Calcifer gestured for him to follow him. “This way, Prince Felix,” He said, void of any emotion in his voice, turning toward the hallway leading to his quarters. Along the way, Felix noticed the walls lined with intricate carvings and illuminated by a multitude of fireplaces built directly into them. Each hearth crackled with a sparkling blue flame, casting an ethereal glow that made the shadows dance against the walls. When they arrived at the door that led to his quarters, Felix hesitated, glancing at the butler.

“Something the matter, Your Highness?” Calcifer asked, raising his eyebrow. Felix glanced at the butler, and then at the dimly lit hallway around them. “Not exactly. I just…wanted to ask something before I head inside, if that’s alright. Yeji mentioned there were some rules I’m to be informed about, regarding the monster activity at night?”

“Ah,” Calcifer responded, glancing at the door to Felix’s room before shifting his sharp gaze back to him. He paused, narrowing his eyes in thought. “It’s nothing serious. Just stay inside and you’ll be safe.”

“…That’s it?” Felix asked, tilting his head in slight confusion.

“If I recall.” Calcifer shrugged nonchalantly. “My memory…has been a bit jumbled lately due to the sudden preparations of your arrival. I apologize, but I don’t think there’s anything more I remember to tell you other than that.”

“Then, what about all the fires I’m seeing lit? Do they serve a special purpose, or are they just to keep the castle warm—“

“They’re for heating, yes, but also decoration. Beautiful, aren’t they? You should have one in your room as well.”

Felix frowned slightly at the vague answer but chose not to push further. “Alright…thank you for letting me know,” He said politely, though unease lingered in his mind. Yeji said there was no curfew, so why wouldn’t he be able to leave his room? And if the fires were truly just for warmth, there wouldn’t need to be so many as magic-lit fires can warm whole buildings with just one—or at least, in his kingdom they can.

Calcifer inclined his head, his thin lips curling into something that might’ve been a smile—or a warning. “Goodnight then, Your Highness. Rest well.”

The butler’s footsteps echoed down the hallway as he departed, leaving Felix standing alone in front of the ornate door. For a moment, he simply stared at it. Something about Calcifer’s character picked at him, but he pushed the feeling aside. He pulled open the door to his room and stepped inside, and immediately he was met with luxury. The room was far more spacious than Felix had expected, its high vaulted ceilings lined with thick wooden beams. Grey and navy tapestries adorned the stone walls, and a large window, draped with thick velvet curtains, overlooked the snowy expanse of the northern landscape, though the glass was frosted over outside, obscuring much of the view.

The centerpiece of the room was a grand canopy bed, its posts carved into twisting designs resembling tree branches. The bedding was luxurious, layered with thick fur blankets in shades of cream and gray. Across from the bed was a polished desk and a comfortable chair, accompanied by shelves stocked with books. A wardrobe, similarly decorated, stood to the side, its silver handles gleaming in the firelight. As Calcifer had said, a fire was lit inside the room as well, crackling softly in the hearth. So he didn’t lie about that, Felix thought, but something still felt off, and he couldn’t grasp why.

Crossing the room, Felix found a door that led to a small adjoining bathroom. The tub was already filled with steaming water, likely prepared in anticipation of his arrival. Steam curled through the air, carrying a faint hint of lavender that soothed his nerves. Felix undressed slowly, stepping into the warm water with a small sigh of relief as it enveloped him.

The heat chased away the lingering cold from his journey, and he allowed himself a moment to sink lower, the water lapping at his shoulders. He washed carefully, running his hands over his skin and scrubbing away the grime of travel. When he finished, Felix stepped out and reached for the soft towel hanging nearby. He dried himself and his hair quickly, slipping into the silk pajamas that had been set out for him.

When Felix returned, however, he paused mid-step. The fire in the hearth was no longer the familiar, blue he had left. Instead, it burned a smaller, vivid purple, its flickering flames casting eerie shadows across the walls. His brows knitted together. He hadn’t heard anyone enter the room, and the thought that the fire could change on its own made his skin tingle with uncertainty. He stepped closer, the purple light bathing his face as he kneeled down for a closer look at the flames, trying to understand what had caused the shift. It seemed like it was dimming every passing second, like a timer counting down until ringing, and Felix found himself staring at it, wondering why things were different.

But, suddenly, it went out completely, leaving the room in utter darkness. The silence following was deafening, the warmth of the fire replaced by a cold gloom that seemed to press down on him. Felix’s first instinct was to take a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. This wasn’t the first time he’d been left in the dark—there have been worse…times. So, panicking would solve nothing, and if there was one thing his upbringing had taught him, it was how to maintain composure under pressure. Slowly, he reached out in the dark, his hands brushing against the desk to orient himself.

Step by careful step, Felix began feeling his way toward the door. His fingers grazed the wall as he navigated the unfamiliar room, his bare feet brushing against the plush rug beneath him. When he finally reached the door, his hand found the cold metal of the handle. He tried to turn it, expecting to step into the hallway to grab a servant or guard to relight the fire—But the handle didn’t budge.

Felix frowned and tried again, jiggling the handle harder this time. It still wouldn’t turn. He pushed against the door, but it didn’t give. Locked.

Felix exhaled slowly, steadying himself. That’s okay, he said to himself. It could just be jammed, or his room is meant to lock after a certain time—there has to be a reason. A reason…his thoughts flashed to the interaction he had with Calcifer not to long ago, and the peculiar purple fire. But before he could process it further, the sound of a ferocious roar made him freeze. It tore through the quiet like a raging storm, deep, and guttural, and echoing off the walls of his room. Felix’s heart raced as his hand instinctively gripped the handle tighter for grounding. He wondered if he had imagined it—that his ear and mind was playing awfully real tricks on him. But the distant sound of heavy, scraping claws against glass reached his ears, growing louder and closer with every second—told him otherwise.

Whatever was out there, it wasn’t the wind.

And when he squinted toward the window—the only other light source—he saw a dragon's eye. It glowed with an eerie white light that feigned moonlight, its dark pupil narrowing to a slit as it focused on him. Felix couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, as the sheer magnitude of what he was looking at settled in. The glass rattled under the beast’s breath as it sighed, the fogging and clearing of its surface the only sign its movement.

There and then, a realization hit Felix like a physical blow. The fires in the hallways, their sparkling blue glow, weren’t just for ambiance or decor like the butler had mentioned—they served as shields, barriers designed to repel the monsters that prowled the cold, merciless land of Artevmia. But his room…His room’s fire had been tampered with—sabotaged the moment he walked away, and it extinguished. 

Someone had planned this. 

And he only had a second to react before the dragon came bursting through the stone walls, shattering the window with it. 

Chapter Text

A deafening boom shook the castle as a burst of stone and wind exploded into the room, sending shards of glass and debris flying in every direction. Felix barely had time to register what was happening before he dropped to the ground instinctively, his arms shielding his head as terror gripped him. The roar subsided into a deep, rumbling growl, and against every ounce of his survival instincts, Felix lifted his head. His breath hitched as his gaze locked onto the massive form towering above him. The dragon was truly enormous, its scales gleaming like liquid silver under the faint moonlight that spilled through the shattered window. Its glowing white eyes pierced through the darkness, pinning him in place with a stare that felt almost sentient.

Felix’s arms trembled as he scrambled backward, pressing himself against the nearest wall. The dragon took another step forward, and Felix held his hands out in surrender. “S-Stay back!” He stammered, his voice barely audible over the beast’s heavy breaths. He knew talking to it wouldn’t work—it was a monster, after all. But what else could he do? His mind raced for an escape, but no options presented themselves. All he could do was try to prolong his life, seconds stretching into eternity as he braced for the inevitable.

But…nothing came.

Unexpectedly, the dragon halted, its glowing white eyes narrowing as it tilted its enormous head slightly. For a moment, it almost seemed curious, studying him like a predator deciding how to approach its prey. Its icy breath filled the air, curling in ghostly wisps that sent a bone-deep chill through Felix. He didn’t understand why, but it almost seemed like it had listened to him. But that couldn’t be right. It’s a monster, incapable of human speech, and—

Bang!

The sudden sound of pounding against his door made Felix flinch. “Prince Felix!” Came a voice - Chang-bin’s, muffled but urgent. “What’s going on? Why is the door locked? We are alerted of an explosion. Are you alright?”

The noise seemed to agitate the dragon. Its glowing eyes snapped toward the source of the sound, and it let out another thunderous roar. Felix clamped his hands over his ears, his breath hitching as the beast reared back, its long claws digging into the stone floor. The banging at the door grew more frantic, each slam against the wood seeking to bother it more. The dragon lowered itself, muscles coiling as it prepared to lunge.

Felix felt his life flash before his eyes as he squeezed them shut, bracing for the inevitable pain of claws tearing through him. He thought of the Sunshine Kingdom, his family, and the endless days of suffocating control he had barely escaped—Only to meet his end here, another “form” of freedom. But instead of the sharp agony he expected, the claws that should’ve pierced through his torso—something warm and wet had splattered across his cheeks.

His eyes flew open, and he was met with the sight of the dragon’s massive frame swaying before him. Its body slumped forward heavily, but its head—its grotesquely severed head—had fallen to the floor mere feet away from him. Blood bubbled and poured from the fresh, jagged cut at its neck, pooling around the corpse in thick, steaming rivulets. The dragon’s lifeless eyes, once glowing with a piercing white light, were now dull yet disturbingly fixed on Felix. The head’s massive jaw hung slightly open, revealing jagged teeth that could have easily torn through him just moments ago.

Felix’s breath came in short, shallow gasps as his mind struggled to comprehend what had just happened. The rancid, metallic smell of the creature’s blood filled the air, making his stomach churn. Before he could process anything further, strong arms hooked under his armpits, hauling him to his feet with surprising ease. Felix gasped, his head whipping back instinctively.

“Felix!” It was Chang-bin, his face tight with concern as he steadied Felix on trembling legs. “Are you okay? Can you stand?”

Felix couldn’t speak; his eyes darted between the lifeless dragon and Chang-bin, the reality of his near-death crashing over him in waves—how did the door get unlocked? What happened to the dragon? And then—

Who was that?

Standing beside the dragon’s fallen body was a tall alpha, his blade gleaming with evidence that he was the killer. Moonlight caught on his black shoulder-length hair, and his piercing gaze locked onto Felix, sending a chill down his spine. His features were sharp, regal, and strikingly beautiful—almost otherworldly, just like Yeji.

The stranger moved with calm precision, throwing his blood-soaked sword to the side with a clatter. Without hesitation, he stepped toward Felix and reached out, his warm hands brushing against Felix’s freckled cheek to wipe away the warm, sticky blood splattered there. “He’s in shock,” The man said, his voice low, almost soothing in its quiet authority. The words were meant for Chang-bin, and Felix didn’t register them. His mind had already disconnected, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the moment.

The touch—the gentleness of it—shattered whatever thin thread was holding him together. And just as Yeji burst in worriedly to join them all—With a strangled gasp, he wrenched himself free from Chang-bin’s hold, stumbling backward in a blind panic. His legs carried him to the adjoining - somehow undestroyed - restroom without thought, and he doubled over the basin, his trembling hands gripping its edges as he retched. The sound of his ragged breathing and the rush of bile into the sink filled the space, but Felix barely noticed. His body shook uncontrollably as adrenaline coursed through him, his mind replaying the scene over and over—the dragon’s roar, its glowing eyes, the disgustingly vile smell of blood.

–

A half-hour later, Felix - somewhat calmer - was seated on a plush couch in a grand foyer. The room was heavy with an unspoken tension, the aftermath of the night’s chaos hanging in the air like a suffocating shroud. No one dared speak to him at first, leaving Felix to sit in silence, picking at his nails in a futile attempt to calm his tremoring hands. Still, he could feel their eyes on him, a silent jury casting judgment. Yeji sat across from him, her expression calm but her gaze penetrating. Chang-bin stood nearby, arms crossed, his brows furrowed in a mixture of concern and agitation. The alpha who had saved him—now clearly identifiable as the prince due to Chang-bin’s mention of his name—leaned casually against the wall, though his eyes remained fixed on Felix, unreadable. Then there was Calcifer, standing off to the side like a shadow, his sunken features betraying no emotion.

That bastard.

Felix’s jaw clenched as he glanced at Calcifer, the only person he could pin this nightmare on. The butler had never fully explained the fire’s ultimate purpose, never told him what would happen if it went out. Worse, Calcifer was the only one who would’ve had the key to lock Felix inside his room. He must’ve planned it all—the extinguished fire, the locked door, the near-death encounter. And yet, it was Yeji who broke the silence - not him to apologize - with her usually calm voice. “Did you…extinguish the fire, Felix?”

His head jolted up, wide eyes meeting hers. “…What?”

“It was just a question,” Yeji repeated, though there was an unmistakable edge in her tone. “Because…we do need to know. Calcifer told me he informed you of its purpose and why it’s important to leave it alone. If it goes out, the monsters are able to break into the zone. And if you had—of course—you wouldn’t be in trouble for it. Mistakes can happen, and it’s still only your first night here.”

Felix’s heart sank as the implication set in. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat. The accusation—it was Calcifer’s word against his. Whatever he said would likely fall on deaf ears—they had no reason to believe him. He was, after all, a prince of an opposing kingdom, one burdened by rumors of an inappropriate relationship with his cousin. His reputation, tenuous at best, was his biggest liability.

“…I didn’t put it out,” Felix said finally, his voice steady but soft, “I don’t even know how I could do that if it contains magic. Calcifer—”

“You’re telling us you didn’t extinguish it with water? The most basic way?” Calcifer interrupted sharply, his piercing gaze boring into Felix.

Felix shook his head vehemently. “Water? No, I never would’ve thought it would be that easy to. Furthermore—why would I when I need heating in the room? After I got refreshed, I came back to my room, and the color had changed.”

“What nonsense are you spouting? The color changed? To what?” Calcifer asked, his tone dripping with mock curiosity.

“Purple,” Felix replied, trying to keep his voice calm, though frustration bubbled beneath the surface. “It was blue when I left, but when I came back—”

“So, you noticed the change,” Calcifer cut him off, raising an eyebrow, “And still didn’t think to call someone to investigate? Or leave the room entirely before the monster could pinpoint where to strike?”

“I…” Felix tried, but his words were drowned by Calcifer’s voice. “It happened so quickly—“

“It seems like a very convenient excuse to me,” Calcifer continued. “You’re new here, after all. A simple mistake, perhaps? One that almost cost us dearly?”

Felix’s hands clenched into fists. “It wasn’t a mistake. The fire was tampered with—”

“Tampered?” Calcifer sneered, his voice rising. “And who, pray tell, would tamper with it? You're an esteemed figure in our kingdom now, treated with respect, yet you’re accusing others now, is that it? You’re practically saying I didn’t inform you well enough of the purpose of our fires.”

Because you didn’t. I had to figure it out himself, Felix thought.

“Regardless, we know it was an accident—an honest mistake. I don’t believe it was Felix’s fault nor attention. So we’ll excuse it—“ Yeji spoke, but Calcifer was quicker. He turned to Yeji, his expression cold. “This isn’t something we can easily excuse, princess. The fires are most important to our kingdom, and by just one going out, we could’ve endangered the villages below. The room got destroyed. What if the dragon had attacked them?”

Felix opened his mouth to argue, to plead his case, but the words caught in his throat. Calcifer wouldn’t listen—he’d already made up his mind and was intent on pinning the blame on him. As the exchange unfolded, The Prince remained silent, his eyes fixed on Felix with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. He leaned back slightly, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Felix felt the weight of his gaze, but it offered neither comfort nor condemnation. It was as though Hyun-jin was content to observe, to watch the drama unfold without interference—but also to study his appearance, clear by the way his eyes swept over him.

Felix’s heart pounded in his chest. He was outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and painfully aware of it. All he could do was hold his ground and hope—hope that someone, anyone, would give him a chance to explain. But with Calcifer’s relentless accusations and the Artevmia Prince’s unnerving silence, that hope was quickly slipping away.

“He’s already attracted much attention just from his arrival without the need to pull off a dangerous stunt like this—is that not enough?” Calcifer continued. “If we were to—“

“Are you going to use this as an excuse to end our marriage?”

Everyone’s eyes snapped to the prince.

“My Prince,” Calcifer started, faltering for the first time. “I don’t think that should even be a—“

“Silence,”

Calcifer’s mouth snapped shut, though his clenched fists betrayed his frustration. Hyun-jin stepped forward deliberately, his gaze never leaving Felix. Then, without warning, he lowered himself onto the couch next to him. Blood still stained his royal garments, splatters of crimson standing out against the luxurious fabric that made Felix wince. “Well, are you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. There was no malice in his tone—only curiosity.

Felix swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unsettling sight of the blood and the overwhelming presence of the prince so close to him. He forced himself to meet Hyunjin’s gaze. For a fleeting moment, his attention was drawn to a faint mole beneath one of Hyun-jin’s eyes, a subtle mark that somehow added to the beauty of his features. It was oddly captivating, making the prince seem less like the stoic figure he was expected to be.

“I won’t,” Felix finally said, his voice quiet but resolute.

Hyun-jin tilted his head slightly, intrigue crossing his face. “Be clear then. You won’t what?”

Felix steadied his breath. “I won’t end our engagement. I plan to…stay,” He answered, his tone firming with each word. No matter what happens—whether he’s injured, outcast, or subjected to another ordeal beyond his control—he wouldn’t leave. He’d rather endure anything here than return to the Sunshine Kingdom. “An event like this won’t make me sever our engagement contract.”

“Alright,” Hyun-jin replied, then, without another word, he stood, his presence commanding the room. He adjusted the blood-stained sleeve of his royal attire as though it were a trivial inconvenience. “Prepare Prince Felix another bath,” He ordered, his voice calm but resolute. “And arrange for him to stay in my room tonight.”

A murmur of surprise rippled through the room. Yeji’s brows shot up in shock, while Calcifer looked as though he wanted to protest but wisely held his tongue. Changbin’s expression betrayed nothing, though his posture shifted slightly, as if bracing for an objection. Felix blinked, his mouth falling open. “Your…room?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. On the first day?

Hyun-Jin turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “It’s the safest place in the castle,” He said simply, as though it were the most logical conclusion. “And after today, I think it’s best I ensure no one destructs with your safety again for the rest of the night.”

“Destructs? My Prince, you can’t certainly believe his words—-“

“Calcifer, enough,” Yeji interrupted, her tone firm and cutting. She took a step forward, her gaze locking onto the taller with a warning glint. “This isn’t the time for accusations, and I believe you’ve overstepped today. I know you’re worried, but this isn’t the best time.”

Calcifer’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he said no more, clearly unwilling to push his luck further.

Hyun-jin’s attention flicked back to Felix. “Are you comfortable with that, Prince Felix?” He asked, his tone quieter now.

Felix hesitated before answering. Sharing a room with the Prince wasn't exactly what he had anticipated on his first night in Artevmia, especially when he had little plans to win his heart over—but after the dragon attack and the unsettling events that followed, it was hard to argue against the logic. He swallowed hard and nodded, his voice barely audible. “Yes, that’s…fine.”

Hyun-jin gave a curt nod and turned to Chang-bin. “Please talk to the maids and make the arrangements,”

—

As Felix made his way to the Prince’s chambers, he still couldn’t remove the weight of the day’s events that still hung heavy on his shoulders. It was nearing midnight. The bath had helped; the warmth of the water had soothed his trembling muscles and washed away the blood that had splattered onto him during the chaos. Yet, as he stood outside the prince’s door, freshly dressed in a clean tunic and trousers, the reality of sharing a room with Hyunjin settled in, knotting his stomach with a strange mix of nerves and apprehension.

Felix hesitated before pushing the door open, his movements careful as if he were intruding on something sacred. The room was dimly lit by a few candles, casting soft shadows across the spacious chamber. The faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, blending with the subtle smokiness of extinguished fire.

And then he saw him.

Hyun-Jin stood near a wardrobe, his back to the door, in the middle of changing his shirt. His hair fell over his shoulders as he shrugged the fabric off, revealing his broad, sculpted back. Felix froze in the doorway, his hand still on the knob, his breath caught in his throat. He didn’t know if he should make his presence known or wait. The prince moved with an unhurried grace, oblivious to Felix’s presence for a moment, as if he had all the time in the world.

The candlelight danced over Hyun-jin’s skin, illuminating faint scars that told stories Felix dared not ask about. His movements were methodical, almost indifferent, as he reached for a fresh shirt, slipping his arms through the sleeves. It wasn’t until Hyunjin turned slightly, catching sight of Felix in his peripheral vision, that he paused. “You’re here,”

Felix blinked, finally realizing how long he’d been standing there. He quickly stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry,” He mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he averted his gaze. “I didn’t mean to—intrude.”

The prince arched a brow, the faintest hint of amusement on his expression. “You didn’t.” He finished buttoning his shirt, smoothing the fabric before gesturing to the seating area near the fire. “You should sit. We have things to discuss.”

Felix nodded stiffly, shuffling toward the indicated spot—a couch similar to the one in the foyer. His head hung low as the prince walked over, his brain going through every possible question Hyun-Jin could ask him. He could want more info on the situation with the dragon and the fire; he could want to know why the door was locked; or he could—just possibly—mention how he threw up amidst it all. Whatever he wanted to say, Felix wasn’t sure he was ready for it.

Hyun-jin settled across from him, silent for a moment as if studying him. The tension in the room felt suffocating, and Felix braced himself for the barrage of questions he’d been dreading. But instead, Hyun-jin’s voice was calm, almost casual. “Are you feeling…alright now?”

Felix blinked, caught off guard. “I…I think so,”

“You think so? I didn’t think you would be with Calcifer bombarding you.”

Felix glanced up briefly, then quickly looked away again. “It’s just…a lot happened. I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, unsure how to articulate it. He didn’t know if the prince was on his side in this or not. Even if he did drag him away from the mess Calcifer dumped upon him, his intentions weren’t clear.

Hyun-jin nodded thoughtfully. “That’s understandable. Not many people have to face a dragon in their lifetime, much less on their first night here. But…You handled yourself well, considering the circumstances.”

Felix’s head shot up. “Handled myself well?” He echoed, incredulous. “I embarrassed myself in the middle of everything. I didn’t try to fight back. I froze—”

“And yet you’re still here,” Hyun-jin interrupted smoothly. “Alive.”

Felix stared at him, speechless. “Because you saved me,”

“Yes, luckily.” The prince’s gaze softened slightly, though Felix couldn’t tell why. “Either way—your response was normal. You’re new here, after all, and you have yet to learn everything about this kingdom.”

Felix didn’t know what to say to that, so he simply nodded, though doubt still lingered in his chest.

Hyun-jin shifted the conversation slightly. “What about before the dragon? Are you hurt anywhere? Did the glass or debris cut you? I saw that your room was…destroyed, unfortunately. But the magic repairs will take place immediately, and it will be fixed in no time.”

Felix shook his head quickly. “No, I’m fine. I think… I think the worst of it was just—well, everything else.” He winced at how stupid that sounded.

Hyun-jin didn’t seem to mind. “You should rest tonight, then. You’ve been through more than enough. I’m sure you’re tired from your travels, no?”

Felix blinked. “You’re not going to…ask me more details about what happened?”

“There will be time for that another day. All I can tell you is I’m sure you had no part in whatever happened. Right now, though, I’m more concerned about whether you’ll be able to sleep comfortably tonight.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m sure I’ll be…okay.”

“Good. Now, If anything else is bothering you, you can tell me,” He said, his tone gentler than before.

Uncertainty flickered within Felix. He was being too kind to the person who supposedly caused damage to their castle. “Why are you…?”

“Checking on you?” Hyun-Jin finished for him, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Because you’re in my care now. I have to make sure you're well.”

Felix didn’t know how to respond, so he settled for a quiet, “…Thank you.”

The prince didn’t press him further, simply nodding. “It’s not a problem. Get some rest now. Tomorrow will be easier. You may use my bed.”

“Your bed?” Felix’s lips fell open in surprise. “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly do that. It’s already enough that you’ve offered me your room. I can just sleep here on the couch. The fire will be warm enough for me, and I've slept in worse—“ Felix stopped himself, realizing what he was just about to leak.

Hyun-Jin’s brows lifted slightly at Felix’s words, though his expression remained composed. “Worse?” He echoed, his eyes settling on Felix like a hawk.

Felix’s heart stuttered. “I just mean—I’ve had other nights that weren’t exactly…comfortable, therefore–sleeping on the couch is my last issue.” He said hastily, inwardly cursing himself for the slip.

Hyun-Jin didn’t push, but the slight narrowing of his eyes suggested he’d filed the comment away for later. “Be that as it may, you’ll sleep in the bed tonight. The couch isn’t suitable for you—especially not after the day you’ve had.”

Felix opened his mouth to argue but stopped at the quiet finality in Hyun-Jin’s tone. The prince wasn’t offering a suggestion; he was giving an order. “…If you insist,” He said quietly, lowering his gaze to his hands.

“I do,” Hyun-Jin replied, standing. He began moving toward a closet on the far side of the room, pulling out a pillow and a thick blanket. “You’ll find fresh linens on the bed. If you need anything, I’ll be nearby in the connected study.”

Felix hesitated, watching him carefully. “You’re not staying here?”

Hyun-Jin paused, glancing back over his shoulder. “I assumed you’d be opposed to that based on your reaction earlier, and I don’t think it’s polite to sleep in the same bed together when we’ve yet got accustomed. I will be close enough, don’t worry. During the nights I’m always in my study as I have leftover work to complete. But as busy as I am, you may fetch me at any time if you need something. Now have a good night, Prince Felix. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Felix nodded mutely. Hyun-Jin wasn’t entirely wrong, but it was still odd to him that he wasn’t choosing to sleep at this time. It was late, and the prince had been busy before he even arrived. Meaning, he’s barely gotten any sleep, and if he does get some, it’ll be in an uncomfortable area.

Nonetheless, a few minutes later, he sat on the edge of Hyun-Jin’s bed, his fingers curling into the fabric of the blanket. He wanted to ask the Prince about the rumors, to gain some ground, some clarity. Like how Camila had mentioned he was “cursed,” his personality deemed unbefitting of royalty. Even the whispered claims that he had killed a few of his past wives. And yet, he hadn’t expected Hyun-Jin to care about his well-being so openly. After all, wasn’t this the same prince who was rumored to be as cold as the land he ruled? The same one whose name was spoken with equal parts fear and reverence?

Hyun-Jin seemed caring, but also impossible to read—like a blank sheet of paper, withholding every story written on it. His words were steady and deliberate, but there was little warmth, no indication of what lay beneath the surface. Felix leaned back against the headboard and let his head tilt upward.

What he also wanted to know, was why Hyun-Jin had been so curious if he was going to sever their engagement out of the blue. He had expected interrogation about the fire or the dragon—something practical. Instead, Hyun-Jin’s question lingered in his mind, unsettling him. Was he testing Felix’s loyalty? Or was there more to it? Felix’s brows furrowed as he replayed the moment in his head.

“Are you going to use this as an excuse to end our marriage?”

The question hadn’t carried judgment, but there was an undercurrent of something—curiosity, concern, or perhaps something else Felix couldn’t name.

Chapter Text

Tw: implications of abuse/Non Consensual behavior 

Felix woke up to the pale light of morning filtering through the curtains. He blinked against the haze of sleep, his body reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed. He slept well, unsurprisingly—safe and content. Hyun-Jin’s room had stayed untouched; the fire didn’t purposely go out, either. Reaching out, his fingers brushed over the cool, empty sheets beside him. Hyun-Jin wasn’t there.

Felix sat up slowly, his brows knitting together. He had fallen asleep waiting last night, hoping that Hyun-Jin would come back—if not to his own bed, then at least to the suite. But the space remained undisturbed as if Hyun-Jin hadn’t set foot in it at all. Throwing off the covers, Felix pushed himself to his feet, the wooden floor cool beneath his toes. He grabbed the nearest blanket and slipped it over his shoulders before stepping out into a small connecting hall. The castle was silent at this hour, guards stationed at their posts but otherwise still.

Walking toward Hyun-Jin’s study, Felix pressed his palm against the wood and slowly pushed it open. The door creaked softly as it gave way, revealing the dimly lit interior. The room was windowless, swallowed by shadows, with only a set of candles burning low on the desk. Its faint glow stretched across the cluttered surface—books stacked haphazardly, loose papers strewn about, and half-finished sketches spilling over the edges. Drawing canvases leaned against the walls, some blank, others smudged with charcoal and paint. Brushes and palettes lay scattered nearby, the scent of oil and turpentine lingering faintly in the air.

Felix’s gaze swept the room before landing on the couch tucked against the far wall—his eyes stopping at the familiar figure occupying it. Hyun-Jin lay sprawled across the cushions, one arm draped over his face as if to block out the little light the room had—or perhaps the world. His shirt was rumpled, the collar loose, and his breathing slow but steady. Felix stepped closer, his bare feet padding lightly against the floor. The dry smudges of paint on Hyun-Jin’s fingertips and the creases in his clothes suggested he hadn’t left the room all night. Instead, he’d been here—working, brooding, or both—until exhaustion finally caught up with him.

Felix stopped at the edge of the couch. In truth—he didn’t know why he was seeking him out. He had no reason to, necessarily, but only for a greeting as it would be polite. It felt wrong to just leave without saying anything—more so when he barely knew his way around the castle yet without a guide. The hallways all looked the same to him, endless stretches of stone and heavy doors that blurred together no matter how many times he passed them. Hyun-Jin was the only familiar thing here, even if “familiarity” was still a stretch.

And maybe that was the problem.

Felix didn’t know what to expect from him—not yet. He didn’t know what kind of mornings Hyun-Jin preferred, whether he wanted company or solitude, or whether he expected Felix to follow him like an obedient dog or give him space. And after last night, Felix wasn’t sure where they stood at all. Then again, catering to Hyun-Jin isn’t his priority. He’s only here to gain a good impression, and if he does manage to win his heart along the way—that’s just a plus one.

Felix decided to leave him alone after that.

He took a step back, quiet and careful, with the plan to find the nearest worker or maid in the castle—to see what he should do or should be doing next. Yet, the moment he did, a hand shot out. Felix startled, his breath catching as Hyun-Jin’s fingers curled around his wrist. The grip wasn’t tight, but it was firm enough to halt him in place. Hyun-Jin’s arm shifted, sliding down from his face, though his eyes remained closed.

“…You’re leaving?” The Prince’s voice was low, rough with sleep, and it sent an unsteady ripple through Felix’s chest.

“I…” Felix started. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” He said, hoping he didn’t seem creepy about it. (He had been, after all, watching him sleep for a minute too long while he was in deep thought). But how did he know it was him and not someone else?

Hyun-Jin’s eyes opened at that—dark and clouded with the need for sleep. He laid his eyes on him, and his lips parted to say something, then they closed. That happened twice before he settled on a response. “…You may leave when the maids come to fetch you.”

Felix nodded quickly, straightening as if the words had permitted him to breathe again. “Thank you for informing me. I’ll return to your room then. I’m sorry for waking y—“

“Stay,”

“Pardon me?” Felix’s usually calm expression faltered, breaking just enough to show his surprise.

Hyun-Jin’s gaze didn’t waver. He pushed himself up slightly, leaning his weight onto one elbow, and the movement made Felix’s pulse skip. “I said stay,” Hyun-Jin repeated, slower this time. His tone wasn’t harsh, but it didn’t leave room for argument either. “Sit.”

Felix hesitated once more, caught between obeying and questioning. His instincts told him to retreat, to follow the safe, practiced routine he’d always relied on in situations like this. But Hyun-Jin’s hand hadn’t let go of his wrist yet—it lingered, warm and gentle, tethering him to the moment. It wasn’t tight enough to restrain, but firm enough to make it clear that letting go wasn’t an option. So he sat—on the very edge of the couch, uncertain and stiff. His hands rested in his lap, fingers loosely tangled as if preparing himself for whatever would come next.

Hyun-Jin clearly wanted or needed something, even if Felix couldn’t tell what that something was just yet. The only thing he didn’t understand was why he had to be held through it all. “…Is there a problem?”

Hyun-Jin didn’t answer right away, so Felix waited and waited some more as the silence grew heavier with each passing second. He almost spoke again, but then Hyun-Jin’s hand slid down, thumb brushing over the dorsal of Felix’s wrist. “No,” Hyun-Jin said at last. “Not a problem.”

Felix blinked, his brows furrowing. That didn’t make sense—none of this did. He glanced down at Hyun-Jin’s hand, then back to his face, half-hidden by shadows and strands of hair. “Then why—”

“Just stay.”

This time, his voice was softer—quiet, almost uncertain. But the words still carried weight, enough to keep Felix rooted where he was. Felix bit the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to swallow the questions bubbling at the back of his throat. He let his shoulders relax—just slightly—and leaned back against the couch. “…Okay.”

He really didn’t understand.

But he listened nonetheless.

The quiet stretched on, broken only by the faint crackle of the candle and the soft rhythm of Hyun-Jin’s breathing. Felix sat still, his wrist resting lightly in Hyun-Jin’s grip, and tried not to focus on the warmth seeping through his skin. About twenty minutes later—a maid arrived, her soft knock at the door startling Felix out of his thoughts. Hyun-Jin stirred, his fingers twitching before he finally—reluctantly—let go of him.

Felix pulled back quickly, smoothing his robe as if to shake off the lingering sensation, but the movement did little to steady his pulse. The maid stepped inside, her eyes flicking briefly between them. Felix caught the way her gaze lingered—curious, almost amused—as it settled on the space where their hands had been.

Felix cleared his throat. “Thank you for coming,” He said.

The maid nodded politely but didn’t bother to hide her interest in them as she turned toward Hyun-Jin. “Shall I prepare your clothes for the day, sir?”

“Yes, that would be nice, Mei,” Hyun-Jin replied, his tone direct again as if the past twenty minutes hadn’t happened. He leaned back into the couch, running a hand through his hair before gesturing toward Felix. “But make sure he’s taken care of first.”

Felix blinked at the unexpected instruction but quickly covered his surprise with a polite nod. “I’ll follow you, then.”

The maid gave another bow and stepped aside, waiting for him. Felix paused for just a moment, glancing back at Hyun-Jin. He thought he might say something more, but Hyun-Jin only waved him off with a flick of his hand. Taking the hint, Felix followed the maid out, his steps measured even as his thoughts churned. He didn’t look back, but he could still feel the ghost of Hyun-Jin’s touch against his skin.

Felix followed the maid down the hall, his steps echoing faintly against the polished floors. The castle still felt foreign to him—too large, too cold—but the soft rustle of the maid’s gown provided a small, familiar comfort. When they reached the bathroom, Felix paused just inside the door, taking in the space. The room was large, almost needlessly so, with marble floors and a clawfoot tub set near the far wall. Steam lingered faintly in the air, the scent of lavender clinging to it, though the room itself was cool.

He turned his attention to the maid as she began gathering supplies. She had blue hair, pinned back neatly, though a few strands had slipped loose around her face. Her features were soft and youthful, her expression calm but focused. “I’ll be the main one in charge of preparing your clothes and any other needs you might have,” Mei said, glancing at him with a blinding smile. “If there’s anything specific you require, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

Felix nodded, returning her smile with a polite one of his own. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Her eyes scanned him before continuing. “I noticed yesterday that the clothes you packed were…limited.”

Felix frowned slightly. “I didn’t have much time to prepare.” He said. In the Sunshine Kingdom, it never gets cold. It’s always warm, sunny weather—so he doesn’t have many winter clothes or places to buy them.

“That’s understandable,” She said quickly, as if sensing his discomfort. “I’ll just arrange for a tailor to meet with you soon. We’ll make sure everything fits properly and suits your needs.”

Felix relaxed at her reassurance. “Thank you,” He said again, quieter this time.

The maid gave a small nod, her hands moving deftly as she set out fresh towels and oils. “Here, me and a few others are instructed to help with your bathing time in the morning. Are you okay with that?”

Felix's first instinct was to nod—to agree if only to avoid any unnecessary fuss. It wasn’t as though he minded, necessarily. He’d grown up surrounded by servants, used to being tended to without question, so the offer itself wasn’t surprising. But then again…His eyes dropped, fingers curling slightly at his sides. Some parts of his body have been—damaged. Faint reminders of a past and present he’d rather keep hidden. They were easy enough to overlook when he was fully dressed, but bare? Exposed? Felix’s stomach twisted.

He didn’t know these maids, didn’t trust them yet, especially when Calcifer already turned out to be against him, meaning, there would be more opposition to come. The last thing he wanted was for whispers to start spreading through the castle. Whispers about what they’d seen—what he looked like beneath his clothes. He wouldn’t be able to stop it if they talked. And worse—what if it reached the Hwangs? Felix’s mouth went dry at the thought. He couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not ever.

So, he shook his head. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

The maid blinked, surprised by the sudden firmness in his tone. “…Are you sure?”

“Yes. I prefer to handle it myself.”

She hesitated, but after a moment, she dipped her head. “Of course. As you wish. I will be outside waiting then. If you need me, please call for me.”

Felix exhaled slowly as she turned to tidy the last of the supplies. The tension in his shoulders didn’t ease, even when the door closed behind her.

His fingers hovered at the buttons of his long sleeve, hesitant at first, but then he forced himself to work quickly. One by one, the fabric came undone, and he slipped it off his shoulders, folding it neatly and placing it on the counter. The rest followed, and despite being alone, Felix’s movements slowed as he approached the tub. His gaze flicked—once—to the mirror on the far wall, but he looked away just as quickly, his chest tightening. He stepped in carefully, the water warm as it lapped around his legs. It should’ve been comforting—it usually was—but as he sank down and the heat crept up to his shoulders, his eyes betrayed him. They shifted back to the mirror.

This time, there was no avoiding it.

His reflection stared back—vulnerable, exposed—and when he caught sight of his back, he winced.

The wounds weren’t…loud.

They weren’t grotesque or jagged or completely fresh. But they were there—scars and lashes of thin, pale streaks marring the skin near his shoulder blades and back, remnants of things from the past and present. Worse, they didn’t cease there. They trailed lower, unsightly lines cutting across the curve of his hips and down to the backs of his thighs.

And he hated them.

The way they stood out against his otherwise smooth skin, shameful reminders of things he’d tried so hard to forget. No one had seen them—not in years. He’d made sure of that. He’d been careful, careful enough that sometimes, even he could pretend they didn’t exist. But here, in light, with the mirror reflecting every mark and shadow, there was no pretending. Felix tore his eyes away and forced himself to move, rubbing the soap between a cloth until it lathered, then dragging it over his skin. Sometimes, he also wondered that if he scrubbed hard enough, they would disappear.

——

Felix sat in the same spot at the dining table as he did yesterday, his fork idly pushing pieces of half-eaten fruit around his plate. The breakfast spread before him was extravagant—fresh pancakes, golden pastries, bacon, and bowls of ripe berries—but none of it appealed to him. His appetite had been more off than ever since last night, and he couldn’t bring himself to eat much, nor pretend he would. He couldn’t stop thinking about the whole dragon situation and his interaction with everyone involved. Yeji hadn’t completely blamed him, but her caution lingered, evident in the way she’d spoken to him. It wasn’t outright distrust, but it wasn’t reassurance either.

Uncertainty hung over him, heavy and unshakable, leaving his stomach tied in knots. To make matters worse, Calcifer was nowhere to be seen. He’d half-expected that callous man to show up, either to scold him further or pry into the details of last night with more infuriating accusations. The dining hall felt far too quiet for his loud thoughts, making his nerves feel even more pronounced. Felix glanced around, hoping for some kind of distraction, but the servants kept their heads down as they moved in and out of the room, offering no reprieve. It was only his second day here, and already he felt like he was slipping—losing his footing in a place where every step mattered.

“…How was your rest?” Yeji cleared her throat before speaking up. “I do hope it was well…despite everything,” She continued, offering a small, apologetic smile. “I promise you something like this won’t ever happen again. You’re not in trouble, either, so please don’t let it bother you.”

Felix was unsure how to respond at first. The reassurance was welcome, but it didn’t do much to ease the tightness in his chest. Yeji must have noticed because she quickly added, “My parents chose to keep word about it quietly, so no one outside the castle will know what happened.”

“Your parents?”

“Yes.” Yeji nodded, her posture straightening slightly. “They’ve been informed, of course, as soon as they arrived here a little after it happened. They will be joining us for breakfast soon, so you’ll be able to meet them.”

Felix’s stomach dipped at the thought. Meeting Hyun-Jin’s parents—his soon-to-be in-laws now—wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined starting the morning, especially not with the events of last night still weighing on him. But he forced himself to nod anyway, smoothing his expression. “Thank you for letting me know.”

Yeji gave him a softer smile. “It’s no problem.” She said before pausing briefly, her head tilting as if considering something. “But…I’m curious.”

Felix glanced up, catching the slight shift in her tone.

“Now that you’ve met my brother,” She folded her hands neatly on the table. “What do you think of him so far?”

Felix’s fork hovered above his plate, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if she was being serious. The question seemed innocent enough—casual, even—but there was something in her gaze that made it clear she expected a real answer. What did he think of Hyun-Jin? He couldn’t exactly say he was terrifying or distant or the kind of man who makes you question every decision you’ve ever made.

“Well,” He started slowly, “I can’t say he was what I expected.” Yeji raised a brow, and he rushed to clarify. “I mean—it’s not a bad thing,” He added quickly. “He’s…Focused. Someone who clearly carries a lot of responsibility. He’s not like the rumors I’ve heard—not like I believed them.”

There was a faint glint of amusement in her eyes now. “That’s one way to put it,” Yeji said. “And the other?”

Felix hesitated. “The…other?”

Yeji leaned slightly closer. “The other parts you didn’t expect. Did nothing interesting happen?”

Felix swallowed. He thought about this morning, how tired he’d looked stretched out on the couch, yet still demeaning enough to leave him on edge. He thought about the weight of Hyun-Jin’s hand on his wrist, the way his voice had dropped when he’d told him to stay. “I’m not sure. He’s…somewhat complicated,” Felix finally said, careful with his words. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing either.”

Yeji hummed, leaning back in her seat. “Complicated,” She echoed, as if testing the word on her tongue. Then she smiled again—just faintly. “That sounds about right.”

Felix nodded slowly, mulling over her words. “Does your brother…sleep often?”

Yeji gave him a puzzled look. “Has he not mentioned it to you yet? Well—you probably haven’t had much time to speak considering everything that happened. He has insomnia.”

Felix pursed his lips. That explained a lot—the exhaustion in Hyun-Jin’s eyes, the late hours in his study.

“He doesn’t usually join us for breakfast because of how late he stays up,” Yeji continued, resting her chin in her hand. “But with your new engagement, he’ll need to switch up his schedule.”

Felix let out a quiet hum in response, but his thoughts wandered back to earlier—Hyun-Jin’s arm draped over him, the heat of his body, the way his grip had lingered even after he woke up. “If I may mention, too,” Felix started hesitantly, “Does he usually sleep with anything?”

Yeji raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like a stuffed animal, or—or…” Felix trailed off, suddenly regretting the question.

Yeji’s eyes widened for a moment before realization struck. “Oh! Did he cling to you?”

“Something like that,” He admitted. “I went to greet him, and I was…grabbed and told to stay where I was.”

Yeji laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “He gets like that when he’s running on less than four hours of rest,” She explained. “Anyone within his radius is, well, pulled in. Oddly enough, it helps him sleep.”

“Ah, I see.” Felix relaxed, though the memory still made his skin prickle. “So it’s a habit.”

“Yes, that’s true.” Yeji nodded, but then she tilted her head slightly, her gaze softening just a fraction more. “But to do that with you so early…”

“So early?”

Yeji only shook her head with a small smile, brushing off the thought. “Well, I wouldn’t be bothered about it too much,” She said. “Just know your scent is nice.”

Felix’s brows furrowed. “My scent?” He repeated to himself more than anything. “What does that—”

Before he could finish, the dining room doors slammed open with a thunderous bang.

Felix startled, nearly knocking his drink off the table as his head whipped toward the sound. Yeji turned as well, her expression instantly shifting from amusement to mild annoyance as quick footsteps followed. In came an older pair—a woman and a man—both dressed in silky garments that shimmered under the morning light. Their presence commanded attention, the influence of royalty evident in every step. The man bore an uncanny resemblance to Yeji, with sharp features and dark eyes that carried an air of quiet authority, despite the slight panic currently etched across his face. The woman, on the other hand, mirrored Hyun-Jin almost perfectly—her black hair falling in soft waves, her elegance undercut only by the irritation in her voice as she stormed into the room.

Felix barely had time to sit up straighter before the woman raised a fan and smacked it against the taller man’s shoulder with surprising force. “How long does it take for one man to put on a coat?!” She scolded, her tone harsh but not without warmth. “Honestly, you need to get over this ridiculous anxiety of yours. It’s breakfast—not an audience with the emperor!”

The man flinched and stumbled back a step, throwing up his hands as if to shield himself. “I’m sorry, love. Truly, I am!” He said hurriedly, his voice much softer in comparison. “I was just making sure everything was in place! You know how I—ow! Would you stop that?!”

Another smack of the fan cut him off, and Yeji let out a sigh as if this was all very routine. Felix, meanwhile, sat frozen, unsure whether to be amused or deeply concerned. The woman finally paused, narrowing her eyes at her husband. “You’ll give the poor boy the wrong impression,” She huffed, smoothing out her skirt before turning to Felix with a sudden, radiant smile. “You must be our Felix, of the sunshine kingdom, yes?”

Felix quickly rose to his feet, bowing slightly. “Ah—yes. It’s an honor to meet you, your majesty,”

The woman’s sharp gaze softened as she looked him over, but the man quickly stepped forward, offering his own warm, albeit slightly sheepish, smile. “No need for formalities here,” He said. “We’re in the process of becoming family now, after all.”

Felix blinked, taken aback by the casualness. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were this friendly toward any previous partners Hyun-Jin had. The woman gave her husband another pointed look before facing Felix again. “I’m Mrs. Hwang, or you can call me Wooyoung. This is my husband Seobin.” She said, her voice regaining its poised elegance. “You’ll have to forgive him—he’s always like this. A shy mess.”

“I am not—”

“You are, Seo.” She interrupted before offering Felix another smile. “Now, let’s sit. We’ve got so much to discuss, don’t we?”

Felix nodded and carefully sat back down. The dynamic between them was unexpected, but in a way, it was also endearing. Despite the playful bickering, they seemed loving—comfortable in a way that made Felix feel slightly less nervous.

Lady Hwang settled into her seat gracefully, while her husband followed suit, though not without fumbling slightly with his chair. Once everyone was seated, Lady Hwang cleared her throat, her expression softening as her gaze fell on Felix. “Before anything else,” She began, “I believe an apology is in order—For last night. You shouldn’t have had to go through something like that—especially not so soon after your arrival.”

Seobin nodded firmly. “It’s…regrettable,” He said, folding his hands together. “You weren’t the first to witness something like that, I’m afraid, but that doesn’t make it any more acceptable. We should’ve had better safeguards in place.”

Felix’s stomach twisted at the reminder, but he kept his expression neutral, offering them a small nod. “It’s alright,” He replied, though the words felt heavier than they should. “I understand these things can happen.”

Lady Hwang gave him a searching look as if she could see the hesitation in his voice. “Still,” She said gently, “We don’t want you to feel unsafe here. This will soon be your home if all goes well between you two for the next three months. Therefore, it’s important to us that you feel welcome and cared for.”

Seobin shifted uncomfortably before adding, “And protected. You’ll find that not everyone…agrees with this marriage. But I’m sure you already knew that, no?”

“I did.”

“That’s right,” Lady Hwang confirmed, her tone firm but not unkind. “Hyun-Jin’s position—his influence—comes with its fair share of enemies and supporters alike. Some of them will see your marriage as a weakness to exploit, and something they shouldn’t allow.”

“But,” Seobin interjected quickly, “You won’t be facing any of that alone. We’ve already begun taking precautions to make sure nothing extreme happens again. We’ll stand by you through anything.”

Felix nodded slowly. For all their dramatics earlier, there was an undeniable sincerity in their words—and that, more than anything, made his chest tighten. The first thought that came to his head was that his parents weren’t like this. They weren’t kind, or supportive. They wouldn’t have reassured, defended, or accepted his “mistake” so openly. Instead, they would have called him a burden, a troublemaker—blaming him for the incident and demanding he fix it, no matter the cost to himself. His parents wouldn’t have comforted him. They wouldn’t have apologized. They wouldn’t have held his hand and promised protection, they—

They wouldn’t have done anything but expect.

Felix forced his eyes down to his plate, stabbing at a piece of fruit. He felt like throwing up.

“…Felix?”

He looked back up quickly at the sound of his name, finding Lady Hwang watching him with a curious tilt of her head.

“Are you alright?” She asked lightly, feathery, with a frown on her lips. “If you didn’t get enough rest or you feel unwell, please let us know.”

Felix opened his mouth to answer, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful or let any of his thoughts slip out where they didn’t belong, so instead, he forced a small smile. “Yes,” He said. “I’m fine. Thank you. I appreciate everything you’ve said.”

Lady Hwang didn’t look entirely convinced, but she let it go, offering him a small nod before reaching for her cup of tea. Felix exhaled quietly, pressing his hands against his knees beneath the table to steady himself. He couldn’t get caught up in this. Not now. He knew this wouldn’t be his permanent home - not with his luck - and they weren’t his parents. But even so, as the conversation around him began to pick up again, he couldn’t shake the feeling of safety that had settled over him from their words. And he didn’t know whether that scared him more than the dragon had.

“Now, We’ve arranged an appointment for you to visit our family doctor after breakfast. It’s crucial you provide him with info about your mating cycles and or any health issues. We want to make sure you’re the utmost comfortable during those times—should you choose to spend it here.”

Felix nearly choked at that, glancing up at her wide-eyed. A doctor? What for? Surely it’s not about his eating, or…or—

“Ah.” Felix started, his face heating, “I—um—”

Lady Hwang raised a hand to stop him. “No need to be embarrassed,” She assured him. “It’s standard practice for anyone joining the family. We want to make sure you’re comfortable during those times—should you choose to spend it here. Plus…we all go through it.” She trailed off, looking at her husband in a way that made him shy away as his face went red.

Yeji stuck out her tongue in disgust.

Felix swallowed, forcing himself to nod. “Of course,” He said, though the words felt stiff.

Lord Hwang chimed in with a nod of agreement. “It’s just precautionary,” He said. “Your health comes first, Felix. And that includes ensuring you have what you need during those…particular moments. We don’t want to sound intrusive by saying all this, but it’s best to know this information early in case of an emergency.”

Felix nodded again, this time more earnestly.

“Well then, we won’t keep you any longer,” Lady Hwang said, brushing off her skirts. “Once the doctor’s visit is over, feel free to take the day to explore the castle grounds. The staff will be more than happy to assist you.”

Seobin followed her lead, standing and offering Felix a nod of farewell. “We’ll see you later during dinner,” He said.

Felix stood as well, bowing slightly out of habit before following the assistant who appeared at the door to guide him out. As he walked, his thoughts spun. Between the doctor’s visit and the lingering weight of their earlier conversation, the day already felt heavier than he was prepared for. But at least, for now, he had some direction. And with so much uncertainty still hanging in the air, that was better than nothing.

Once the assistant had led him out, he was immediately transferred to a guard. This one wasn’t a familiar face like Chang-bin, unfortunately, but he wasn’t unwelcoming either. The alpha stood tall, with neatly combed brown hair and broad shoulders that hinted at his strength. But what caught Felix’s attention first were his big, round pupils and soft eyes—the kind that looked almost too gentle for someone in his position. If Felix had to put it into words, he’d say the man looked like a puppy.

The guard extended his hand as a gesture of courtesy, his grip firm yet careful as Felix took it. “Hello, Prince Felix,” He greeted with a steady voice. “My name is Kim Seung-min. It’s nice to meet you.”

Felix offered a polite nod, his lips curling into a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, Seung-min.”

Seung-min released his hand and took a step back, straightening his posture.

“I’ve been assigned to escort you for the rest of the morning,” He explained. “Starting with your visit to the family doctor, then a full tour.”

“Thank you,” He replied.

Seungmin tilted his head slightly, his soft gaze sharpening just a bit as if assessing him. “Are you feeling alright, Your Highness?”

Felix blinked, taken off guard.

“Yes. I’m fine,” He answered quickly. “Why?”

Seungmin didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press the matter either. “It’s nothing.” He gave a quick nod and motioned toward the hall. “The medical wing is this way. Let’s get going, then.”

Felix fell into step beside him, acutely aware of the guard’s watchful presence. It wasn’t overbearing—if anything, it felt oddly reassuring. Yet, Felix didn’t like it. He had the same freakishly good perception as Hyun-Jin, and he couldn’t help but feel like Seungmin already knew everything about him with a single look.

They arrived at the medical wing after a short walk through the castle’s sprawling corridors. The scent of polished stone and faint traces of lavender faded as they approached the large double doors, replaced by the sharp, sterile tang of antiseptic that seeped out the cracks. Felix swallowed hard, nerves prickling at the back of his neck.

Seung-min came to a halt beside him, reaching out to push the doors open before stepping aside. “This is where I’ll leave you,” Seung-min said, his voice calm but steady. “I’ll be stationed right outside if you need anything.”

Felix hesitated, briefly glancing back at him. “Thank you,” He said, offering a small bow.

Seungmin responded with a dip of his head, his soft eyes watching as Felix crossed the threshold. The doors clicked shut behind him. The room was spacious yet clinical, its white walls and marble floors designed for efficiency rather than comfort. Shelves lined the far wall, neatly stacked with glass jars, labeled vials, and rolled bandages. A marble counter stretched beneath them, stocked with metal tools that gleamed faintly under the overhead lights. The scent of antiseptic hung heavier inside, seeping into Felix’s senses as his steps slowed.

Several patient beds sat in the room, fitted with crisp white sheets, and a stool had been pushed aside nearby. Before he could linger too long, the sound of footsteps approached, and a man in a long white coat emerged from behind a curtain separating the space. His orange hair was slicked back neatly, and his glasses glinted under the lights as he adjusted them.

His sharp gaze swept over Felix in one quick, assessing motion before a professional smile took its place. “Prince Felix, I presume?”

Felix straightened his posture instinctively.

“Yes,” He replied.

The doctor extended a gloved hand.

“Doctor Lee,” He introduced himself. “Or, you may just call me Min-ho, since I’ll be overseeing your health assessments moving forward. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Felix shook his hand. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  Min-ho motioned to the bed.

“Please, have a seat. We’ll start with a few basic questions, and then I’ll conduct a quick examination. Nothing invasive like a physical, so no need to worry.”

Felix nodded and moved toward the bed, though the anxious knot in his stomach didn’t ease. He just had to get through this. Then it would be over.

Visiting a doctor is something he never will like doing. As helpful as they can be, they notice things others don’t, and in Felix’s case, that wouldn’t be good. In his kingdom, he’s always been able to avoid visiting his family’s doctor. It wasn’t difficult. He stayed out of trouble, kept his head down, and nobody really paid attention to whether he missed his appointments. Here, though, it’s different. 

The Queen and King had made it very clear he was to see the doctor, and not just today. Weekly checkups had already been arranged, and no room was left for negotiation. Felix knew it wasn’t meant to be a punishment, but it felt like one. A constant reminder that his new life would be different—that his privacy in this aspect, the little he’d clung to, was no longer entirely his own.

He shifted uncomfortably on the bed as Min-ho rolled a small stool closer, clipboard in hand. “Let’s start with the basics,” He said. “We’ll discuss medical history, any allergies, past injuries—things like that.”

Felix resisted the urge to flinch.

Past injuries.

His gaze flicked to his hands, resting stiffly on his lap, and he quickly forced himself to look back up. “Alright,” He said, managing to keep his voice steady. “I don’t have any past injuries. My record is clean.”

A lie.

“I don’t have any allergies, and I’ve been completely healthy so far.”

Stop lying.

Min-ho, paused just long enough for the silence to feel heavy. Then, with a slow nod, he jotted something down on the clipboard. Felix watched nervously, his hands curling against the edge of the bed as Min-ho set the clipboard aside. When the doctor’s gaze returned to him, it was sharp—calculating in a way that made Felix’s skin itch. “Healthy,” Min-ho repeated.

Felix swallowed, forcing himself to nod.

“Yet…” Min-ho leaned back slightly, his tone staying level but firm. “You seem a little underweight.”

Felix stiffened. “I—”

Min-ho didn’t give him the chance to finish. “Your wrists,” He continued, gesturing faintly toward them. “Thin. Your joints seem weak, too. So, based on the way you’re sitting, I’d guess you’re not eating enough—or haven’t been for some time.”

Felix’s jaw tightened. “There’s nothing wrong with me though,” He insisted.

Min-ho hummed thoughtfully but didn’t look convinced. “We’ll see,” He said, and then motioned toward the clipboard again. “I’ll need to take some measurements to confirm, but if there’s an issue, we’ll address it early. Right now though, I can tell you’re uncomfortable with that, so I want to do anything to confirm what you’ve just said. Yet.”

Felix’s stomach churned. He knew doctors were observant, but he hadn’t expected Min-ho to pick up on so much so quickly. And the worst part? This was only the start. He didn’t know what would come later on, if Min-ho would figure out his anorexia, or how his mental health is, or—the scars, and question him about his life in the Sunshine Kingdom, a place where—ironically—nothing “dark” happened.

Min-ho, still sending his unease, spoke up again. “You don’t have to worry about your record being shared, also. This is for me to know, so I can help immediately if something comes up. The king or Queen won’t know, but—the Prince, if he demands, will.”

“I understand.”

Min-ho stared at him for a moment longer. “Good,” He said slowly. “Now let’s move on. Can you tell me the date of your mating cycle? If you know it.”

“My cycle is every two months on the third.”

“Okay, it’s good that you're on a schedule. Our Prince’s…however, is very irregular. His cycle is every month, except it starts as a small fever every other date if you understand.”

Felix nodded slowly, unsure if he actually did get that.

“Since his rut was last month, this month he’ll only go through a simple fever—or, a lighter version,” Min-ho continued. “Since your engagement is in a trial period right now, you wouldn’t be responsible nor expected to help him through any for three months.”

“Then, on the days he does go through a full rut, is it contained?” Felix asked, hesitant.

Min-ho stopped writing, looking up at him with the faintest quirk of his brow. “Contained?”

Felix felt his cheeks heat slightly. “I just mean—is it manageable?”

That’s when Min-ho laughed. It was an odd laugh—soft, yet stuttering, a burst of giggles that sounded more surprised than amused. “No, no—it’s more like restrained,” Min-ho said, still grinning as if Felix had said something funny.

Felix’s mouth parted, but no words came out. Restrained? What did that even mean?

Min-ho caught the look on his face and leaned forward, resting his elbow on the clipboard. “Don’t look so nervous,” He said. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Hyun-jin doesn’t lose control or anything—he hasn’t yet, at least—but he does get…intense. We have measures in place to make sure everything stays in order.”

“Measures?” Felix echoed.

Min-ho tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing with amusement. “You’ll see if you’re still here by then,” He said, brushing it off like it wasn’t a big deal.

Felix wasn’t sure if that was comforting—or the opposite—because it sounded like a big deal.

“Back to you though, what scale would you rate your heats being? Light? Intense?”

“It’s a little over mild, but not exactly intense.”

Min-ho made another note. “Alright. And how do you handle it? Do you sometimes take precautions beforehand?”

Precautions. Now that was funny to Felix. He always had to take them during his heat, in a different context, because he’s never felt safe during one. His precautions weren’t like most others—simple preparations to make sure he had water, food, and anything to assist him through his heat.

Rather, he barricaded his door. Stuffed towels in the cracks of his windows and under any openings. Wore a collar—tight, uncomfortable, and humiliating but necessary. And he’d shut himself in his room for four days straight, refusing to leave for anything—not even food—because the risk was too high, to protect—

To prevent a certain someone from trying to come in. A certain alpha. With a chilling, coaxing voice he couldn’t forget. A presence that had lingered far too long outside his door.

He shoved the thought away, forcing himself back to the present. “I…” Felix hesitated, careful with his words. “I try to keep things manageable.”

Min-ho glanced up, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp.“Manageable?”

Felix nodded stiffly. “I stay…in my room. Make sure I have what I need ahead of time.”

It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly.

Min-ho seemed to consider that for a moment before finally jotting something else down. “Alright,” He said, though Felix wasn’t sure he believed him. “Just so you know,” Min-ho added, voice softening slightly, “You won’t necessarily need to stay in your room here. We have protocols, security, and trained staff to keep everything under control. There’s no need to lock yourself away in one place—you’re allowed to do simple things like visit the kitchen, lounge in the drawing room, etc. The only restriction is you can’t go outside castle walls, because there, not everyone can handle an omega in heat, and it’s dangerous being a royal.”

How nice. Felix tried to smile, but it felt tight. He wanted to believe him. He really did. But that sounded like a fantasy, unrealistic in a world filled with people who aren’t on the same terms.

Chapter Text

Felix had been sitting in the antiseptic-scented room for nearly forty-five minutes now. Most of that time had been spent trying to skillfully sidestep Min-ho’s personal questions. It wasn’t that Min-ho was prying inappropriately; he was simply doing his job as a doctor. But Felix wasn’t used to being questioned so directly—not about his health, his habits, or anything else that required peeling back secrets he’d carefully hidden for years.

Min-ho, to his credit, was patient. He had an easy way of phrasing things that felt less like an interrogation and more like a conversation. But no matter how gently the questions came, Felix found himself deflecting with vague answers and polite smiles. At some point during their conversation, Min-ho paused and set his clipboard down on the small table beside him. The weight of his next words was clear in his tone, though he kept his voice steady and matter-of-fact. “Okay, then,” Min-ho began, leaning forward slightly, “Lastly, You’re aware that, at some point, your cycles will trigger each other’s, yeah?”

Felix stiffened, his fingers curling tightly in his lap. The question wasn’t unexpected—he knew it would come up eventually—but it still sent a wave of discomfort through him. “I…I suppose I’ve heard of that happening,” He said cautiously, avoiding Min-ho’s gaze.

“It’s not just ‘hearing about it,’ Felix,” Min-ho replied with a faint smile, though his tone was firm. “It’s a biological fact, especially for alphas and omegas in close proximity. You might not notice it right away, especially since you’re both adjusting to the new dynamic, but it’s inevitable. It’s something you need to be prepared for.”

Felix swallowed, forcing himself to look up. “And what does that mean exactly? For us, I mean.”

Min-ho leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “It means that your mating cycles might sync up with his ruts—or at least influence the timing and intensity of them. It can be… unpredictable, to say the least.”

Felix nodded slowly, though the knot in his stomach only grew tighter.

“And if I may be blunt,” Min-ho continued, his tone softening slightly, “It also means that the closer you two get—emotionally, physically, intimately—the stronger that connection becomes. It’s not something to fear, but it is something to take seriously.”

“I understand,” He said quietly, though the words felt heavy on his tongue.

Min-ho studied him for a moment, his sharp gaze softening just a fraction. “Good. That’s all I need for now. We’ll deal with the specifics when the time comes. Just—be aware, alright? I thought it’d be good to remind you early on if you happen to come to love our Prince.”

Felix nodded again, unsure of what else to say. They were basically talking about sex, something he’s avoided and undeniably never experienced due to his engagement luck. Not that it bothers him, though—the idea of doing such with Hyun-Jin doesn’t prickle his skin with discomfort, or make him want to turn over and gag at how gross it can be. Rather, he’s just…here. Listening. Understanding. Not caring what path this takes—only until it winds somewhere bad. Somewhere dangerous. That’s when he’d worry. That’s when he’d resist. But for now, Felix stayed where he was, keeping his expression neutral even as Min-ho’s words sat heavy in his chest.

Min-ho seemed to sense his detachment and gave him a long look, his sharp eyes once again calculating. “You’re taking this well,” he said after a moment, the faintest hint of surprise in his tone.

Felix blinked, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “Should I not be?”

“Most would be panicked. Or at least overwhelmed,” Min-ho replied. “You’ve been thrown into this arrangement, and now you’re being told that it could influence one of the most personal aspects of your life. That’s…a lot to handle.”

Felix shrugged, letting his gaze drift to the tiled floor. “I’m used to things being out of my control. This is just another part of it. As long as I don’t make things worse, I’ll survive.”

Min-ho’s expression shifted, the faintest flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Well,” he said finally, leaning back and picking up his clipboard again, “You seem grounded, at least. That’ll help you a lot.”

Felix didn’t respond, his thoughts already drifting elsewhere. He wasn’t sure if he was grounded or simply numb, but either way, it didn’t matter. He’d adapt. He always did.

—.—

Meeting Seung-min back outside had been a relief and grace all in one. He didn’t have to stay in the medical wing anymore, and he wasn’t bombarded with questions about what had transpired inside by him, and for that, he was grateful. Minho had been hesitant to let him go at first, still curious about him with millions of questions, but the more Felix avoided his eyes and figured the more he knew he was uncomfortable. “I hope you didn’t find him too strict,” Seung-min said as they strolled down the sunlit corridor. His tone was casual, but his soft gaze flickered with concern as he glanced at Felix.

Felix shook his head, adjusting his scarf against the chill that seeped in from the castle walls. “Not strict, just…thorough.”

Seung-min chuckled lightly, the sound warm against the cold air. “That’s a polite way of putting it. Min-ho means well, but he’s definitely the type to dig deeper than people want him to.”

Felix offered a small smile in response, though he wasn’t entirely sure he agreed. “I think I got lucky he didn’t press harder.”

“Lucky or not, you’re out of there now,” Seung-min said, motioning toward the grand archway ahead that led to the castle’s training grounds. The snow outside sparkled under the pale sun, casting a brilliant, blinding glow over the open courtyard. It was a beautiful sight, the kind that momentarily distracted Felix from the lingering tension in his chest. “We’ll head to the training grounds now,” Seung-min continued. “It’s important you meet the other guards and familiarize yourself with how things work here. Eventually, you’ll be able to pick one to assist you permanently.”

Felix glanced at him, raising a brow. “Pick one? Like a personal guard?”

“Exactly,” Seung-min replied with a nod. “It’s tradition for anyone marrying into the Artevmia royal family. Your chosen guard will be with you whenever you need them—both for protection and support.”

Felix hesitated, the idea of picking someone to be by his side constantly feeling oddly foreign. “And they’re okay with this? Being assigned to someone like that?”

“They wouldn’t be guards if they weren’t,” Seung-min said with a grin. “Don’t overthink it too much. Once you meet them, I’m sure one will stand out to you.”

Felix nodded slowly, unsure but willing to see it through. As they stepped into the blindingly bright courtyard, the sound of clashing swords and echoed commands greeted him. Knights and mercenaries were practicing combat with each other and dummies, hardcore fighting that made him shiver a tad. They seemed strong - stronger and more disciplined than the army in his kingdom. He stayed close to Seung-min, observing the spectacle with quiet awe. But before they could make it far, a voice rang out from behind them.

“Puppy!”

Seung-min groaned, and before Felix could turn—thud. A blur of blue hair collided with Seung-min, nearly knocking him off balance. Felix blinked in surprise as the man clung to Seung-min like a koala, grinning ear to ear. “Did you think you could come out here without saying hi to me, Minnie? Rude,” The blue-haired man said dramatically, still latched onto him.

Seung-min sighed, gently prying him off. “Han Jisung, must you always?”

“Always,” Jisung replied without missing a beat, straightening his coat and fixing his hair like nothing had happened. “You’d miss me if I didn’t.”

Seung-min rolled his eyes, clearly used to this kind of interruption. “I’m busy giving the prince a tour. Could you not tackle me for once?”

Jisung finally noticed Felix standing just a step behind Seung-min. His playful demeanor froze in an instant, his smile faltering as his wide eyes took Felix in. “Oh,” Jisung said, his voice dropping an octave. His eyes widened for a moment before he cleared his throat, straightening further. “My bad. I didn’t realize.”

Felix tilted his head, offering a polite smile. “It’s alright.”

Jisung’s cheeks flushed. He took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to interrupt or—uh—make a scene either.”

Seung-min sighed again, folding his arms. “You’re always a scene, Jisung.”

“I’ll behave, I swear!” Jisung said quickly, holding his hands up in mock surrender before giving Felix a sheepish look. “Again, sorry for the, uh, sudden entrance. I’m Han Jisung. One of the royal guards around here.”

Felix chuckled lightly, his shoulders relaxing. “It’s nice to meet you, Jisung.”

“You too, Your Highness,” Jisung said, bowing theatrically before giving Seung-min a quick smirk. “Don’t think you’re off the hook. We’re sparring later.”

Seung-min groaned audibly. “Great.”

Ji-sung turned back to Felix, his grin reappearing as if the brief moment of awkwardness had never happened. “Are you here to see the prince?”

Felix blinked, startled by the question. “…He’s here?”

“Of course he is,” Ji-sung said, motioning dramatically toward the far end of the training grounds. “The prince never skips his morning sparring sessions. He’s probably over there, showing off like always.”

“I’m not here to see him,” Felix replied quickly, though his voice wavered slightly.

Ji-sung raised an eyebrow, a sly grin forming on his face. “Oh, really? Not even a little curious? Come on, he’s your fiancé. You can’t avoid him forever.”

“…I’m not avoiding him.” Felix hesitated, glancing toward the field Ji-sung had pointed out. “I’m just here to familiarize myself with the grounds,” He said, though even to himself, it sounded like a poor excuse.

“Perfect!” Ji-sung clapped his hands together as if Felix had agreed. “Then there’s no harm in stopping by to say hi. It’s all part of the tour, right?”

Felix opened his mouth to protest, but before he could get a word out, Ji-sung grabbed his wrist and started pulling him down the path.

“Wait—Ji-sung—I really—”

“You’ll thank me later,” Ji-sung said cheerfully, dragging him along with surprising strength for someone so giddy. Seung-min’s sigh echoed behind them, but he didn’t intervene and decided to follow along. As they approached the far end of the grounds, the sounds of combat grew louder. Felix’s heart began to race. He could easily make out Hyun-jin’s tall, slim figure in the middle of the sparring ring, moving with lethal grace. His strikes were quick and precise, and his opponent was barely able to keep up.

Every movement radiated power, and Felix found himself momentarily frozen, captivated by the sheer skill Hyun-jin displayed. He was a force to behold, each blow designed to overwhelm his opponent. There was something almost hypnotic about him too, the way his body twisted and turned with unyielding grace. His jaw was set with determination, and every inch of him exuding raw power and control. It was more impressive that he wasn’t wearing armor, just casual clothing befitting royalty.

“There he is,” Ji-sung said, grinning. “Pretty cool, huh?”

Felix swallowed hard, his throat dry. “Yeah…cool.”

Hyun-jin hadn’t noticed them yet, too focused on his opponent, but then Ji-sung dragged him closer to the edge of the ring.

“You should wave or something,” Ji-sung teased, nudging Felix lightly.

Felix shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good—”

“HYUN-JIN!” Ji-sung suddenly called out for him, his voice breaking the rhythm of the fight.

Hyun-jin’s head turned at the sound of Ji-sung’s voice, and in that split second of distraction, his opponent lunged forward, landing a hard blow to Hyun-jin’s stomach with the handle of his sword. Felix winced instinctively, his breath catching as Hyun-jin staggered back a step, his expression twisting briefly with pain. The knight immediately backed off, realizing he’d struck harder than intended, but Hyun-jin held up a hand to stop him from apologizing.

For a moment, Hyun-jin’s knees buckled slightly, and he leaned heavily on his sword, the blade sinking into the dirt to support his weight. His breathing was ragged, and his gaze dropped to the ground as he steadied himself. Felix’s concern spiked, but what he didn’t expect was the slight flush creeping up Hyun-jin’s neck, a faint redness that didn’t seem to be from exertion alone. Hyun-jin pressed his lips into a thin line, his shoulders rising and falling as he fought to compose himself.

“Are you alright…Your Highness?” His opponent asked cautiously, watching as Hyun-jin slowly straightened himself, his hand still gripping the sword for balance.

“I’m fine,” Hyun-jin replied, his voice steady despite the slight hitch in his breathing. He glanced over at Ji-sung, his narrowed eyes promising retribution for the distraction, before his attention darted to Felix.

The moment their eyes met, Felix looked away, unsure of what to do under Hyun-jin’s piercing gaze.

“Prince Felix,” Hyun-jin said, his tone firm but not unkind. He wiped at his brow, forcing a calmness into his movements that betrayed the lingering tension in his body. “What are you doing here?”

Felix fumbled for a response, glancing briefly at Ji-sung, who was grinning unapologetically. “I, uh, didn’t mean to interrupt…” He stammered. “Ji-sung thought I should…see you.”

Hyun-jin exhaled slowly, as though reigning in his irritation, before motioning Felix closer with a tilt of his head. “Well,” He said, his voice lower now, “Since you’re here, come closer. There’s no point in standing there awkwardly.”

Felix hesitated but obeyed, stepping toward the edge of the ring as Hyun-jin leaned his sword against his shoulder. Behind him, Ji-sung was snickering softly, clearly enjoying the entire scene far too much. Meanwhile, Seung-min looked absolutely mortified for a reason unbeknownst to him. “I’ll deal with you later,” Hyun-jin muttered toward Ji-sung before turning his full attention back to Felix, his expression softening just a fraction. “How did you find breakfast? I know I wasn’t there to join you, and I apologize.”

Felix blinked, momentarily thrown by the casual question. “Oh, it was…delicious,” He replied, though what was eaten…was thrown up a little later. “I also got to meet your parents, and they were very kind. They apologized for what happened last night.”

Hyun-jin gave a slight nod. “They would. My parents aren’t fond of chaos, especially when it comes to guests—or family, for that matter. I’ll take it as a good sign they made you feel welcome.”

Felix offered a small smile, but his gaze wandered back to the sparring ring where Hyun-jin had been fighting. The area was bustling just moments ago, but now the knights were beginning to disperse, wiping sweat from their cheeks and exchanging casual banter as they moved to pack up their equipment. Some were staying at their posts, watching the interaction between them with nosy curiosity.

Hyun-jin followed Felix’s gaze, his expression hardening slightly as he took in the scene. He let out a quiet breath, as though shedding the exhaustion of training. “This isn’t exactly the best place to talk,” He said after a moment, his gaze shifting back to Felix. “Come with me. The garden is quieter.”

Felix nodded, grateful for an excuse to leave the courtyard, though nervous he’d be left alone with Hyun-Jin again. Hyun-jin slung his sword over his back, his movements fluid despite the earlier hit to his stomach. He turned to Seung-min briefly. “Make sure Ji-sung doesn’t cause any more trouble. If he does, drag him to Min-ho.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Seung-min replied, his mortified expression giving way to his usual calm demeanor as he shot a glare at Ji-sung, who merely shrugged with an innocent grin. Hyun-jin motioned for Felix to follow, leading him out of the courtyard and toward the castle’s expansive gardens. The path wound through neatly trimmed hedges and vibrant flowers, the air cooler and more fragrant as they moved further away from the clamor of the training grounds.

As they walked, Hyun-jin glanced at Felix. “So,” He began, his voice quieter now, “What else did my parents say to you?”

“Nothing serious. They only talked about our engagement.”

“And what did you think then?”

“Nothing,” Felix answered simply. “We’re in a trial period for three months, so I’ll do my best to gain your favor. I am a bit interested though…about your past partners.”

At that, Hyun-Jin stopped walking. His eyebrows furrowed, suddenly displeased as if remembering an unpleasant memory, and immediately regret flooded Felix. “I apologize if that question was intrusive. I’ve just been curious now that we’ve met. Everyone hints at your past partners, so I just wanted to know what I can do—“

Hyun-jin raised a hand to stop Felix from rambling further, his expression unreadable. He turned slightly, looking out at the garden as if searching for the right words. “No, it’s fine,” He said finally, though his tone carried a hint of hesitance. “It’s just…an unexpected question.”

Felix pressed his lips together, frowning. “I’m really sorry if it’s too personal.”

“It’s not too personal,” Hyun-jin said, glancing back at Felix. “I’ve had partners, but nothing serious. My…circumstances didn’t exactly allow for anything long-lasting or meaningful.”

“Circumstances?” Felix asked cautiously.

“You’ve seen how my family is. My parents are loving, but they’re also protective. Relationships weren’t exactly a priority for me, and when they did happen, they ended before they could begin. You’ve heard the rumors about me, no?”

Felix nodded slowly, unsure how to respond.

Hyun-jin resumed walking, slower this time, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. “But I’ll explain what you want to know. I haven’t had many partners, and most of my…relationships were arranged. Like ours. None of them lasted beyond a few months. We were never compatible enough to make it work, and that’s partially my fault. I’m described…not loving enough.”

Felix tilted his head, intrigued but cautious. “Not loving enough?”

Hyun-jin let out a dry laugh, though it lacked humor. “It’s a polite way of saying I was cold. Distant. Detached. My partners said I didn’t care for them, didn’t provide the affection they wanted, or at least pretended to want.” He paused, gazing at the neatly trimmed flowers surrounding them. “In truth, it was never just about me not caring enough. It was that I was never seen as a person to begin with. I was a title, a name, a prize to flaunt. They didn’t want me—they wanted what being with me could give them. The status, the gifts, the attention from others. When they realized I wouldn’t bend to their whims or shower them with the kind of love they wanted to put on display, they left.”

Felix blinked, surprised by the honesty in Hyun-jin’s voice. “So…you were used.”

Sounds familiar.

Hyun-jin nodded, his expression unreadable. “That’s one way to put it. They came into these relationships expecting perfection, expecting me to fulfill some fantasy they’d built up in their heads. When I didn’t fit their image of what I should be, they grew frustrated. And eventually, they gave up.”

Felix frowned. “That doesn’t seem fair. You’re not an object to show off.”

“No, but it doesn’t stop people from trying to treat me like one,” Hyun-jin said, his voice quieter now. “It’s why I keep my distance. Why I don’t…invest too much in anyone until I know it’s safe to. It’s easier that way.”

Felix felt a strange weight settle in his chest. He didn’t know how to respond immediately, but the pain behind Hyun-jin’s words was unmistakable. For all his sharp edges and guarded demeanor, Hyun-jin had been hurt—deeply—and the cracks in his armor, though subtle, were there. “Well,” Felix began. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re unloving. Maybe you just never had the chance to love someone the way you wanted to.”

Hyun-jin glanced at him, his eyes flickering with an emotion Felix couldn’t quite name. “Maybe.” He said. His gaze lingered, heavy and searching, as if he were trying to uncover some hidden truth beneath Felix’s composed expression. For a moment, the intensity of it was almost too much to bear, and Felix found himself shifting slightly under the weight of those piercing eyes. “Though now,” Hyun-jin said slowly, his voice softer, almost contemplative, “I think things might be different.”

Lee Felix.

The infamous prize of the Sunshine Kingdom. That was the title everyone whispered, wasn’t it? The youngest prince, the golden omega shaped and molded into a perfect figure by his family, known more for his title and beauty than for who he truly was. A man whose life had surprisingly been meticulously stained with family issues and an “inappropriate” relationship with his cousin.

Hyun-jin had fully expected Felix to crumble after enduring the chaotic first day he did in this kingdom and demanded to leave immediately. It wouldn’t have been a surprise. That’s what everyone else had done, after all; Those who came before Felix had all left eventually, their pride or expectations shattered, retreating with excuses of incompatibility or irreconcilable differences.

But Felix? Felix had been different.

Despite everything, he stayed. He’d survived the initial chaos, the danger, and the sheer unfamiliarity of the Kingdom. He’d faced Hyun-jin’s coldness, his parents’ probing, and even the curious scrutiny of people like his sister and Min-ho—and he hadn’t once faltered outright. There was a quiet strength in him, one that Hyun-jin couldn’t ignore. He wasn’t bratty or demanding, nor did he try to manipulate his way into favor. Felix tried to gain his standing with purpose, careful and respectful, yet never spineless.

And then there were the little things.

The way Felix’s bunny teeth bit on his lip when he was deep in thought. The way he looked at the world around him as though he were always trying to understand it. The way he listened—really listened—when others spoke, giving them his full attention in a way that felt rare and genuine. And his freckles—those speckled dots that looked like an undiscovered galaxy in his eyes.

Hyun-jin’s lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile as he glanced at Felix again. “You’re not like the others,” He murmured, the words more to himself than anyone else.

Felix looked up, blinking as he missed what he said. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing,” Hyun-jin said, shaking his head. But the thought lingered, undeniable. “Come sit, we have much lighter things to speak about, no? Have you heard of our kingdom's banquet?”

Felix nodded slowly, taking a seat on the bench next to where Hyun-jin gestured. “Briefly. I know a little about what goes on,” He answered. “It’s about our engagement, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” Hyun-jin confirmed. “The banquet, where everyone—at least those who approve—come to congratulate us and bless our relationship for the future. You will be attending in four days, so please let me or a maid know if you need anything to prepare for it.”

“I see. Thank you for letting me know. I don’t think I’ll need anything since I’m used to going to gatherings.”

“Well,” Hyun-jin said, leaning back slightly, “if anything comes up, don’t hesitate to inform us.” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “…I heard from the maids earlier that you didn’t want help getting ready. Is there an issue? They take pride in their work.”

Felix’s eyes widened for a moment, panic rippling through him as he quickly searched for an answer. “I’m just shy,” he blurted, his voice slightly higher-pitched than usual.

“That’s…peculiar,” Hyun-jin said, trailing off as his eyes swept over Felix’s figure with careful scrutiny. Felix shrunk back instinctively, though not because of any malice in Hyun-jin’s gaze. It wasn’t invasive or inappropriate, nothing like he was being undressed with his eyes. But still, Felix didn’t like it. There was something in the way Hyun-jin looked at him—a fervent, unrelenting intensity, fervent enough to make Felix feel like prey beneath his gaze. It wasn’t aggressive, but it wasn’t harmless either. Hyun-jin’s eyes locked onto him as though he were reading him, studying every twitch of his expression, every subtle shift of his body language.

Felix tried not to flinch. His voice softened as he spoke again. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate their work. I just…I prefer doing things myself.”

Hyun-jin hummed softly, his expression unreadable. “I see.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as his gaze didn’t waver. “Though, it wouldn’t hurt to let them help next time, Felix. If you’re truly that shy, then you can wear a bathing shirt or whatever suits your taste. You’re not alone here. I don’t know how it was in your kingdom, but you don’t have to do everything by yourself.”

The words struck something deep inside Felix—something he didn’t want to acknowledge, not here, not now. “I’ll try,” He said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good,” Hyun-jin said. “Because you deserve to be taken care of well here, whether you believe it or not.”

“…Of course,” Felix said mutely.

-.-

The banquet came as scheduled, four days later. For the past three hours, Felix had been surrounded by maids and butlers, all working tirelessly to ensure he looked flawless. They moved delicately, brushing his hair, adjusting his clothing, and murmuring soft reassurances as they worked.

Felix was dressed in an elegant white suit that hugged his figure perfectly, accented with subtle gold embroidery along the lapels and sleeves. A rose was tucked neatly into his breast pocket, its velvety petals brightening in the soft candlelight of the room. His hair was styled simply, left to flow naturally around his face in soft waves. Stud and hoop earrings were clipped tohis pierced ears, and jeweled rings were encasing his fingers.

The maids fussed over the final touches, ensuring his freckles were prominent and every thread and button was in place, while the butlers arranged the tray of accessories on a nearby table. “Hold still please, Your Highness,” One maid said gently as she adjusted the collar of his suit. Another stepped forward to drape a light gold necklace around his neck, the small pendant resting just above his chest. Felix stood patiently, though he couldn’t deny the nervous flutter in his stomach. The weight of the evening pressed heavily on him as he took in the fact that this wasn’t just another banquet; it was a display of their engagement, a public declaration of a union that felt so ambiguous to everyone else.

“Perfect,” One of the maids finally declared, stepping back to admire their work. “You look breathtaking, Your Highness.”

Felix gave a small, polite smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thank you for all your assistance everyone,” He said softly.

As he looked at his reflection in the grand mirror before him, he looked the part of a prince—regal, composed, untouchable. And yet, beneath the polished exterior, he was still just Felix, bracing himself for what the evening would bring.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. One of the butlers stepped forward to open it, revealing Seung-min, who was dressed in formal attire befitting his role. “The banquet is about to begin, Prince Felix,” Seung-min announced.

Felix took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Let’s go,” He said, his voice steady as he turned to follow Seung-min out of the room. As they walked down the hallway, the sound of chatter and clicking classes filled the air, getting louder and louder the closer they got. Stepping through the entrance, however, it all seemed to hush the moment Felix stepped onto the top of the sweeping staircase. A collective gasp rippled through the room as all eyes turned toward him.

A sea of nobles dressed in their finest silks and velvets stared up at him, their expressions a mixture of admiration, curiosity, and scrutiny. Felix’s heart beat loudly in his chest, but he kept his face composed, descending the stairs with as much grace as he could muster with Seung-min. Near the center of the room, Yeji stood in a cluster of well-dressed individuals, her head turning as she noticed him. She raised a hand and waved, her smile bright and welcoming, and for a moment, the tension in Felix’s chest eased.

Yeji looked nothing short of perfect. She was dressed in a flowing gown of deep emerald green, the fabric shimmering like crushed jewels under the golden light. Delicate silver embroidery traced patterns of ivy along the hem and sleeves, and her hair was styled elegantly, adorned with small silver pins that glinted like stars. She was radiant, and she exuded the demeanor of someone who had long since mastered the art of public appearances.

Gathering his resolve, Felix reached the bottom of the staircase and made his way toward her. Whispers followed him, but he kept his focus on Yeji, who extended her hand as he approached. “You made it,” She said softly, her smile widening. “I was starting to think you’d hide up there all evening.”

Felix let out a quiet laugh, taking her hand briefly in greeting. “Would you blame me?”

“Maybe a little,” She teased, her tone light as she leaned in slightly. “You look incredible, by the way. Half the room hasn’t stopped staring since you walked in.”

Felix felt his cheeks warm at her words but managed to keep his composure. “Thank you,” He said simply, glancing around the room before turning his attention back to her. “And you look lovely.”

Yeji’s smile softened, her eyes shining with genuine affection. “You’re really too kind, Felix.”

“What about me!” A voice suddenly chimed in, light and playful, cutting through the formal air around them. Felix turned his gaze toward the source of the interruption—a woman standing beside Yeji.

She had sandy blonde hair that fell in soft curls around her shoulders and wore a stunning purple dress embroidered with intricate ruffles that swayed gently as she shifted her weight. Her button nose and pretty doe eyes gave her an almost delicate, youthful appearance, but there was an unmistakable confidence in the way she carried herself.

“Oh, this is my childhood best friend, Irene. Irene Yang,” Yeji introduced with a fond smile, gesturing toward her companion.

Felix inclined his head politely, offering a small smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Irene.”

Irene’s lips curved into a bright grin, and she extended her hand toward him. “And it’s nice to meet you too, Prince Felix. I’ve heard so much about you already. You’ve been quite the topic of conversation these past few days.”

Felix took Irene’s extended hand. When he did, her grip was surprisingly firm—too firm, as if she were trying to snap his wrist off. He winced inwardly, his gaze flickering down to meet hers, only to find her smiling brightly, an innocent picture of charm and warmth.

“It’s really…lovely to meet you,” Irene said, her tone lilting and sweet. “I’ve always wondered what kind of person would finally catch Hyun-jin’s attention. I must say, you’re…different.”

Felix’s lips pressed into a tight smile. “Different?”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Irene continued, releasing his hand and brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress. “I mean that in the best way possible. You’re just so…Refreshing, really. Hyun-jin’s previous partners were always so over-the-top.” She chuckled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Felix stiffened slightly, unsure if the comment was meant to be a compliment or a subtle dig. “I’ll take that as a good thing,” He said eventually.

Irene’s smile widened, almost predatory in its sweetness. “Oh, absolutely! I mean, you’re clearly different from what we’re used to seeing around here. It’s admirable how well you’re holding up, considering how overwhelming all of this must be for you.”

Yeji laughed, completely oblivious to the bigger picture. “Irene, don’t scare him. You’re coming on a bit strong.”

“Am I?” Irene tilted her head, her doe eyes wide with feigned innocence. “I just want to make sure he feels welcomed, that’s all. It’s not every day we get someone from the Sunshine Kingdom here, let alone a prince for our Jinnie.”

Felix offered a polite nod. “I appreciate the warm welcome.”

“Of course,” Irene said, her tone syrupy. “After all, we’ll be seeing so much of each other from now on. I’m sure we’ll become the best of friends.”

“I hope so too,” Felix forced another smile. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about Irene’s demeanor made his skin prickle. There was a subtle edge to her words, a backhanded undertone that seemed to linger in the air even as she smiled. He didn’t want to believe that though, so he gave her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was just really excited and supportive, and he was overthinking like he always does.

“Dare I say, you look really good in that necklace,” Irene said next, extending her fan and peering over it with curious eyes at him. “I feel like I’ve seen it before though, right, Yeji? Isn’t that Hy—“

Suddenly, another wave of silence washed over the room, cutting Irene off mid-sentence. The low hum of conversation and clinking glasses ceased entirely, leaving an almost eerie stillness in its place. Felix turned, following everyone’s line of sight, and immediately understood the reason.

At the grand entrance to the banquet hall stood Hyun-jin, his parents standing on either side of him. The King and Queen exuded high authority as always, their presence attention-grabbing without even needing to speak. The kind flashed a bright smile to everyone, and the Queen’s graceful demeanor accentuated that kindness. And Hyun-jin—he was breathtaking. He was dressed in a similar black suit embroidered with silver accents. His long hair was styled down with the ends fanned slightly, framing his handsome features in a way that seemed almost otherworldly.

When his gaze finally landed squarely on Felix, Felix felt his breath hitch. For a brief moment, Hyun-jin’s eyes seemed to soften, the intensity melting into something warmer, something almost fond. But it was so fleeting that Felix convinced himself he must have imagined it. By the time he blinked, Hyun-jin’s expression had already returned to its usual regal composure, his jaw set, his lips a neutral line.

Felix straightened slightly, unsure why his chest felt tight under that gaze, but he quickly looked away, hoping the faint heat rising to his cheeks wouldn’t be noticed. As one, the entire room fell into a bow. Felix followed suit, lowering his head but stealing a glance upward.

“Rise,” the King’s voice commanded, the single word echoing through the hall.

Slowly, the crowd straightened, though the tension in the air remained thick. Felix’s eyes flickered back to Hyun-jin, who was now descending the stairs with his parents. The King and Queen greeted guests with subtle nods and small smiles, but Hyun-jin’s focus remained fixed on Felix, his expression unreadable.

Beside him, Yeji gave Felix a gentle nudge, her voice low. “He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

Irene, on the other hand, had gone completely silent, her earlier confidence seemingly drained. She folded her fan with a sharp snap and stepped back, her expression neutral but her eyes simmering with something Felix couldn’t quite place—something between frustration and determination.

It wasn’t hard to guess that Hyun-jin’s presence alone had shifted the dynamics of the room, but what came next made Felix’s brows furrow slightly. As soon as Hyun-jin reached the base of the stairs, Irene suddenly darted forward. Her movements were quick and purposeful as she closed the gap between them and threw her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug. “Hyun-jin!” She exclaimed, her voice full of exaggerated warmth. “It’s been too long!”

Hyun-jin stiffened for a fraction of a second before carefully returning the hug with a single arm, his expression calm but his eyes betraying a flicker of annoyance. “I’ve been busy,” He replied simply, his tone polite but distant. “I assume you’re feeling better?”

Irene pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on his arms as she looked up at him with an almost possessive glint in her eyes. “Of course, I was just in…shock, reminiscing on old times. And you know, the banquet feels brighter with you here.”

Felix’s jaw clenched involuntarily, his stomach twisting in a way that left him uneasy. There was no reason for him to feel that way—or even be bitter—when he barely knew Hyun-jin. Yet, watching Irene throw herself at him with such boldness made something uncomfortable stir within him. It wasn’t jealousy, at least not entirely. Maybe it was irritation—irritation at how Irene seemed to disregard his presence entirely, like he was just a placeholder for a role she would’ve rather taken herself. Then again, they’ve known each other for years. They were childhood friends, and he was just…someone.

Felix stayed rooted where he was, forcing himself to appear calm and unaffected, even as his thoughts raced. It wasn’t his place to be upset. He had no claim on Hyun-jin’s heart, and didn’t necessarily have the goal to. And yet, as Hyun-jin’s gaze finally shifted back to him, Felix couldn’t help but feel the weight of something unresolved in the air between them. Something that left him wishing, against all logic, that he didn’t have to share Hyun-jin’s attention with anyone else.

“It’s good to see you too, Irene. But if you’ll excuse me, I should greet my fiancé.” Hyun-Jin pulled away from her.

Irene’s smile faltered slightly, but she quickly masked it, moving aside with an exaggerated laugh. “Of course, don’t let me keep you.” But the way her eyes lingered on Felix as Hyun-jin walked past her spoke volumes.

He was now focused entirely on him, and Felix couldn’t help but feel a little breathless under the weight of his gaze. The closer he got, the more Felix’s nerves bubbled, though he kept his expression neutral, unwilling to let the complicated feelings swirling inside him show. “Felix,” Hyun-jin greeted, his voice lower and more intimate than Felix expected. There was an almost imperceptible curve to his lips, not quite a smile, but something warmer than his usual stoicism. He stopped in front of him, his gaze sweeping over Felix in a way that felt strangely reverent, taking in the white suit, the styled hair, and finally, the golden necklace that rested against his collarbone.

Hyun-jin’s eyes lingered there, his expression softening further. “I see the maids followed my instructions,” He said, his tone quieter, almost private as if this moment were just between the two of them. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against the rose charm on the necklace. “It looks perfect on you.”

Felix blinked, startled. “Your instructions?” he asked, his voice hesitant.

Hyun-jin nodded, his fingers retreating after the brief touch. “This necklace is a family heirloom, or more specifically, mine.” He explained, his voice calm but edged with something meaningful. “I requested they place it on you for tonight.”

Felix’s hand instinctively rose to touch the charm, his fingers brushing against the cool metal. His heart gave an odd flutter, and he swallowed hard. “You didn’t have to…”

Hyun-jin nodded again. “But I wanted to. I thought it would suit you, and I was right.”

Felix didn’t know how to respond. Something about the gesture—intimate and far more personal than he’d expected—left him momentarily speechless. “Thank you,” He finally managed, his voice soft.

“You’re welcome,” Hyun-jin replied, his eyes holding Felix’s for a moment longer before he stepped back slightly, giving Felix a bit more space. “You look…incredible tonight,” He added, his voice dipping lower, the words filled with an undeniable sincerity.

Felix’s cheeks warmed, and for the first time that evening, a genuine smile touched his lips, fleeting but there. “You as well,” He murmured, though his gaze didn’t linger on Hyun-jin for long, afraid the prince might catch the faint spark of admiration in his eyes like he does everything else.

Chapter Text

Hyun-jin cranes his head slightly, his expression softening in a way that seemed almost uncharacteristic for someone seemingly so composed. Always. “You’re too modest,” He says, his voice quieter now, carrying a warmth that sends a flicker of shock through Felix. “Though I suppose that’s part of your charm.”

Felix glances away again, fumbling with the hem of his sleeves to steady himself. The weight of Hyun-jin’s attention is disarming, almost, and completely different from the cold decorum he braced himself for upon their first meeting. In fact, he expected him not to bother with him much during the banquet, and instead go off with his friends, but he didn’t. And that was another thing he didn’t expect—Hyun-Jin choosing to go straight to greeting him, giving him his full attention, and wanting to spend the night with him.

“I wouldn’t call it modesty,” Felix replies after a moment. “I’m just not used to this kind of attention.”

“Whatever you say,” Hyun-jin hums, an amused yet thoughtful sound. “You know, everyone here is watching us tonight, waiting to judge if this union will bring prosperity or chaos.”

Felix’s smile fades slightly as his brows furrow. “…Does that bother you?”

“Not anymore. I’ve learned how to navigate their expectations. But you’re a different case being from our opposing kingdom. They’ll scrutinize you more because of it, and I apologize.”

Felix meets his eyes briefly before looking down, again, suddenly feeling the weight of the room’s eyes despite not being able to see them. “That’s alright. I’m used to it with the unpleasant rumors I have circulating around me.”

Hyun-jin’s jaw tightens briefly at the mention, and he looks like he wants to say something but holds back. Instead, he extends his hand, palm up, an invitation rather than a demand. “Then let’s give them something else to talk about. Walk with me.”

Felix glances up at him, wide-eyed, his breath catching in his throat. The offer is simple, but the implication behind Hyun-jin’s words feels heavier than expected. It’s not just an invitation to walk; it feels like a promise, an assurance that Felix won’t face this evening—or this engagement and its spectators—alone. He looks at Hyun-jin’s outstretched hand, then back at his face. Felix hesitates for only a moment before he places his hand in the Prince’s. Hyun-jin’s fingers close around his, warm and firm, and Felix feels an odd sense of security settle over him.

The buzz of the room fades into the background as Hyun-jin gently tugs him forward, guiding him through the banquet hall. Behind them, he hears Yeji teasingly say something about Hyun-Jin stealing him away, and then Irene about how his attitude is “new”, as she peers over her fan with narrowed eyes.

As they begin to walk through the hall, the whispers and curious gazes of the crowd seem to follow their every move. Felix keeps his eyes forward, focusing on matching Hyun-jin’s pace and the feeling of his hand in his. Just as he starts to feel the tension in his chest ease, a sudden, small weight latches onto his leg, nearly throwing him off balance. Startled, Felix looked down to see a little girl clinging to him with all her might. Her tiny hands grip the fabric of his suit as she tilts her head back to peer up at him with wide, green eyes. She has brown hair, and freckled, tan skin that makes her stand out from the pale-toned aristocrats of the north—clear she wasn’t in cold weather often.

“You look like my puppy!” She declares with a toothy grin, her voice loud and unapologetically cheerful.

Felix blinks, momentarily caught off guard, before a soft laugh escapes him. He crouches down to her level, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, do I now?”

The girl nods enthusiastically, her curls bouncing with the movement. “Yep! My puppy is golden and cute, just like you!” She points at his blonde hair.

Hyun-jin lets out a chuckle beside him, crossing his arms as he watches the scene unfold. “And where is your brother, Anayia?”

The little girl places a finger on her lips, her tiny eyebrows knitting together as if she’s deep in thought. “Uhhhhh,” She drags out, clearly unsure. “I don’t know. He was just with me, but I—”

“Anayia!”

A similar-looking boy’s voice cuts through the air, slightly breathless and exasperated. He rushes over, looking apologetic as he approaches Felix and Hyun-jin. “I’m so sorry about her, Jin,” He says quickly, his face tinged pink with embarrassment. He reaches out to grab Anayia’s hand, but she dodges past him with a surprising burst of energy and latches herself back onto Felix’s leg.

“No! I wanna stay with Goldie and cousin!” She cries, her small arms wrapping tightly around Felix as she hides her face against his leg.

Felix blinks, his cheeks warming again as he looks down at the child clinging to him. “Goldie?” He repeats, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned.

Anai sighs, running a hand through his hair. “She’s been obsessed with calling people nicknames lately. I’ll get her off you—Anayia, come on!”

But the little girl only tightens her hold, looking up at Felix with wide, pleading eyes. “Goldie, don’t let him take me!”

With a soft sigh, Felix bends down and carefully picks Anayia up, resting her on his hip. She clings to him happily, her small arms circling his neck as if she’s found her new favorite person. “I—uh, it’s okay. She’s fine,” He says awkwardly, giving the older boy a reassuring look. “She can stay with us—if your parents are okay with that…You mentioned you’re Hyun-Jin’s cousins, right?”

The boy straightens and nods quickly, his expression smoothing out as he offers a polite smile. “Ah, yes. I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.” He gestures toward himself before glancing at Anayia. “We’re related to Hyun-Jin—second cousins—but we live in the east. My name’s Anai, and that’s my little sister, Anayia.”

Felix nods, glancing at Hyun-jin, who watches the interaction with a faint smirk. “It’s nice to meet you both,” Felix says, adjusting his hold on Anayia as she giggles softly against his shoulder. “She’s… quite energetic.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Anai mutters under his breath, earning a chuckle from Hyun-jin. “But yes, I’m sure my parents won’t mind if she stays with you both. You’re…Hyun-Jin’s new partner, right?”

Felix’s gaze drops to Anayia as she fiddles with the collar of his suit. “Yes, I am,” He answers softly. “I’m Lee Felix.”

“I know,” Anai nods, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he’s suppressing a grin. “Well, good luck with her. She’s a handful. If you need me or my parents to take her back, we’ll be with the king and Queen.” He waves briefly before walking off to rejoin the crowd.

Once they’re alone again, Anayia tugs on Felix’s lapel, her big, curious eyes locking onto his. “Goldie, can we get food now? I’m super hungry!”

Felix looks over at Hyun-jin, who shrugs, clearly content to follow Anayia’s whims for the moment. “I suppose we could get something to eat,” Felix says, adjusting Anayia on his hip before turning toward the banquet tables. “What do you feel like eating?”

“Anything sweet like dessert!” She exclaims excitedly, her tiny hands clapping together.

“Ah,” Felix trails off. “I think you should eat something healthier first. Is that fine?”

Anayia frowns, her little pout almost comical, though she nods begrudgingly. “It is, but dessert is surely better!”

Felix smiles warmly. “I agree, but still. Let’s see what they have for you.” He steps forward, but before they can begin walking, Hyun-jin gently stops him with a hand on his arm. “Is something wrong?” Felix asks, tilting his head with a confused, yet curious look.

“Not at all,” Hyun-jin shakes his head, his expression unreadable as he raises his hand, palm outstretched, and - knowingly by now - Felix takes it.

Felix glances at him with one eyebrow raised, taking in the content smile on his plump lips, and the small pipe to his step. Then, he says, “You’re enjoying this way too much. Aren’t you?”

And that makes Hyun-jin pause. Something shifts in his gaze, like realization dawning on him. Felix is right. Never had he enjoyed a banquet this much, let alone with any engagement partner he’d had before. And yet, as he watches Felix balance Anayia on his hip, her laughter ringing in the air, Hyun-jin can’t bring himself to hate the fact. Instead, he smiles faintly and laces his fingers with Felix’s, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Maybe I am,”

They reach the banquet tables, a long stretch of delicacies arranged in intricate displays. Felix scans the options, helping Anayia decide on a plate filled with small sandwiches, fruits, and some roasted vegetables. When they sit at a small table near the edge of the room, Felix carefully sets Anayia down in a chair, making sure she’s comfortable before placing her plate in front of her.

“Here you go,” Felix says gently. “Eat up, okay?”

Anayia nods enthusiastically and picks up a piece of fruit. But as Felix leans back in his chair, Hyun-jin leans forward, his brows furrowing. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Felix waves it off with a soft laugh. “I’m fine. I’m not too hungry right now.”

Hyun-jin narrows his eyes. He remembers the rushed afternoon—Felix being whisked away to prepare for the banquet, with no chance for a proper lunch. Now it’s well into dinner, and Felix is still not eating. Anayia interrupts his thoughts by holding up a strawberry to Felix’s face, her small fingers sticky with juice. “Goldie, open up! You have to eat too!”

Felix chuckles softly, nervously. “Alright, alright.” He leans forward, letting her feed him the strawberry. Her giggles are infectious as she beams with pride at her success.

“There,” Felix says, smiling. “Happy?”

Anayia nods enthusiastically and reaches for another strawberry, holding it up again. “One more!”

But this time, Felix hesitates. He looks at the strawberry, big and red, probably sweet and just as delicious as the one he just ate—but he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want to eat. But he doesn’t really have a choice to refuse when Hyun-Jin is still watching him with those sharp, all-knowing eyes. He eventually lets her feed him another, murmuring a quiet thank you.

But as expected, Hyun-jin isn’t satisfied. His jaw tightens as he watches Felix brush it off as though two strawberries are enough to sustain him after such a long day. “You didn’t have lunch earlier, right?” The Prince points out bluntly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Felix stiffens, his eyes widening slightly. “I—well, yeah. I was busy, but it’s fine.”

“It isn’t,” Hyun-jin counters, his voice firm but not unkind. He gestures toward the table. “Tonight will be a very long night. I don’t want you feeling sick later or having an empty stomach. I can get up and make you a plate.”

Felix’s lips parted in shock. “That’s not necessary—”

“It is,” Hyun-jin interrupts, already rising from his seat. “Stay here.”

Before he can take another step, Felix grabs his arm, his fingers curling gently but firmly around Hyun-jin’s sleeve. “No, it’s fine. I’ll do it myself.”

Hyun-jin pauses, glancing down at Felix’s hand before meeting his eyes. “You’ve already gone without a proper meal all day. Let me help.”

Felix shakes his head, his cheeks coloring. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do that trouble. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” Hyun-jin replies, his voice softening slightly but still firm. “And you’re not causing trouble. You’ve spent the whole day accommodating everyone else’s wishes. Let me take care of this.”

Felix hesitates, his grip on Hyun-jin’s arm loosening. There’s something disarming about the way Hyun-jin looks at him like he genuinely means every word. Eventually, Felix releases him with a small sigh. “Alright,” He murmurs, looking down at his lap. “Thank you. But—can you make it something…light?”

Hyun-jin arches a brow, crossing his arms briefly. “Light? That won’t be fulfilling enough—”

“I’m just…” Felix shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding Hyun-jin’s gaze. “Nervous. I can’t stomach much, so that’s why I haven’t been eating much.”

Hyun-jin’s expression softens, his sharp gaze losing some of its intensity. He studies Felix for a long moment, as though weighing his words carefully. “…Okay,” He finally says, his voice quieter.

His eyes linger on Felix for a second longer before he nods. “I’ll find something suitable. Just stay here with Anayia.”

Felix gives a small, grateful smile, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thank you.”

Without another word, Hyun-jin turns and heads toward the banquet table, leaving Felix alone with Anayia, who immediately pipes up with a bright grin.

“Goldie, Jin really likes you.”

Felix lets out a soft laugh, his cheeks warm. “You think so?”

“Mhm!” She chirps, swinging her legs happily as she bites into her sandwich. “You’re the nicest of all the others! And the prettiest.”

-

A few minutes later, Anayia finishes the last bite of her meal, patting her stomach with a satisfied grin. “That was so good! But—Now we should go to the garden and look at the pretty flowers!”

Felix chuckles softly, brushing crumbs from her dress. “The garden, huh? That sounds nice, but we should wait for Hyun-jin first.”

Anayia points toward the banquet table with a mischievous smile. “Why? He’s busy talking to Binnie.”

Felix glances over, spotting Hyun-jin deep in conversation with a finely dressed man he assumes to be Changbin—out of his usual guard attire. He hesitates. “Still, we shouldn’t just wander off. He might not like that.”

Anayia pouts dramatically, crossing her arms. “But I really, really wanna show you the flowers! It’ll just be quick, Goldie, please? And…I don’t think you really wanna eat food yet.”

Felix pauses, her words catching him off guard. She wasn’t wrong, though he didn’t expect her to notice. With a quiet laugh, he ruffles her hair, trying to mask his relief. “Alright. You win. But just for a few minutes, and we stay close to the entrance. Deal?”

“Deal!” Anayia beams, hopping off her chair and grabbing Felix’s hand eagerly, her small fingers curling around his as she tugs him toward the garden doors. Felix glances back over his shoulder at Hyun-jin, still talking to Changbin, and decides it’s better this way—for now. He lets Anayia lead him out the main hall and down a few hallways, out the grand doors, and into the garden.

The air shifts immediately when they step outside, cooler and fresher, carrying the faint scent of blooming jasmine and roses. The garden is enchanting, like something out of a dream. A large pond stretches across the center, its surface smooth as glass, reflecting the tiny golden fireflies that flit around its edges. Hanging lights, delicate and warm, are strung between the tall trees, casting a soft glow that illuminates the cobblestone paths winding through the garden.

Plants of every kind border the paths, from towering hydrangeas to clusters of smaller, glowing flowers that seem to shimmer faintly in the dim light. Their ethereal glow bathes the garden in hues of pale blue and soft pink, as if the stars themselves had descended to rest among the petals. The trees are alive with movement—and somewhere near the edge of the garden, the gentle trickle of a fountain can be heard, blending harmoniously with the distant chirp of crickets.

Felix slows his steps, awestruck, his gaze taking in the beauty around him. Anayia doesn’t seem to notice his moment of wonder, already pulling him toward the pond. “Come look! The flowers here light up at night!” She says excitedly, pointing to a cluster of glowing blossoms near the water’s edge.

Felix smiles softly, letting her enthusiasm pull him along. “This place is incredible,”

Anayia stops near a patch of wildflowers glowing faintly under the hanging lights, clapping her hands together. “Goldie! Let’s make flower crowns!”

Felix chuckles softly, crouching down beside her. “Flower crowns, huh? That sounds fun.”

“Yup! I’ll make one for you, and you can make one for…” She trails off, giving him a mischievous grin. “Prince Hyun-jin! You have to make one for him!”

Felix freezes for a moment, his cheeks warming. “For Hyun-jin?”

“Of course! You’re his lover, aren’t you? It’s romantic!” Anayia chirps, already gathering a handful of small blooms.

Felix hesitates, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve. “I don’t know if he’d even want something like that…”

“Trust me, he’ll love it!” Anayia insists, dropping her flowers into her lap and looking up at him expectantly. “Come on, Goldie! Pleeeease?”

With a reluctant laugh, Felix gives in. “Okay. But if he doesn’t like it, it’s on you.”

Anayia beams triumphantly, and Felix gets to work, carefully searching through the garden for flowers that match Hyun-jin’s persona. He selects sleek, dark blooms with silver accents to reflect his sharp yet elegant demeanor—black dahlias, silver-edged anemones, and delicate white blossoms to soften the overall look.

As he weaves the flowers together, Felix’s thoughts drift to Hyun-jin. He focuses on the color scheme, ensuring it complements the prince’s striking features and his suit from earlier. The act of crafting feels oddly calming, the stress of the evening fading with each delicate twist of stems and petals. When he finishes, Felix holds up the flower crown, inspecting it under the warm glow of the garden lights. It’s subtle yet beautiful, just like Hyun-jin himself.

“Well?” He asks Anayia, who’s still busy with her own crown.

“It’s perfect!” She declares, her eyes sparkling as she looks at it. “He’s gonna love it!”

“Who’s gonna love what?”

The smooth, familiar voice catches Felix completely off guard. His hands freeze midair, still holding the finished flower crown, as he turns to see Hyun-jin standing just a few steps away, his head tilted slightly in curiosity. The soft glow of the garden lights reflects in his dark eyes, making his gaze seem even more piercing.

Felix stammers, scrambling to hide the crown behind his back. “Nothing! I mean—”

Anayia, ever the opportunist, beams up at Hyun-jin and points at Felix. “Goldie made you a flower crown! Isn’t it pretty?”

Felix groans inwardly, his cheeks flushing as he glares lightly at the little girl. “Anayia…”

Hyun-jin’s eyebrows raise slightly, and a small, amused smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You made me a flower crown?”

“She wanted me to do it,” Felix mutters quickly, avoiding his gaze.

“Did she now?” Hyun-jin steps closer, his eyes scanning the crown peeking out from behind Felix’s back. “Let me see it.”

Felix hesitates, gripping the delicate arrangement tightly for a moment before reluctantly holding it out. “It’s…nothing fancy,” He says, his voice soft. “I just thought…it might suit you.”

Hyun-jin takes the flower crown gently, his smile widening as he inspects the thoughtful arrangement of dark and light blooms. “Nothing fancy?” He echoes, glancing at Felix. “You put a lot of effort into this. It’s beautiful—a nice gift considering you both left me,” He says, his voice tinged with mock indignation as he adjusts the crown on his head.

Felix startles, his eyes widening. “We didn’t— I mean, it wasn’t intentional—”

Anayia sticks her tongue out at him. “You found us, didn’t you? And now you have a pretty crown, so you can’t be mad!”

Hyun-jin chuckles, shaking his head as he looks back at Felix. “She has a point,” He admits, his tone softening. “But you still owe me for abandoning me back there.”

Felix shifts awkwardly, unable to meet Hyun-jin’s gaze. “I promise I didn’t mean to… Anayia wanted to see the flowers, and I thought—”

“I’m teasing, Prince Felix,” Hyun-jin interrupts gently, his lips curving into a small smile. “I’m not upset. In fact…” He tilts his head slightly, looking at Felix with an unreadable expression. “I think this was the best part of the night so far.”

-

When it got later into the day, Felix, unfortunately, had to part with Anayia, as her parents came to collect her. “Bye, Goldie!” She yelled cheerfully, waving her little hand as her mother scooped her up and carried her away.

Felix stood there for a moment, brushing invisible wrinkles from his suit, his cheeks still tinged pink. “Goldie,” He echoed under his breath, shaking his head with a soft laugh. It sounded almost ridiculous like she was calling him a goldfish. And yet, he didn’t mind. It was also unfortunate, however, that parting with her meant he had no excuse left to escape what came next. He found himself seated back at the banquet table, facing Hyun-jin, who seemed determined to watch him closely as he ate until he was satisfied.

Hyun-jin leans back in his chair, arms crossed as he studies Felix with a calm, unwavering gaze. “You haven’t eaten nearly enough tonight,” He states matter-of-factly, pushing a small plate toward Felix.

Felix sighs, glancing at the plate filled with light foods Hyun-jin had personally chosen earlier—vegetables, pasta, and some type of medley he couldn’t recognize. “I really don’t need—”

“Yes, you do,” Hyun-jin interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’ve been running on nerves all day, and it’s not healthy. Just a little more, please?”

Felix pokes at a piece of broccoli with his fork. “You’re awfully persistent,” He mutters, though there’s no bite in his tone.

Hyun-jin smirks. “I prefer to think of it as being attentive. Now, eat.”

Felix huffs but takes a small bite, unable to ignore the way Hyun-jin’s eyes soften just slightly when he does. “Happy?”

“Getting there,” Hyun-jin replies, leaning forward with a knowing look. “You’ll thank me later.”

As Felix cautiously at the food Hyun-jin insists he finishes, the sound of determined heels echoes against the floor. Irene approaches with her ever-dazzling smile, her eyes alight as she hones in on the two of them. “There you are!” She exclaims dramatically, her hands fluttering in mock relief. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you two.”

Hyun-jin glances at her briefly, clearly unimpressed. “I wasn’t aware we were hiding.”

Ignoring the edge in his tone, Irene turns her full attention to Felix, reaching out to grab his arm in an eager grip. “Felix, you simply must come with me. My friends have been dying to meet you, and I’ve told them so much about you already.” She tilts her head toward Hyun-jin, flashing him an overly sweet smile. “You don’t mind, do you, Hyun-jin? Just for a little while.”

Felix hesitates, glancing toward Hyun-jin for direction. He feels the weight of the prince’s gaze, sharp and assessing, before Hyun-jin leans back in his chair, his expression guarded. “I do mind,” Hyun-jin says. “Felix is my partner for the evening.”

Irene doesn’t miss a beat, her grip tightening slightly on Felix’s arm. “Oh, it won’t take long! He’ll be back before you know it. Besides, you’ve oddly had him to yourself all night.”

Hyun-jin’s eyes narrow almost imperceptibly as he leans forward, his voice dropping just slightly. “And I intend to keep it that way. Perhaps another time.”

The tension between them is clear, and Felix, still unsure how to navigate the situation, offers a nervous chuckle. She is overstepping slightly—tugging on his arm, digging her acrylics into his skin. But, it’s also a good excuse to leave and not be watched eating. “Well…she is…partially correct. I think it would be good to meet others, so I’m well acquainted with everyone I’ll soon be around.” He shifts slightly, glancing at Hyun-jin as though seeking permission.

Hyun-jin’s jaw tightens, his displeasure evident despite his composed exterior. For a moment, it seems as though he might argue, told by the furrow to his eyebrows and the displeased frown on his lips—but he simply nods. “I guess…I understand. Do as you please.”

Irene beams triumphantly, tugging Felix along before he can second-guess his choice. “Wonderful! You’ll love my friends—they’re so excited to meet you!”

As Felix is whisked away, he can’t help but glance back over his shoulder. Hyun-jin remains seated, his intense gaze following them, the glint in his eyes unreadable. Irene leads Felix to a table near the edge of the room, where three women are seated, each adorned with ornate crowns that glitter under the soft glow of the banquet hall lights. Felix assumes they must be princesses from neighboring kingdoms, though their animated chatter quiets as Irene approaches with him in tow.

“Ladies, look who I brought!” Irene announces with a flourish, her grip still firm on Felix’s arm as though he might try to escape.

The women turn their gazes toward him, each appraising him in their own way. The blonde-haired princess, with a golden tiara perched perfectly atop her cascading curls, smiles warmly but with a hint of curiosity in her eyes. Beside her, a brunette with chestnut locks twisted into an elegant updo rests her chin on her hand, her expression void of anything—like a blank slate. Finally, the pink-haired princess, whose vibrant waves fall loosely over her shoulders, regards him with a playful smirk, as if already amused by his mere presence.

“Felix,” Irene continues, pulling out a chair for him with a dramatic flourish, “Meet my friends Princess Celeste, Princess Vivienne, and Princess Lyra.”

The three women incline their heads slightly in acknowledgment, their jeweled crowns catching the light as they move. Felix sits carefully, feeling their collective attention settle on him like a mantle. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” He says, his voice soft but polite, as he offers a small nod to each of them.

“The pleasure’s ours,” Celeste, the blonde, says with a graceful smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Quite a lot,” Vivienne, the brunette, adds, her tone laced with something similar to how Irene speaks to him—something he can’t quite place. Her gaze sweeps over him, lingering for a moment too long.

“Mostly good things, don’t worry,” Lyra chimes in with a teasing grin. “Though Irene might have exaggerated a bit—she does have a flair for the dramatic.”

Irene gasps, feigning offense. “I do not exaggerate! Felix here is quite the talk of the evening, isn’t he?” She pats Felix’s shoulder with a little too much force, making him wince awkwardly.

“So,” Viviennie starts. “The prince’s scent. Do you know what it is?”

“Ah,” Felix blinks. “Well…” He’d been so busy with trying to adjust and survive here, that he hadn’t taken in the importance of being around a new alpha. Now that Vivienne had brought it up, though, a faint memory surfaces. There had been something fresh and alluring, subtle yet undeniably present, lingering in Hyun-Jin’s quarters. It reminded him of milk chocolate intertwined with the crisp tang of tangerines. But Felix also knew the rules—strict protocols dictated that royals conceal their scents in public. Scent blockers and suppressants ensured decorum and prevented their natural scents, considered intimate and revealing, from drifting into the air. For a royal to let their scent linger freely was scandalous, a breach of etiquette that could stir endless gossip.

Felix forces a smile. “No, I didn’t,” He finally answers, carefully neutral. “It’s not something I’ve had the chance to notice.”

Vivienne hums, tilting her head as if weighing his response. “That’s surprising. Alphas are usually so particular about ensuring their betas—or omegas—are comfortable. You’d think he’d at least let you catch a hint of it.”

“They’ve only been together a week now,” Irene interjects smoothly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her tone is light, but there’s a faint edge to it. “That’s not nearly enough time for Felix to notice much. You have to spend more time with someone to understand them.”

Vivienne’s lips curl in a small smile, clearly entertained by Irene’s attempt to assert herself. “A week is still plenty of time for some first impressions, isn’t it? Felix, what do you think?”

Felix shifts uncomfortably in his seat, unsure how to respond without stepping into a potential trap. “Well, I think we’re still…getting to know each other,” he says cautiously.

Irene beams as if Felix’s answer validates her point. “Exactly. Hyun-Jin is very private, even around people he trusts. I’ve known him for years, and it took quite some time for me to get a sense of his personality. He’s not one to open up easily.”

“Years, you say?” Celeste, the blonde, raises an eyebrow. “How close are you to him, Irene? I never heard about that.”

“Oh, quite close. It must’ve slipped my mind.” Irene replies, her voice laced with pride. “I’ve attended many of his family’s gatherings and spent time with him during several diplomatic events. He’s always been…particular about the company he keeps.”

The pink-haired princess, Lyra, chimes in, her tone teasing. “Are you saying you’re one of the few who’s managed to stay in his good graces?”

Irene laughs lightly, waving a hand. “Well, I wouldn’t say that exactly, but he does seem to trust me because I’m his childhood best friend. He even asked me for advice once about how to handle certain situations.”

Felix’s brow furrows ever so slightly. It’s not that he doubts Irene’s words, but the way she speaks feels almost as if she’s deliberately trying to establish some form of superiority.

“That’s quite admirable, Irene. But Hyun-Jin’s fiancée might have insights none of us could ever hope to understand.” Celeste says.

Felix blinks in surprise, not expecting her to come to his defense. Irene’s smile falters for a split second before she recovers. “Oh, of course. Felix will have plenty of time to get to know him better. After all, they’ll be spending the rest of their lives together. Hopefully.”

The way Irene says it feels more like a bitter challenge than encouragement, but Felix decides to let it slide. “I’m sure I will. It’s still early, but I’m…looking forward to learning more about him.”

Vivienne leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying the tension in the conversation. “It sounds like you’re in for quite the journey, Felix. I’m sure we’ll all be watching with great interest. I’ll cheer you on.”

Felix offers a faint smile, unsure how to respond. Thankfully, a soft but confident voice interrupts from behind him.

“There you are, Felix.”

He turns to see Yeji, standing tall with elegant grace. Her smile is polite, though there’s a clear note of urgency in her tone. “Our family is preparing to depart—it’s getting close to midnight. Hyun-Jin and my parents are waiting.”

Felix’s eyes widen, momentarily startled by how much time has passed. “Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late,” He murmurs, standing. “I apologize,”

“You’re alright,” Yeji assures, her gaze flickering briefly to the table of princesses, who watch the interaction with varying degrees of interest. “I’m sorry to interrupt, ladies, but I’ll need to borrow him now.”

Vivienne smirks. “Of course. Don’t let us keep him from his duties.”

Irene’s smile tightens as she rises from her chair. “It was lovely to talk, Felix. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon. Bye Yeji.”

Felix inclines his head, offering a faint smile in return. “It was nice meeting you all.”

As Yeji leads him away from the table, her voice lowers to a gentle murmur meant just for him. “You handled that well. They’re not exactly the friendliest crowd, are they?”

Felix chuckles nervously. “They were…interesting, to say the least.”

Yeji glances at him knowingly. “Don’t let them get under your skin. I don’t know why Irene has friends like them—They thrive on trying to rattle people. I always tell her she’s too sweet to hang out with them, but she never listens.”

Sweet. Irene really must have fooled Yeji, Felix thinks, because she’s not that much different.

They make their way toward the grand entrance, where Hyun-Jin stands beside his parents. “About time,” Hyun-Jin remarks, his tone light but laced with amusement. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me for a table of gossiping royals.”

Felix chuckles. “Not quite.”

Hyun-Jin gestures toward the exit. “Shall we?”

Felix nods, glancing back briefly toward the ballroom before following Hyun-Jin and his family out into the cool night air. Felix finds himself guided toward a smaller, private one set aside just for him and Hyun-Jin. The prince gestures for him to step inside first, following closely behind and settling across from him on the cushioned bench. The ride begins smoothly, the rhythmic clatter of hooves filling the silence as they move through the palace grounds.

Hyun-Jin leans back, his gaze fixed on Felix with a curious tilt of his head. “So,” He begins, breaking the quiet, “How did you find the banquet? Was it to your liking?”

Felix blinks, taken slightly off guard by the question. “It was…grander than anything I’ve ever experienced. It was fun.”

Hyun-Jin laughs softly. “I could tell. You held your own well, though. It’s not easy being surrounded by people who like to dig for weaknesses.”

Felix shifts uncomfortably, his hands clasped in his lap. “I’m just glad that part of it is over, honestly.” He says, but deep down he knows that won’t be the end of the scrutiny he’ll experience going forward.

A pause lingers before Hyun-Jin’s tone turns serious, though not unkind. “And did you really eat enough? You barely touched your plate earlier, and when you did—you were whisked away. Twice.”

Felix falters, avoiding his gaze. “I ate enough,” He lies, though the faint grumble of his stomach from earlier still lingers in his memory. He doesn’t even have it in him to throw up tonight, knowing he needs that little bit of energy he has left.

Hyun-Jin raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t press further. Instead, he leans back with a sigh, crossing one leg over the other. “You’ll get used to it all eventually—the banquets, the attention, the expectations. But if you ever need a moment to breathe, just tell me. And tonight, if you do happen to still be hungry, don’t hesitate to call up a maid. They’re always up.”

Felix glances up, startled by the unexpected offer, but he only nods.

The ride continues in a comfortable quiet, save for the soft creak of the carriage wheels. Felix’s exhaustion from the evening gradually catches up to him. He tries to sit upright, but his eyelids grow heavier with each passing moment. Before long, his head begins to nod forward slightly, his body swaying with the motion of the carriage. Hyun-Jin notices immediately, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Without a word, he moves from his seat across to sit beside Felix, his presence steady and close. Gently, he tilts Felix’s head, letting it rest on his shoulder. Felix stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, his body instinctively leaning into Hyun-Jin’s warmth.

As they near the end of their journey, the distant outline of the palace comes into view, its grand silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns. Hyun-Jin doesn’t stir Felix, content to let him rest for as long as possible. The moonlight filtering through the small carriage window casts a faint glow over them, catching on the strands of Felix’s golden hair. He reaches out, carefully, then brushes a bang from Felix’s face with a tenderness that surprises even himself. Eventually, the carriage slows to a halt at the grand entrance of the royal wing. A servant approaches, ready to open the door, but he raises a hand to stop them. Instead, he carefully adjusts Felix, lifting him into his arms with surprising ease.

As he does so, Felix’s lips part to murmur something incomprehensible, but he doesn’t wake fully. Hyun-Jin steps out of the carriage, carrying him through the entrance of the castle. All the while, he ignores the surprised, curious stares of his parents and a few guards. The faint click of his boots against the marble floor is the only sound, echoing softly in the vast space. As he reaches Felix’s now-fixed chambers, he pauses briefly at the door. A servant opens it for him, bowing deeply, but he pays them little mind. He steps inside, laying Felix gently on the bed.

Hyun-Jin’s jaw tightens as he studies him—his delicate features, the soft rise and fall of his chest, the faint flush still lingering on his cheeks from the evening. He had barely exerted any effort carrying him from the carriage to his chambers. For someone Felix’s age, it didn’t feel normal. Felix’s frame felt fragile under his hands, and he was certainly too light. Far too light. He couldn’t help but wonder if Felix was eating enough during the day, especially when he wasn’t necessarily dining with his family and him. The thought unsettles him, though he knows he can’t press too hard—at least not yet. Felix’s stubbornness wouldn’t allow for it, and he was wary of pushing him away.

Wary…of pushing him away?

Hyun-Jin straightens, his gaze lingering on the freckled blonde for a moment longer than necessary. Then, without another word, he adjusts the covers over him and quietly leaves the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him. That was a ridiculous thought—an imposter in his mind.

But…it was true. He’s aware—acutely so—of how different his behavior has been tonight.

Despite being in this position before—Engaged to someone for the sake of politics, for the sake of the crown—Felix was a different case. He’s kind. Resilient. And far too easy to read, even when he tries to hide behind that polite demeanor. Felix’s awkwardness and sincerity stand different from what he has grown used to in his life. Carrying him out of the carriage, making sure he ate, even letting him rest on his shoulder…those aren’t things he would have done for anyone else, and that made it clear he cared for him. 

Chapter Text

There's something wrong.

That's the first thing Felix realizes when he wakes up, rubs his eyes, and runs his short, thin fingers through his tousled hair. His body is unusually warm, yet his skin is tinged in a cold sweat. His stomach is almost completely empty, and it's aching, vibrating like it'll cave in on itself. He's used to hunger, but this feels different—deeper, more urgent, like his insides are hollowing out. Sitting up makes it worse. His head throbs with the motion, and when he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, his vision darkens at the edges, dizziness overwhelming him. He takes a moment to breathe, waiting for the room to stop spinning, gripping the sheets to steady himself.

Then, he notices it.

His scent.

Fresh cream and marshmallow, soft and light, radiates off him in gentle waves—prominent, even though it shouldn't be. It's stronger than usual, not quite overwhelming, but still noticeable. Anyone close enough would pick up on it. Felix lets out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. Of course. This sort of thing comes often to him—his eating habits fucking up his body's scent regulation when it gets bad enough.

The soft creak of the door startles him. A familiar palace maid steps inside—Mei, likely to check on him, but the moment she does, she stops short, eyes widening as she hurriedly covers her mouth. "Prince Felix," Mei whispers, glancing around before taking a cautious step closer. "Did you—did you possibly start your pre-heat? Should I go grab Minho or, or—?"

"No," Felix cuts in quickly, forcing a reassuring smile despite the discomfort crawling under his skin. "I...I'm sorry. I'm not feeling too well, so I can't control it. Could you..." He hesitates, swallowing down the dryness in his throat. "Could you run and grab me some scent blockers? Privately. Please."

Mei blinks, then nods quickly. "Oh—yes! I can do that, and—I'll bring some medicine too, just in case. Would you like your breakfast here as well so you can stay in bed?"

Felix stiffens slightly before shaking his head. He knows if he doesn't show up at breakfast, people will ask questions. They'll take notice, become worried, and eventually figure out something's wrong. The last thing he needs is Hyun-Jin or anyone else hovering over him with concerned, concerned eyes. "I'm...feeling well enough to eat with everyone else," He lies, pushing himself to his feet despite the slight unsteadiness in his legs.

Mei hesitates, concern flickering across her face, but she doesn't argue. "Alright. I'll be back shortly, Your Highness."

As she hurries out of the room, Felix exhales slowly, closing his eyes. He just has to get through today. Hide it, suppress it—he's done it before, and he'll do it again. It's a routine. After several minutes, a knock sounds at the door. Felix braces himself. Mei must have returned with the scent blockers already. That was quick. "Come in," He calls, forcing himself to stand taller, smoothing out the fabric of his sleepwear.

But instead of the maid's familiar presence, the door swings open to reveal someone else entirely—

Calcifer.

The older man steps in slowly, the dim morning light casting deep shadows across his sharp, aging features. He looks the same as always—stern, unreadable, and cruel in a way that doesn't need to be spoken aloud. His presence alone is enough to make the air feel heavier. In his hand, he holds an envelope, his bony fingers curled around the parchment like a predator gripping its prey. Felix swallows down the lump forming in his throat. His scent is still lingering in the air—he can only hope it isn't strong enough for the alpha to pick up on.

"My, my," Calcifer hums, eyes sweeping over him like he's inspecting something defective. "You look rather unwell this morning, Your Highness. Did the banquet wear you out so easily?"

Felix fixes his expression, ignoring the way his chest tightens. "I'm fine," He says.

Calcifer tilts his head. "Are you sure you don't need to call the doctor?"

Felix ignores his question. "Did you need something?"

Calcifer lifts the envelope between two fingers. "A letter," He says, almost lazily. "Addressed to you—or at least, I assume it was. It had no name, you see. Unfortunately, in my dedication to ensure things are properly handled, I happened to open it, believing it to be mine."

Felix's jaw tightens. Of course he did—as if the gold embroidery of the sunshine kingdom wasn't obvious enough on it.

Calcifer steps forward, placing the opened envelope onto a nearby table, his gaze never leaving Felix's. "I thought you'd like to have it, regardless." There's something unreadable in his tone, something that makes Felix's pulse quicken—not with fear, but something colder. His fingers twitch with the urge to grab the letter, to see who it's from, to read what was so important that it was sent with no name. But he doesn't move—not yet. Not with Calcifer still standing there, watching him like a spider waiting for its web to get tangled.

Calcifer's thin lips curl into something that isn't quite a smirk but holds the same sickening amusement. He inclines his head slightly, feigning politeness. "Again I sincerely apologize, please have a good morning...Prince Felix. But please, do fix that repulsiveness going on between you and that letter's sender. I wouldn't want our Hyun-Jin to think you're in an affair."

Felix's breath catches, his whole body going rigid. His eyebrows furrow, and his eyes widen—not in shock, but in anger. "What?"

Calcifer merely chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as if amused by Felix's reaction. "I'll see myself out." He grins, his eyes glinting with something Felix can't quite name—satisfaction, excitement, or something far more sinister. He turns on his heel, making his way toward the door with the same slow, deliberate steps he entered with. Felix's hands tremble slightly at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as the door clicks shut behind Calcifer. His heart pounds, heat simmering beneath his skin—not from his fever or his scent leaking into the air, but from sheer, unfiltered frustration. His gaze snaps to the letter lying on the table.

Repulsiveness.

Affair.

Felix barely waits a second before snatching the envelope from the table, his breath shallow as he turns it over in his hands. The seal is already broken, the parchment slightly creased from being handled by someone who had no right to read it first. He forces himself to unfold it, his eyes scanning the words hastily written inside:

{To My dear Cousin

Hello, Lix. I hope this message finds you quickly, and when it does, reply to me at once. You know I don't like being kept waiting. How was your trip to the north? I trust the coachmen transporting you were adequate enough, though I imagine even they pale in comparison to the care I would have given you. I've been hearing rumors, troubling ones, about that crude prince you're set to marry. Hwang Hyun-jin. Even the name leaves a foul taste in my mouth. Tell me, has he mistreated you yet? Or perhaps simply ignored you entirely? Men like him—men who think the world owes them something—will never know how to truly appreciate someone as precious as you.

Fear not, though, I will see you soon once the hunting contest arises. You and I both know this engagement is doomed to fail. They always are, aren't they? But even if, by some cruel twist of fate, it lasts longer than I expect, know this: I will never allow you to be cast aside or forgotten. You deserve far more than what they've offered you. As I write this, I can't help but miss you more. Do you know how unbearable it is, being separated from you? The thought of anyone else holding your attention—holding you—makes my blood boil. I wonder, does that prince even notice the small things about you? The way your bunny teeth look when you smile, or how your hair glows like spun gold under the sun?

You belong here, Lix. With your family, with me. No one else could ever care for you the way I do. You must see that. And if you don't yet, you will. Soon. Write back quickly, won't you? I need to hear from you, to know you're safe. To know you haven't forgotten where you truly are wanted.

Yours, forever, Jiho.}

Felix's fingers tighten around the letter, his knuckles turning white. His breath comes in uneven, shallow gasps as he reads each word, the inked sentences wrapping around his throat like a rope. His stomach churns violently, and his skin prickles with disgust. Jiho's words are inappropriate, giving the exact impression Calcifer mentioned. They slither off the page, sinking into his skin like a poison he can't rid himself of.

Felix barely registers the impact as his knees slam against the floor, his vision swimming in and out of focus. He grips the fabric of his sleeves, squeezing hard to ground himself, but it's useless. The bile rising in his throat burns, and his chest is too tight to breathe properly. Calcifer will tell Hyun-Jin.

He knows he will.

That wretched, smug old man will waste no time whispering poison into Hyun-Jin's ear, twisting things, painting Felix into something he isn't. He'll say he's disloyal. That he's tainted. That he belongs to another man's hands, that his engagement is a fraud, that—

He wants to kill Jiho.

Wants to rip that smug arrogance out of him, tear him apart, and make him suffer for this. He's ruined everything. And now—it's only a matter of time before this engagement ends. And if calcifer happens not to tell Hyun-Jin right away, then it's something he can use against him. The warmth he's been allowed—the kind words, the fleeting moments of comfort—will be gone. Hyun-Jin won't look at him the same way. He won't call his name in that teasing, lighthearted voice, won't soften even slightly in his presence. And Yeji—Yeji, who has been nothing but patient, who has guided him through this unfamiliar kingdom—will think less of him, too. There's no escaping it, certainly, but he has to act normal. He has to—

Felix jolts when another knock at the door comes, and he forces himself upright in an instant. His body protests—his head still spins, his stomach still churns, and his still fingers tremble at his sides—but he morphs his expression into something neutral, something passable.

"Prince Felix?" Mei's voice is soft, concerned. She steps in with a small tray in her hands, the scent blockers neatly placed beside a vial of medicine. "Are you alright?"

Felix clears his throat, smoothing down the front of his shirt as if that will steady the erratic pounding in his chest—a habit he's unable to stop. "Of course," He says, voice light. "Just a little dizzy when I got up, that's all."

Her eyes flicker to the floor for a brief moment, lingering near where he had collapsed, but she says nothing about it. Instead, she moves forward, setting the tray down on the nearby table. "I brought what you asked for. I also included a tonic to help settle any nausea."

"Thank you so much, Mei." Felix reaches for the scent blockers immediately, pretending to inspect them as if they're the only thing on his mind. As if the words from Jiho's letter aren't still clawing at his skull. "I appreciate it."

Mei hesitates, shifting slightly. "...Would you like me to call for anyone?"

Felix shakes his head. "No need," He says, already moving toward the dresser to grab clothes for the bath. "I'll be joining everyone for breakfast soon. You may leave, I don't need help preparing today."

She bows slightly, though there's a flicker of doubt in her gaze before she leaves.

The door clicks shut behind her.

Felix's shoulders drop the moment he's alone again.

He has to join them for breakfast, because calling out sick was—and is—never an option. Not for him. Not in his family. Not in the way he's been taught. Illness was treated as an inconvenience at best and an excuse at worst—a weak ploy to avoid responsibilities. Every time he had fallen ill as a child, his mother's reaction had been the same: cold disbelief, a sharp sigh, and the inevitable accusation that he was pretending to escape his duties. She'd yank him out of the bed and force him to do things that only worsen his condition. Fever or not, he had always been expected to stand tall, to act as though nothing was wrong. To complain was to invite scrutiny, and to rest was to admit failure. Even now, that lingers.

So, he forces himself to move.

After getting ready, Felix joins the others at breakfast, slipping into his seat with a composed expression. The table is lively with conversation, everyone discussing last night's banquet—who wore what, who said what, who danced with whom. He listens, nodding along where necessary, even offering the occasional hum of acknowledgment. It's all a distraction, one he clings to desperately.

All the while, his stomach twists painfully, empty yet unsettled, and despite the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread, marinated meats, and warm, spiced tea, he finds himself unable to eat. He grips his utensils, staring at his plate, willing himself to take a bite. But the mere thought of food makes his throat close up, no matter how much he knows he needs to eat something.

"Felix, did you enjoy yourself at the party?" Yeji asks from across the table, her tone light. "You disappeared for a while. I was beginning to think you and Hyun-Jin snuck off somewhere."

Felix gives a small smile. "I was with Anayia in the garden. She wanted to show me the flowers and make flower crowns."

"Oh, that little troublemaker," The Queen chuckles. "She's quite taken with you, isn't she?"

Felix nods, poking at his food as if he's going to take a bite soon to keep up appearances. He knows he should eat, especially with how weak he feels, but each passing second makes it harder. It's only after taking a sip of cold water that he finally pushes a spoonful of eggs between his lips. The texture is soft, almost dissolving on his tongue, but the moment he swallows, his stomach churns violently in protest. He grips his fork tighter, his fingers trembling slightly, and forces himself to take another bite. He ignores the way his insides feel like they're knotting themselves into something unbearable. Every swallow is a battle but he forces himself to keep going. He has to finish. If he doesn't, someone will notice. Someone will ask, get suspicious, and call him out—as he hasn't been eating much the day he got here.

By the time he reaches the last bite, however, a cold sweat coats his skin. He barely gets it down before his stomach lurches violently, and he pushes back his chair with an unsteady breath. "Excuse me," He murmurs, voice tight, and before anyone can respond, he's already on his feet, walking as quickly as he can without drawing attention. The moment he's out of sight, he breaks into a near sprint down the hall, his breath shuddering as he bursts into the bathroom and barely makes it to the basin before his body betrays him.

When Felix returns to the table, he looks paler than ever. His skin is almost ghostly, his lips pressed into a thin line as he lowers himself back into his seat. The nausea still lingers, his stomach unsettled, but he can't afford to show any weakness.

Yeji is the first to notice. She frowns, her gaze sweeping over him with concern. "Felix, are you alright? You don't look well."

The king glances up from his meal, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Yes, you do look rather unwell. Are you feeling alright?"

Felix forces a small, reassuring smile, though it barely reaches his eyes. "I just woke up a little nauseous," He says, as he can't outright say he "only" went to the restroom—it wasn't believable—and he certainly can't tell them the real reason why. "I needed to splash my face with water, I'm fine now."

"Are you sure?" Yeji frowns further. "It's okay if you don't feel well, you may sleep in and take the time to get better with the help of the maids. My brother will even—-"

Before she can finish, the doors of the dining hall swing open, drawing everyone's attention. A butler steps inside, bowing slightly before addressing the room.

"Apologies for the interruption," he says, his voice smooth and professional. "I have come to inform the Queen that I, along with the other attendants, have finished preparations. We will be sending a maid to deliver the lunches and pastries to the Knights now."

The queen claps. "Perfect. Thank you all."

The butler smiles, bright and friendly. "Of course. Now—"

"—May I help?" Felix interjects quickly, already pushing back his chair. He needs to get out of here—away from the food, the questioning gazes, and most of all, the unbearable weight pressing down on him.

The butler blinks in surprise, as does Yeji. "Of course you may. But...Prince Felix, there is no need for you to do that work l. You should simply leave it to us—"

"I insist," Felix cuts in, standing up before anyone can argue further. "It's for the banquet, right? The knights did a lot for us, and I'd like to personally thank them for their assistance with it. Please, allow me to help. I can deliver them instead."

The butler hesitates, glancing at him before turning his gaze toward the queen. There's a brief pause, the weight of her consideration hanging in the air, before she gives a simple nod. "Very well," She says. "If you wish to take part, then you may."

Felix exhales, relieved. The moment the butler inclines his head in acceptance, he's already moving. Felix is guided to the kitchen, where a two-tier basket filled with neatly arranged finger sandwiches and delicate desserts awaits him. The knights are stationed beyond the training grounds, in the castle courtyard," one of the kitchen attendants informs him. "There's a small building where they retire. It's a bit of a walk, so we can have a coachman drop you off if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary," Felix replies, shaking his head. "I'd prefer to walk."

The attendants exchange glances—confused why a royal would refuse that treatment—but don't argue. Instead, they help him bundle up for the journey. A thick-padded jacket is slid onto his shoulders, and a long, warm scarf is wrapped securely around his neck. He tucks his hands into a pair of gloves, then carefully lifts the basket before stepping out into the cold. The crisp winter air bites at his face the moment he leaves the warmth of the castle behind, but he presses forward, his boots crunching against the frost-covered ground as he makes his way toward the courtyard. The walk is exactly what he needs—something to clear his mind, something to distract him from the emptiness curling in his stomach.

Perhaps, after delivering the basket—he could ask Mei to get him more medicine, and some type of hot soup that could soothe him. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen Hyun-Jin since yesterday. He had been absent from breakfast like always, and though Felix hadn't expected to see him first thing in the morning, that realization sat oddly in his mind. It was clear Hyun-Jin had been the one to carry him to his room last night. Felix could still faintly recall the warmth of his touch—the careful way he had handled him, despite his usual indifference. He hadn't gotten the chance to thank him for it yet.

But...is it important to do that now? Felix thinks as he approaches the building.

Thank him—when he could know the vile knowledge Calcifer does?

What if, when he greets them all, Hyun-Jin is already armed with accusatory words? What if he looks at Felix with disgust, spews insults, and throws venomous accusations in his face? Felix swallows thickly, his grip tightening around the basket's handle. The thought alone is enough to make his stomach churn worse than before. He wants to believe Calcifer wouldn't say anything, that Hyun-Jin wouldn't listen to someone like him—but that hope is fragile, breakable, and foolish. So, maybe it would be best to avoid him altogether.

Or maybe, to confront him and test if he's changed or not, to—

"...Prince Felix?"

Felix jolts at a sudden voice behind him, almost dropping the basket. He turns around to see a younger alpha, with jet black hair, high cheekbones, and crescent-moon eyes that narrow further when he meets them. "I suspected so. That gold hair makes you very obvious to pick out. What are you doing out here? It's not necessarily safe outside the palace. You didn't even hear me walking behind you."

"Ah," Felix chuckles nervously. "I was...spaced out. Who...who are you?"

"Yang Jeong-in. You've...met my older sister Irene, no?"

Felix stiffens slightly at the name, glancing over the features that now seem vaguely familiar. Irene had mentioned her brother before, though he never expected to meet him like this.

Jeong-In's gaze drifts down to the basket in Felix's hands, then back up to his face. "What exactly are you doing out here alone?"

"I'm delivering lunch to the knights," Felix replies, shifting his grip. "It's for their help with the banquet."

Jeong-In exhales, crossing his arms. "That's what servants are for, isn't it? Why would you come in their place?"

Felix bristles at the remark but forces a polite smile. "Because I wanted to. It's not a burden...and I wanted to thank them personally. You're a knight, right?"

Jeong-in smiles, cheeky, and raises his eyebrows. "Hyun-Jin would laugh if he heard you say that. I'm merely a training apprentice." The younger alpha studies him for a long moment, then sighs. "Though—You really don't seem to understand your position here, do you?"

Felix blinks. "Pardon?"

"You're a foreign prince. A delicate, golden thing wandering through the cold with a basket in hand. You're practically inviting trouble."

Felix furrows his eyebrows. "I can handle myself perfectly fine. I have training, and I know how to defend myself well."

Jeong-In snorts. "Right. Because you were so aware of your surroundings just now?" He shakes his head before nodding toward the path ahead. "Come on, I'll walk with you. If anything happens while you're under my watch, they would never let me hear the end of it."

Felix hesitates, but there's little room for argument. With a quiet sigh, he nods, and they continue forward together. Just like Irene, Jeong-In had that same bitter attitude—though it was much nicer to a degree. His words were vulgar and came off insensitive, but beneath them, there was something else. He seemed like a bright person—caring, even, in a way he probably didn't intend to show outright.

The path ahead leads them to a snowy courtyard, blanketed in white, with a well-structured building sitting in the middle. The stone walls stand tall, sturdy, as if shielding whatever lies within from the cold. A warm light glows from the frosted windows, and faint voices echo from inside, a sign of life beyond the heavy wooden door.

Felix's fingers tighten around the basket handle. He stops just a few steps away from the entrance, eyeing the door like it might swing open on its own and force him inside. He knows the knights will appreciate the gesture, but he can't shake the unease within him. How will they react to him? Will they be friendly? Dismissive? Or worse—will they know about the disgusting letter Jiho sent him and believe the false rumors about him?

Jeong-In, already at the door, glances back at him with a raised brow. "What, you're not coming in?"

Felix opens his mouth, then closes it. His heartbeat drums in his ears, and his hands suddenly feel too cold. He shouldn't be hesitating like this, but the idea of stepping inside, of facing them all when his mind is still fogged with sickness and worry—

"Maybe I should leave now," He finally says, holding the basket out. "You should take this instead."

Jeong-In eyes him, then the basket, then him again. There's an amused glint in his sharp gaze, but he doesn't argue. With a shrug, he reaches out. However, at that moment, a snowball suddenly comes hurling at Jeong-In, hitting him square in the face. He falters back with a startled grunt, shaking off the snow that clings to his lashes and collar.

Felix's eyes widened, darting toward the source of the attack—Ji-sung, emerging from behind a nearby tree, breathless and determined. His boots crunch against the snow as he rushes toward them, his face set in a deep frown. Without hesitation, Ji-sung grabs Jeong-In by the arm and yanks him away from Felix, standing between them like a shield. "You better not be harassing him on behalf of your sister!" He scolds, glaring at the slightly taller alpha.

Jeong-In blinks, still half-covered in snow, before he exhales sharply and brushes a hand down his face. "Are you serious?" He flicks stray ice from his sleeve, unimpressed. "I was just taking the basket."

Ji-sung doesn't budge. "Yeah? Well, forgive me if I don't trust that." His grip tightens. "The Prince doesn't need you breathing down his neck."

Felix, still recovering from the sudden commotion, finally finds his voice. "Ji-sung, it's fine," He says, though his words lack any real confidence. He knows Ji-sung means well, but this is quickly spiraling into unnecessary conflict—one that may draw more attention than he wants.

"I'll leave now, so please don't be mad at him," Felix says hastily, taking a small step back. His fingers twitch against his jacket. "I just wanted to deliver some food. I heard you guys helped prepare the banquet—and now you're already back to training."

"Oh, thank you!" Ji-sung turns to him with a warm, bright smile, the tension in his shoulders immediately dissipating. "You're so kind."

"Yes, of course." Felix forces a small smile of his own, then takes another step backward. "Then, I'll be on my way—"

"Leaving? What? Won't you join us, Prince?"

Felix shakes his head, already feeling overwhelmed by the interaction. His heart beats too fast, his body too warm despite the cold pressing against his skin. He just needs to get away. "No, I have...other things to do. I also don't feel that well..."

But before he can turn away, the door to the knights' hall swings open, and his breath catches in his throat.

Hyun-Jin steps outside.

The shift in the atmosphere is immediate. A few heads turn within the building, and soon enough, windows are being pushed open. Curious, eager eyes peek out, watching the scene unfold with barely concealed interest. Among them, Felix spots Chang-bin and Seung-Min, both leaning against the window frame, their expressions amused. Felix curses internally, and suddenly he feels very, very trapped. It's not necessarily in a bad way—everyone here has been so nice to him, but today, just today, he doesn't have the energy to deal with it. All he wants to do is lay in his comfy bed and forget everything around him.

"Felix."

Now, his ears are beginning to ring with a voice that sounds awfully like Hyun-Jin's, but he can't focus on it. His vision is blurring into grey, cloudy tunnels, and—

And soon there is a pair of hands waving before his face, and he looks up clearly, confused, and sees Hyun-Jin standing tall before him. He blinks hard, trying to clear the haze clouding his vision, but it only worsens the dull pounding in his skull. His skin is clammy beneath the layers of his thick-padded jacket, and for a brief moment, he sways.

"Felix." Hyun-Jin's voice is firmer this time, the usual lilt gone. His brows are furrowed, and the way his brown eyes scan over him—slow and assessing—makes Felix's stomach lurch even further. He doesn't need Hyun-Jin of all people staring at him like that. Like he's about to tip over.

Felix forces himself to straighten, clearing his throat. "Ah—I was just leaving."

Hyun-Jin tilts his head, gaze flicking between Felix and the basket in Jeong-In's hands. "Why not join us?"

"I only came to deliver food," Felix says quickly. "That's all."

Ji-sung frowns, stepping in beside him. "Still...Are you okay? You look—"

"I'm fine," Felix interjects before he can finish, voice a touch sharper than intended. He exhales, pressing a hand to his forehead in an attempt to steady himself. "It's just...cold."

Seung-min's voice drifts from the open window above. "That's what coats are for, Your Highness."

Laughter follows, and Felix fights the urge to sigh. He'd smile any other day, knowing it was a lighthearted joke, but he could feel the weight of too many eyes on him, from the knights watching from inside to Hyun-Jin standing just before him. The last thing he wants is more attention, more questions—more reason for someone to pick apart the way his hands are trembling at his sides.

But then, something red drips onto his scarf.

Felix freezes.

It's a small drop, bright and harsh against the pale fabric. For a second, he thinks it's nothing—maybe a stray ember from the cold wind, or a trick of the light. But then another drop follows. And another.

A slow, warm trickle slides past his lips.

He lifts his hand to his nose, fingers coming away stained in crimson. His stomach lurches at the sight, a wave of dizziness crashing over him so violently that his knees nearly give out. The dull pounding in his head sharpens into something heavier. Someone gasps behind him. "Prince Felix—"

Felix takes a step backward as if he can will himself away from this, as if he can pretend he's fine. But his body betrays him. Always. His vision swims, and the world shifts dangerously to the side. Then, warmth—urgent and firm—grabs onto his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

"Felix? Hey. Look at me."

Hyun-Jin.

His voice is closer this time, laced with something Felix can't decipher. His grip on his wrist is tight, grounding, but not harsh. Felix wants to shake him off, wants to tell him he's really okay—but he knows he isn't. His lips part, an attempt to speak—to insist—but no sound comes out.

And then, everything tilts.

The last thing he registers is Hyun-Jin's scared, panicked expression before the world fades into darkness.

-.-.-

When Felix gains consciousness, he jolts upright, his breath hitching in his throat. His head spins at the sudden movement, a dull throbbing pressing against his temples. He sucks in a slow breath, steadying himself, and his surroundings come into focus.

This isn't his room.

The sheets beneath him are softer, the air faintly tinged with something warm—something familiar. His gaze flits around, taking in the high ceilings, the heavy drapes, and the meticulously arranged furniture. He recognizes this space immediately.

It's Hyun-Jin's.

Felix gulps. His heart kicks up in his chest, uneasy. How did he get here? The last thing he remembers is standing outside the knights' quarters, a crowd forming, Hyun-Jin's voice calling his name—then blood, dizziness, and then...

His hand flies to his face.

His nose is dry now, with no trace of the earlier nosebleed, but the lingering discomfort is still there—a dull, nagging ache. A thick, warm blanket drapes over his shoulders, its citrus scent unmistakably Hyun-Jin's.

A wave of something strange washes over him.

Why was he brought here? Surely, there were other places he could have been taken. His own chambers, for one. The infirmary, even. But instead, he's here, wrapped in Hyun-Jin's sheets, surrounded by Hyun-Jin's scent.

He shifts slightly, trying to gather his thoughts, but the movement rustles the blankets—and from the corner of the room, a chair creaks.

Felix's breath catches, and slowly, he turns his head.

And there, illuminated by a lamp, is Hyun-Jin. His expression is void of anything, yet in his pupils there is remnants of deep concern. He's seated with one leg crossed over the other, elbow resting on the arm of the chair, fingers curled against his temple as if he's been waiting, worrying, wondering.

Before the alpha can even part his lips to speak, though, Felix is talking. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience," He blurts, pushing the blanket off his shoulders. "I'll go back to my room immediately—" He moves to swing his legs over the side of the bed, but a wave of dizziness crashes into him, and he barely manages to suppress a grimace. His body protests, still so weak and unsteady, but he steels himself, pressing his palms against the mattress in an attempt to stand. Hyun-Jin doesn't move. He doesn't stop him, doesn't reach out to steady him—just watches. For now.

Felix's feet touch the floor. He wobbles.

And then, finally, the alpha speaks. "You're not going anywhere." It's firm, not harsh, but a command nonetheless.

Felix hesitates. He holds onto the bedpost for support, his mind racing. Hyun-Jin may say that, but he still shouldn't be here. This was too much, too strangely intimate, too—

"You collapsed," Hyun-Jin starts, voice quieter now. "Right in front of me." His head tilts slightly, eyes narrowing. "And yet, your first instinct is to leave?"

Felix nods—stupidly so. He's wide-eyed, and his instincts are screaming at him to just leave, but he doesn't. "I...You...you didn't have to give me your bed, nor take me to your room. I would've been fine on my own," Felix swallows, his fingers tightening around the bedpost. He doesn't know why he's rambling, why he feels the need to justify something that shouldn't need justifying. "My clothes haven't been changed and I'm dirty from walking outside, therefore—"

"Felix," Hyun-Jin's voice is gentler now, softer, and it startles Felix more than if he had been angry. He watches as the alpha steps closer, slow and careful as if approaching a startled animal. "You're sick," Hyun-Jin states. "And exhausted."

Felix blinks at him.

"I've been told you barely ate at breakfast," Hyun-Jin continues, his gaze unwavering. "I was also told you looked like you were going to collapse the moment you stepped outside, and then—" He exhales, a sharp, quiet thing. "Then you did."

Felix says nothing. He grips the fabric of his sleeve, fingers digging into the material. Hyun-Jin stops in front of him, close enough that Felix can make out the faintest trace of his scent—soothing, like chocolate and tangerines. "I'm sorry—"

"Having you return to my bed would be a better apology. Nonetheless, don't apologize for feeling unwell, everyone does at some point. And if you think I'm bothered by dirty clothes, I can give you some of mine to change into."

Felix stares at him, his mouth opening slightly before closing again. There's something about the way Hyun-Jin says it—casual, yet like he won't entertain another argument. It's frustrating, but it's also...grounding, in a way. Felix glances down at himself. His clothes are slightly damp from the snow outside. They cling to his skin uncomfortably, and now that Hyun-Jin has pointed it out, he can't ignore how unpleasant it feels.

But to wear Hyun-Jin's clothes? That's—

"...I really don't mind," Hyun-Jin goes on, as if he can read Felix's thoughts. "I have spare garments in the wardrobe. Unless, you'd rather sleep in what you have now?"

Felix presses his lips together. His head still feels too heavy, his limbs too weak. The thought of peeling off his clothes and slipping into something warm—something soft—suddenly seems far too tempting. "...Alright," 

Chapter Text

Tw// mentions of physical abuse, panic attacks

Felix tugs at the oversized sleeves of Hyun-Jin’s clothes, his fingers peeking out from the fabric. The long-sleeved shirt drapes over his torso, swallowing him in warmth, while the pants—though cinched at the waist—hang loosely around his legs. It’s comfortable, soft, and it smells faintly of the alpha.

When he returns from the dressing room, Hyun-Jin is watching him. There’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, subtle but unmistakable. His gaze traces over Felix’s figure, lingering just a second too long before he tilts his head slightly. “You look…nice,” He says, voice carrying something close to amusement.

Felix raises his eyebrow. “I’m not that much shorter than you,”

Hyun-Jin chuckles. “Sure,” He says, stepping forward and gently pressing a hand against Felix’s shoulder to guide him toward the bed. “Now lay back down. I’ll go get Min-ho.”

The moment that name leaves his lips, Felix stiffens, and suddenly, the haze of exhaustion is replaced with sharp panic. “No,” The protest comes out too quickly, too desperately. Felix grips Hyun-Jin’s wrist before he can turn away, his fingers tightening instinctively.

Hyun-Jin’s expression shifts, brows furrowing. “Felix, you need a physician.”

“I don’t,” Felix says. His head is still throbbing from earlier, but he shakes his head regardless. “I just—I just need a little time. Please, don’t get Minho. I’ll be fine in a few hours—“

“Felix, you passed out, and you’re telling me not to get a doctor?”

Felix forces himself to steady his breathing, to keep himself from looking as desperate as he feels. He knows how ridiculous he sounds—he knows Hyun-Jin can see right through him, knows he’s pushing his luck. But he can’t do it. He can’t see Minho, can’t let himself be examined like some fragile, broken thing. “I don’t like doctors,” He mutters, his voice quieter now. “They’re intrusive, and they know too…too much. Just—stay with me. Please? And If I don’t feel better when I wake up, I’ll go see Minho. I swear.” The words come out rushed as if saying them quickly will make them more convincing.

Hyun-Jin pauses. “Stay with you…?”

“I know I seem a little sick, and you don’t have to—but I just…don’t want to be alone right now. I promise when I get up again I’ll take medicine—“

“No. No. That’s okay—I don’t mind. But…What do you specifically mean by stay with you?”

“Lay…” Felix starts. He knows he’s asking for too much. Knows he should let it go, close his eyes, and will himself to sleep without pushing any further. But he can’t. “Lay…here. With me.” The words feel foreign on his tongue, like they don’t belong to him. (Yet, at the same time, this is a good excuse to distract Hyun-Jin). He braces himself for whatever comes next.

Hyun-Jin's lips part as if he’s about to say something—maybe a refusal, maybe a question—but then he stops. Something softer settles over his features, and he exhales through his nose. Then finally, he nods. “Alright,” He says.

Felix looks at him shocked. He hadn’t expected him to agree so easily. He shifts to make room, watching as Hyun-Jin hesitates only briefly before sitting beside him. The mattress dips under his weight, and the warmth is immediate, pressing against Felix’s side like a grounding presence. It’s…comforting. More than it should be. “…Thank you. And…can you also stay until I wake up...?”

Hyun-Jin’s lips tug into a small, wry smile. “Of course.” He says it genuinely, but deep down, he feels guilty, knowing he can’t keep that promise. Felix’s reaction alone at the mention of seeing a doctor, makes him believe - that even once he wakes up - he’ll do everything he can from seeing one. And he won’t allow that. So when Felix becomes limp at his side, his breathing evening out as sleep takes hold, Hyun-Jin dwells on the matter longer.

Felix doesn’t want to see Minho.

And whatever reason he has for it must be strong enough to push through his discomfort, his sickness. But that doesn’t mean he can ignore it. With a quiet sigh, he reaches over, brushing a few strands of golden hair from Felix’s face. He won’t wake him now. No, Felix needs his rest. But when he does wake up, he will make sure he sees Minho—whether he likes it or not. Because Felix’s well-being is more important than whatever fear is keeping him from it.

-.—

When Felix wakes—for the third time—Hyun-Jin isn’t with him. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting silver streaks along the floor. The room is quiet, save for the distant murmur of voices beyond the door, muffled and indistinct. The air is cool, carrying the faintest scent of Hyun-Jin’s lingering presence—tangerines and chocolate, now mixed with something sharper, something…almost sterile. Oddly enough.

The blankets beside him are ruffled, evidence that Hyun-Jin had been there, had stayed like he said he would—until he didn’t. Felix shifts slightly, fingers brushing over the fabric where warmth should be but isn’t. His body still aches, exhaustion settling into his bones like a second skin, but it’s not enough to drown out the feeling creeping up his spine.

A sterile smell.

Awfully familiar, and that could only mean—

“Ah,” A hum breaks the silence. Their voice is smooth, almost amused. “You’re finally awake.”

Felix swallows hard, throat dry, when an orange-haired man comes into focus near his bedside. “…Where’s Hyun-Jin?”

Doctor Lee tilts his head slightly. “Gone to speak with his parents,” He answers simply. “He asked me to check on you in the meantime. Don’t worry though, he’ll be back soon.” His gaze flicks over Felix, assessing. “You don’t look as bad as I expected. Everyone made it seem like you died in front of them.”

Felix doesn’t respond. His skin prickles under the weight of that scrutiny, his mind already racing with ways to avoid whatever this is about to become. “Is this…for my check-up?”

Min-ho nods. “Of course. We can’t have our new Prince feeling ill.”

“Can I refuse?“ Felix asks, voice quieter than he intends.

Min-ho lifts a brow as if amused by the question. “You could,” He says, stepping closer, “But that wouldn’t be very wise, would it? I’m not here to make you uncomfortable, Felix. I just need to check a few things—your temperature, your pulse, ask a few questions. That’s all.”

Felix presses his lips together. He really doesn’t trust doctors. He doesn’t trust the way they always see too much, know too much, and have the power to expose any information they find despite the patient's wishes. And Min-ho—Doctor Lee—with his rimmed glasses, white coat, and cat-like eyes, have already been watching him too carefully.

Min-ho waits for a beat, then sighs. He sets a bag down and rolls up his sleeves. “So, are you going to let me do my job the easy way, or do I have to get jinnie? He won’t take it lightly if you refuse.”

Felix thinks about it - really, really thinks, and then eventually, he relents. He has no other choice. It’s not like he can get up and run—that would be too obvious, too wrong for his normal behavior.

Min-ho hums in approval. “Good choice.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small, crystalline device that shimmers faintly under the lamplight. “First, let’s check your fever.”

Felix stays rigid as Minho presses the cool end of the device against his temple. A soft glow pulses from its core, shifting between colors before settling on a deep amber. Minho’s lips press into a thin line. “As I thought,” He mutters, withdrawing the tool. “You’re still burning up.”

Felix frowns. “All I need is—”

“I’ll be the judge of what you need,” Min-ho interjects smoothly, already reaching for another tool—a small, ornate vial with a needle-like tip.

Felix stiffens immediately. “What’s that?”

“Something to analyze your blood,” Min-ho answers. “It’s infused with a diagnostic spell. Just a small sample, and it’ll tell me exactly what’s wrong.”

His stomach twists. Blood magic. It’s not unusual for medical purposes, but the thought of his blood being scrutinized, dissected for truths he might not even know himself—

His breathing quickens.

Min-ho notices. His eyes flick up, softer now. “My prince…please relax,” He says softly, noticing. “This won’t hurt. I’ll make sure.”

He forces himself to nod, though every part of him is screaming against it. Minho takes his hand, finds the right spot, and presses the vial’s tip against his skin. There’s a faint prick, barely noticeable, before a thin stream of crimson swirls into the glass, glowing faintly as magic begins its work. The liquid inside the vial shifts, a spell weaving through it, revealing whatever truths lie beneath.

And then, Minho stills. His expression doesn’t change—not entirely—but there’s a flicker of something. A shadow passes through his gaze as if remembering a bad memory.

“…What?” Felix’s voice is hoarse. “What's wrong?”

“Just thinking,” Min-ho says. “But what I can tell off the bat, is you have low blood pressure and seem to be anemic. You’re not getting enough iron or vitamins, and you’ve been stressed, so that could also explain why you passed out. But there is something…” Min-ho’s eyes trail down Felix’s hands. “More.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not exactly sure yet.” Minho smiles innocently. “But I will be soon. First, before anything, can you eat that plate of food for me? Right here.” He gestures toward a nearby tray,

Felix glances at the tray. It’s filled with warm, nourishing food—soft bread, a bowl of porridge, and a small portion of seasoned vegetables. Simple, but made with care. His stomach turns just looking at it, but it also growls. “I’m not really—”

“Prince Felix,” Min-ho cuts him off, folding his arms. “Eat. You want to get better, no?” The command is gentle, but there’s no room for refusal.

Felix’s fingers curl into his lap. He doesn’t want to, but Min-ho won’t leave him alone otherwise. Begrudgingly, he reaches for the spoon and takes a small bite of the porridge, swallowing it down despite the way his throat tightens in protest. Min-ho watches him closely, and whatever he’s looking for, whatever he suspects—Felix has no idea. But as he takes another bite, he can’t shake the feeling that Min-ho already knows something he doesn’t.

Min-ho watches him eat in silence for a moment, then leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming idly against the armrest. “So,” He says casually, “How often do you eat?”

Felix raises his eyebrow, his grip on the spoon tightening slightly. “I eat…enough.”

Minho hums. “Enough. That’s a vague answer, don’t you think? Let’s try again—how many meals do you have in a day?”

Felix glances at him warily, shifting in his seat. “The usual. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

“Do you finish all of them?”

Felix exhales sharply through his nose. “Most of the time.”

Min-ho raises a brow. “Most of the time?”

Felix presses his lips together, feeling like he’s walking straight into a trap. He looks back at his plate, poking at the food.

“What about favorite foods?” Min-ho continues, tilting his head. “Surely there’s something you enjoy eating?”

Felix shrugs. “I like sweets like brownies.”

“I see. But you don’t eat a lot of them?”

“…Not really.”

Min-ho clicks his tongue. “You know, I couldn’t help but notice something strange. As I’ve said before, you’re a bit underweight, especially for a prince—one that should be taken care of well,” Minho says. “Nothing too alarming yet, but still—not what I’d expect from a royal who claims to eat three meals a day.”

Felix’s stomach twists uncomfortably. He keeps his gaze fixed on the food in front of him, not trusting himself to speak.

“And,” Min-ho continues, voice lowering slightly, “I hear you visit the bathroom a lot after breakfast. Or after any scheduled dining period, actually, and it’s not to use the bathroom.” He rests his chin against his hand, watching him carefully. “Now, I’m not one to jump to conclusions,” He says lightly, “But that’s a bit odd, don’t you think? Being Anemic doesn’t explain it all.”

Felix clenches his jaw. “Then what’s your point?”

Min-ho leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “My point is, you’re not telling me what I already know. Stop dancing around it.”

Felix’s grip on the spoon tightens. “I don’t understand what you’re asking of me—”

“You have anorexia nervosa.”

Those words land like a strike to his chest.

Mn-ho’s voice is calm but firm. “You restrict your intake, don’t you? Push food around your plate, and find excuses to skip meals. And when you do eat, you make sure it doesn’t stay down for long.”

Felix exhales sharply, his pulse roaring in his ears. “That’s not—”

“It is.” Min-ho interrupts, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ve treated people before. I’ve…seen it before. And I know what it looks like.”

“I—” His voice wavers, and he hates it. “I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Min-ho asks, softer this time. “You don’t have a problem? You don’t do it on purpose?”

Felix bites the inside of his cheek. He doesn’t have an answer. Or maybe, he has too many, and none of them matter anymore. Of course, he knew he couldn’t keep it hidden forever, but for Min-ho to say it outright was—

It was suffocating. He feels stripped bare, every carefully constructed excuse and avoidance shattered in a matter of seconds.

“I want to know why you do it, and how your eating disorder developed.”

How? Felix thinks. How is he supposed to explain that this—this wretched, self-destructive habit—is the only thing in his life he has any power of? That when everything else is dictated for him, from the way he speaks to the way he breathes, his eating habits remain the one thing that is his? How is he supposed to admit that purging isn’t just about the food—it’s about relief, about feeling empty, about washing away everything he can’t bear to keep inside? That it’s become something of a ritual, a self-soothing mechanism when his mind feels too loud, when the weight of his existence presses down on him so hard he can barely stand it?

But he can’t say that. He can’t.

Because that would mean starting from the root of the issue—family, trauma, slowly losing his will to live—and he isn’t ready for that conversation now. Yet…there’s one simple thing he can say that’s true.

“It's the only thing I have control over.”

Min-ho’s expression shifts—just slightly, but enough that Felix catches it. A flicker of understanding, of something dangerously close to sympathy. It makes Felix’s skin prickle. “Control, huh?” He murmurs. He leans back, exhaling slowly. His eyes settle on Felix—his guarded demeanor, his anxious body language—and he deems whatever this is to be deeper than he expected. Trauma stems from the experiences in your life. Trauma can lead to things you have no control over, and later on, bloom into something far worse.

Minho could push. He could pry, and expose the facts Felix so desperately wants to keep hidden. But Felix isn’t ready. Not until he feels content enough with them all to reveal his wounds. “Okay, I’ll take that,” He eventually says, tilting his head as if conceding a temporary truce. “I’ll conclude our session here today then. I won’t push you tonight. But this conversation isn’t over, Felix. Not by a long shot. We will continue to meet, and then I’ll have you do a physical evaluation when you’re ready—meaning I’ll take a look at your body a bit closer. Not intrusively, of course.”

A physical evaluation.

A look at his body.

That’s something he can’t avoid, just like he couldn’t with this. “…Okay.” Felix nods slowly. “But…you won’t tell Hyun-Jin about my eating disorder?”

“I won’t. I understand you don’t want him to worry. You don’t want anyone to worry. But if you keep going like this, you’ll end up in a place where it won’t matter what you want—because your body will give out before you even have a choice. Then, worry will be unavoidable.” Min-ho says. “I won’t tell him, but like I said before, if he requests information that I’m explicitly keeping, I can’t refuse. Currently, however, I’m sure he won’t as this is the first instance you’ve been sick before him. If it keeps happening he’ll get suspicious.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, I want you to finish all of your food, and after, take the medicine I’m prescribing you daily. I’m not gonna hustle you right away to eat as often as you should—but try to get two full meals a day. Less purging and being picky. If you don’t uphold that end of our agreement and I find out, I’ll break my promise and tell Hyun-Jin.”

“…I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

Min-ho exhales. “Perfect. That’s all I’m asking. But do remember….your eating disorder is not your friend. You may like the control you have, but it’s killing you.”

“I know that…but I can’t exactly stop,” Felix says.

Not yet, at least. Not until he feels comfortable enough in this kingdom—with Hyun-Jin, with the others around him. Not until his engagement is secured without issues, without whispers of doubt or threats of rejection. Because if anything jeopardizes that…if he isn’t careful…there’s always the risk that he’ll have to return. To his kingdom. To his commanding mother. To Jiho and his abuses.

His stomach coils painfully at the thought, but he forces himself to breathe through it. Min-ho doesn’t press him for more, but the weight of his gaze tells Felix he’s thinking, dissecting every word. “…I see. Then, at least try. I won’t pretend it’s easy. I won’t even pretend you’ll succeed right away. But if you can give yourself the chance to…maybe, just maybe, you’ll find that control in something that won’t destroy you.”

Hyun-Jin comes back into the room several minutes later, his breath uneven—seemingly having run back after finishing his business. His gaze sweeps over the scene in front of him: Minho scribbling on his clipboard, Felix sitting up in bed, finishing the last bits of his food. Without hesitation, Hyun-Jin strides over, his presence commanding yet unmistakably gentle as he kneels beside Felix. Before Felix can react, his hand feels against his forehead. “You’re still warm,” He murmurs, brows furrowed in concern. His eyes flick to Min-ho. “How has he been?”

Min-ho barely looks up from his notes. “Still alive.”

Hyun-Jin exhales sharply, clearly unimpressed with the lack of elaboration. “Min-ho.”

“He’s right there, no? Prince Felix is fully capable of answering that.”

Hyun-Jin rolls his eyes, but he turns to him. “Are you feeling better, Felix?”

Felix nods, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. “I’m fine. You don’t have to…”

“Oh,” Hyun-Jin retracts his hand quickly. “Sorry,”

“It’s alright. Since I’m…feeling better. Is it okay if I go back to my room to continue resting? I’ve been here too long taking up your space. It’s already late,”

Hyun-Jin falters at the question. Subtle disappointment flickers across his face, gone almost as quickly as it appears. It’s so brief that Felix almost misses it, but he doesn’t. “Are you sure?” He asks after a pause.

Felix hesitates. He should want to go back to his own room. He should want to be alone, where he doesn’t feel so watched, so exposed. He should put distance between them before he gets too used to this and he forgets his place. And yet—

“I think our Prince is right, Jin,” Min-ho speaks before he can. “You don’t have to bring him to your room every time, Jinnie. Unless you have that preference. However, I’m also agreeing because I need to inform you of his condition and such. Privately.” Min-ho glances at Felix. It’s not a betraying look, but a warning, pointed and laced with an unspoken message.

Felix feels it immediately, the silent weight of Min-ho’s expectations pressing against him. Hyun-Jin, however, is oblivious to the tension that passes between them. His attention remains on Felix, though at Min-ho’s words, his expression shifts—an unreadable flicker of something crossing his face before he exhales through his nose. “Then at least let me walk you out,” He says.

Felix nods and moves to stand, steadying himself. Hyun-Jin’s hand hovers near his elbow, like he’s preparing to catch him if he sways, but Felix manages to stand strong. Min-ho hums, tapping his pen against his clipboard. “Have a good rest, Prince Felix.” His words are polite, but the undertone is clear: Remember our deal.

Felix dips his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Doctor Lee.”

Hyun-Jin doesn’t say anything as he leads Felix toward the door. As they step into the hallway, Felix allows himself a single, quiet breath. One problem was avoided—at least for now. After a goodbye, Hyun-Jin watches him go, his eyes lingering until he’s certain Felix is truly well enough to make it the rest of the way alone. Only then does he shut the door and turn back to Min-ho. “So, what did you find out?” His voice is lower now, edged with something tight—concern, frustration. “Everyone’s been worried sick. And Jeong-In…He thinks it’s his fault.”

Min-ho doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he studies Hyun-Jin. Then, slowly, his lips curve into a smile—sweet, but not quite reassuring. “Of course, Hyun,” He says coyly. “Our dear sunshine prince is…simply anemic. That, and he hasn’t been eating enough.” He twirls his pen between his fingers, watching Hyun-Jin’s reaction. “With rest, proper meals, and the medicine I’ve prescribed, he’ll get better.”

A beat of silence. Then, almost too quiet to catch—

“Hopefully.”

“What do you mean by hopefully?” Hyun-Jin asks.

“Nothing much,” Min-ho sets his clipboard down and starts packing his tools into his bag. “That’s if he chooses to listen to what I told him. I can’t exactly force him to.” He pauses, then glances up at Hyun-Jin. “But you…maybe you can.”

Hyun-Jin’s brows furrow. “What are you getting at?”

“I recommend changing up your schedule,” Min-ho continues, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Make sure of that fact, you know. Be there when he has to eat.”

“You want me to make sure he eats?”

“Yes.” Min-ho meets his gaze, unflinching. “Is that a problem? I’m sure he’d listen to you more than me, no?”

Hyun-Jin clenches his jaw. He thinks about Felix—about his odd demeanor, the way he always brushes off concern with a smile, how he had asked for him to stay earlier, then at the banquet—how he was reluctant to eat. It hadn’t clicked then, but now, it was worrying. How long had Felix been like this? Had he been hiding it all along? The thought unsettles him, gnawing at the edges of his mind. “Okay,” He says, at last, his voice quieter but firm. “I’ll handle it.”

Min-ho smiles. “Good.” He slings his bag over his shoulder, making his way to the door. “Because if he doesn’t start improving, I will step in, and you may not like how I do it.”

Hyun-Jin doesn’t respond immediately. He knows Min-ho well enough to understand the unspoken weight behind those words. He may be a friend, but he’s a medical official first. “I won’t let it come to that.”

Min-ho studies him for a moment, then nods. “Make sure you don’t. The prince's health is important.”

With that, he steps out, leaving Hyun-Jin standing in the room, alone with his thoughts—and the lingering realization that Felix might have underlying issues more than he lets on.

-.-

The morning sun filters through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the dining hall. The clinking of silverware and other quiet chatter from the king and queen fills the space, but Felix barely notices, too caught up in conversation with Yeji.

“…And then I told him, ‘If you’re going to lie, at least make it sound convincing,’” Yeji says, shaking her head with a smirk. “Honestly, it’s embarrassing at this point.”

Felix smiles, resting his chin on his hand. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to admit you’re right.”

Obviously. But he should know better by now.” Yeji sighs, then after a moment, her tone shifts, quieter, more serious. “Are you sure you’re feeling better today…?”

Felix gives her a wry look. “Yeah. I apologize, the news must’ve shocked you.”

“Oh, please don’t apologize.” Yeji waves a hand dismissively. “If anything, we should’ve been more attentive to your health. Not to mention…” She pauses, watching Felix carefully. “I’ve never seen my brother so worried before. He rushed back here with you in his arms like it was the end of the world.”

Felix stills. Right. He remembers waking up in a different bed, the weight of the blankets, the lingering scent that wasn’t his own. But he hadn’t thought about how he got there. He hadn’t thought about the way Hyun-Jin must have carried him all the way back without a carriage.

He pushes his food around on his plate. “…I didn’t know that.”

Yeji gives him an amused look. “You were unconscious. But trust me, everyone saw it.”

Felix doesn’t know how that makes him feel, nor how to respond to that. Instead, he keeps his gaze down, focusing on the quiet clinking of silverware, and the low murmur of conversation around them. His chest feels strangely tight.

He must’ve inconvenienced them all.

The thought settles uncomfortably in his mind, pressing against the back of his skull. He hadn’t meant to cause trouble—hadn’t meant for everyone to worry. And yet, here he was, the center of concern, the reason for hushed conversations and lingering glances—something that’s all his own fault, and will continue to be if he doesn’t fix his health. Before he can dwell on it further—before his mind can pick apart more false negatives of the situation—a chair shifts beside him. It’s pulled out, and when Felix glances up, he finds Hyun-Jin lowering himself into the seat next to him.

His eyes widen immediately, and he straightens up.

“Good morning,” Hyun-Jin says softly, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes as he looks Felix over.

Felix answers quickly. “Morning.”

Yeji raises a brow, looking between the two before leaning back in her seat. “Well, this is new. You don’t usually join us for breakfast, Your Highness.”

Hyun-Jin doesn’t acknowledge the teasing lilt in her voice. Instead, he reaches for the teapot in front of him, pouring himself a cup. “I figured I’d change my routine today.”

Felix frowns slightly. All of a sudden? Something about the way he says it feels deliberate. Planned. But he doesn’t have time to dwell on it before Hyun-Jin’s eyes flick to his plate. “Have you…eaten yet?”

It’s such a simple question, yet it makes something in him bristle. He glances down at his plate—still half full, though he was eating before Hyun-Jin arrived. “…I was in the middle of it,” Felix replies slowly.

Hyun-Jin hums. “Good.” He picks up his cup, taking a sip, but his gaze lingers on him longer than necessary, and he soon realizes why Hyun-Jin is here. Not because his schedule suddenly allowed for a leisurely breakfast. Not because he wanted casual conversation. He’s watching him. Making sure. And Min-ho probably told him to when they talked “privately”.

Felix’s fingers tighten around the fork as he forces himself to take another bite. He knows he should be grateful. Hyun-Jin is only concerned—but it’s also a reminder that he’s being monitored, and that his choices are no longer fully his own. Still, he keeps eating. Because he knows that if he doesn’t, this won’t be the last instance someone shows up to watch him.

“Did you sleep well?” Hyun-Jin speaks up again, voice softer this time.

Felix nods. “I did.” He hesitates for a moment before adding, “About your clothes…I’ll wash them and return them later. Thank you for letting me use them.”

Hyun-Jin sets his cup down and leans slightly closer. “Keep them.”

Felix blinks. “What?”

“I have plenty,” Hyun-Jin says simply as if that explains everything. “Besides, they suit you. It wouldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of sleepwear.”

“Are you really sure?” Felix asks slowly, so unsure and confused. Although he says not have many clothes here yet—keeping the prince's clothes is beyond him. It’s already enough he allowed him to wear them, stay in his bed, and take his room.

Hyun-Jin exhales a quiet laugh. “Felix, I’m really sure. It’s just fabric, and it won’t hurt to be down a pair. And if it helps, you looked comfortable in them.”

Felix feels warmth creep up his neck. He doesn’t know why that comment gets to him, but it does. Before he can form a response, Yeji leans forward with a teasing smile. “Oh, that’s so cute,” She muses. “You’re giving him your clothes now? I didn’t know you were such a giver, Jinnie. Are you trying to mark him with—-“

Hyun-Jin reaches over and stuffs a piece of French toast in her mouth, shutting her up before she can go on.

Felix’s mouth falls open slightly. “Yeji—“

“Ignore her,” Hyun-Jin shrugs, smirking slightly as he picks up his cup again. “What can I say? He looks good in them.”

“Yeah, okay.” Yeji narrows her eyes, speaking while she chews.

“Aren’t you all amusing!” The Queen comments, clapping her hands.

As the conversation continues, Felix stuffs his face with food to avoid talking about the topic any further, chewing a little too slowly just to keep himself occupied. He can still feel his face burning, but at least if his mouth is full, no one can expect him to respond.

Yeji, thankfully, moves on quickly. “Anyway, Felix, I was thinking—why don’t you come riding with me and Irene later? It’s been a while since I’ve gone, and I want to spend more time with you before a certain someone gets too comfortable and starts whisking you away.”

Felix pauses mid-chew, glancing at her. “Riding…?”

“Yeah, horses. You do know how to ride, right?”

He does. Kind of. It’s never been his strong suit, and truthfully, he’s never had a fondness for it. Some may call him a weak prince for lacking in that skill, but he could care less. The thought of getting on a horse again makes his stomach twist, but Yeji looks excited about the idea, and declining would give Irene a reason to say he doesn’t “like” her that much. But Yeji - she makes up for it. She’s been kind to him so far, so he doesn’t want to turn them down. “…Yeah,” he says finally. “I can ride.”

Yeji beams. “Great! We’ll go after breakfast, then. How we go about it is whoever gets their horse ready first and races to the garden wins. There we’ll have snacks and such.”

Felix nods, but he can’t shake the unease curling in his chest.

He's never had a good experience with horses. The few times he was made to ride back in his kingdom were stiff, controlled affairs—his posture had to be perfect, his pace steady, his expression poised. It wasn’t about enjoying the ride; it was about looking the part of a proper prince. He remembers the tight grip of the reins, the scolding from an instructor when he hesitated, the way the tall creatures always seemed just on the verge of throwing him off. And…another thing that ruins it for him.

-.-

Felix ends up at the stables a little later than everyone else. He chose to take his time eating, to gather his mind, and focus on how he was going to go about this—

But with Hyun-Jin unfortunately at his side.

After he finished eating, Hyun-Jin had stood from the table almost in sync with him, offering—no, deciding—to accompany him to the stables, assuming Yeji had already left with her horse. He didn’t argue. What would be the point?

Now, as they approach the stables, the air smells thick of hay and earth, and the occasional huff of a restless steed fills the quiet between them. Felix grips his sleeves, his palms already clammy. His heartbeat is steady for now, but the moment he steps closer, he knows it’ll spike. Hyun-Jin walks beside him, hands tucked behind his back. He doesn’t say much, but Felix can feel his gaze flicking toward him every so often like he’s waiting for something. Maybe for him to say he’s changed his mind. But Felix won’t. He can’t. (Even if every fiber of his being is telling him this is a bad, bad idea).

The stables are alive with the scent of hay and the soft sounds of horses shifting in their stalls. It’s quiet, and empty, with only the occasional snort or the rhythmic stomping of hooves filling the space. Dust dances in the beams of morning light filtering through the wooden slats, giving the stable an almost serene quality—one that does nothing to calm the anxiety curling in Felix’s stomach.

Hyun-Jin steps ahead of him, hands still tucked behind his back as he glances toward the stalls. “Looks like Yeji and Irene already took their picks. They’re so competitive.” He muses, stopping in front of the remaining horses. He gestures toward the nearest one, a sleek black stallion with a sharp gaze and a faint white streak running down its nose. “This one’s Jangmi. He’s a bit temperamental but loyal once he trusts you. And this,” He points to a chestnut mare with a soft, drowsy expression, “Is Sori. She’s gentle and easy to handle—probably the best choice for an easy ride. She’s a little slow, though.” Finally, Hyun-Jin nods toward a large, gray horse, its mane well-groomed, eyes narrowed. “And this is Haneul. He’s strong and disciplined—but extremely difficult to get along with. He’s also my personal horse.”

Felix hesitates, gaze flitting between them, before reluctantly asking, “…Which do you think is good for me?”

Hyun-Jin tilts his head, watching him carefully. Then, with an almost knowing smile, he shrugs. “I think that’s up to you. But I’d say go with my horse.”

“I thought you said he’s difficult?”

“Difficult, yes. And also selective—but if I’m fine with you, he must have to also.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, wondering what kind of logic is that. Either way, he steps forward to test it. The moment he approaches, Haneul’s ears flick in his direction. The stallion watches him with sharp, assessing eyes, nostrils flaring slightly. Felix pauses, glancing briefly at Hyun-Jin, who merely smiles. Felix extends a careful hand. Haneul snorts but doesn’t shy away. Slowly, Felix moves closer, brushing his fingers lightly along the stallion’s muzzle. The horse blinks, exhales against his palm, then nudges at him—firm, but not aggressive.

“There you go,” Hyun-Jin murmurs. Felix almost sighs in relief. He strokes Haneul’s mane, feeling the warmth of the horse’s breath against his skin. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he thought. But as Hyun-Jin moves to pick up something nearby, that quickly becomes wrong.

‘I’m going to release him soon, so if you want to get the…” Hyun-Jin’s voice drowns out, turns to static in his ears. He should be paying attention to whatever he’s saying—to Hyun-Jin showing him how to control his horse, how to adjust the reins, and how to settle into the saddle properly. He should. But he isn’t listening. He’s too busy staring at the object in Hyun-Jin’s hand—the hunting crop.

It’s nothing serious. Just a tool. A piece of leather and wood. It’s nothing unusual; knights and hunters alike carry them often to get their horses to work a little faster. It’s not raised, not pointed at him, and not meant for him at all. But it doesn’t matter, because as Hyun-Jin absentmindedly taps the leather against his palm, Felix’s stomach still turns, and he still recalls something he never wanted to again. A memory stirs—painful, suffocating, buried deep for a reason.

It’s cold. Unusually cold. The kind of cold that seeps into his bones, settling deep beneath his skin. The courtyard stones are damp beneath his knees, their rough texture biting through the thin fabric of his sleepwear. The sky overhead is grim with impending rain, thick clouds churning, heavy with the promise of a downpour. The air is dense with the smell of damp earth, wet hay, and restless, irritated animals. The horses in their stalls shift angrily against the ground.

Felix shivers. Not from the cold, but from something deeper. Something far worse.

Jiho stands before him, calm, composed. His voice is smooth, almost pitying, so unlike the forceful grip that had ripped him from his bed only moments ago. “Come closer, Yong-bok.”

Felix doesn’t move. He can’t. His body is stiff, locked in place as if obeying some primal instinct to make himself as small, as unnoticeable as possible.

Jiho sighs, long and drawn out as if he’s truly disappointed. Then a hand lands on his shoulder—warm, deceptively gentle, fingers pressing just enough to remind Felix of their presence. “You see,” He murmurs, tilting his head, “I never wanted to do this.” His thumb strokes absentmindedly against the fabric of Felix’s shirt, a mockery of comfort. “But…there’s only so much I can do before you act out of place, and I have to discipline you. His voice remains steady, almost regretful. Almost. But Felix knows better.

He knows what’s coming—what always does during one of Jiho’s “tantrums”.

The horses are louder now—snorting, stomping, the harsh scrape of iron against stone that mixes with the pounding in his heart.

There’s pressure on his back, a forceful shove, and suddenly, Felix stumbles forward before he can stop himself. His knees slam into the damp ground, and a sharp jolt of pain shoots up his legs, but he barely registers it over the rush of panic clawing up his throat. His hands press against the dirt, fingers digging into the cold earth as he struggles to steady his breathing.

And then—

A sound slices through the air. A sharp, violent snap. White-hot pain sears across his thigh, sudden and blinding, like fire licking at his skin.

It happens again, quicker. Then again, and so forth. His body jerks with each one, but he stays still, teeth sinking deeper into his lower lip to the point he draws blood, willing himself not to react. It isn’t the worst pain he’s endured; It isn’t the worst thing Jiho has done.

But then Jiho exhales, almost disappointed, and the next sound Felix hears sends a fresh wave of panic crashing over him. The creak of stable doors.

The horses.

The sound of hooves.

Loud. Closer. His heartbeat drums against his ribs.

They’ll trample him—

He squeezes his eyes shut. He can’t move. He can’t breathe. His body locks up, frozen in place.

“Felix?” A different voice. Kind. Present.

But Felix isn’t.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—it’s all my fault. I won’t do it again I swear. I’ll be obedient. I’ll do what you want. Please—“ He gasps for air, but it’s not coming fast enough. His vision swims with flashes of the past and present colliding all at once. His fingers clutch at his sleeves, nails digging into his skin, but it isn’t enough—it isn’t grounding him, and he can still hear the echo of hooves, feel the imaginary weight of fear pressing down on his chest. He doesn’t even realize he’s speaking aloud. “I’ll listen. I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll—-“

A hand grasps his wrist—gentle. Not forceful, not cruel. Just there. “Prince Felix!” The voice calls again, urgent this time. “Look at me.”

The call cuts through the haze, through the roaring in his ears, and next, there’s a rough shake. Felix flinches, his eyes snapping to Hyun-Jin’s. He blinks through the wetness in them rapidly, his breath still uneven as he looks up, but the world isn’t crumbling around him anymore. The past is still there, lurking at the edges of his mind, but Hyun-Jin is here—anchoring him, pulling him back.

“There you are,” Hyun-Jin exhales, relief flickering across his face. “Breathe, Felix. You’re okay.”

Felix nods slowly, taking a deep breath. He glances at Hyun-Jin’s hand, and the hunting crop is gone—thrown somewhere far. “I…” His voice is hoarse, unsteady. He doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t know how to explain what the hell just happened. There’s no way out of this, no room to dance around the topic like he usually would.

“You don’t have to talk about it…if you don’t want to.” Hyun-Jin starts. His voice is calm, but there’s something firm underneath it—something that tells Felix he isn’t letting this go regardless if they speak about it or not. “You know, Anaiyia has panic attacks too…and…yeah.” He mentions, trying to comfort him more, but Felix isn’t focused on that. He can only think about how badly he slipped up, how easily he let himself break down in front of Hyun-Jin, and how Hyun-Jin has already caught onto the cracks in his demeanor.

Chapter Text

“I…” His voice is hoarse, unsteady. He doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t know how to explain despite how much Hyun-Jin says he doesn’t need to. He freaked out, and he remembered something that left scars on his body to this day. He panicked, and uttered words that Hyun-Jin should’ve never heard—desperate pleas that never fail to fall from his trembling lips whenever he “messes up” and “deserves” a punishment never warranted.

Hyun-Jin just squeezes Felix’s hands lightly, reassuring. “It’s okay,” He murmurs, rubbing his thumb over his wrist and spreading his scent lightly to soothe him more. Either way, Felix tries not to get affected by it—tries not to let it take over his senses completely. “I promise, but…are you okay with this? Do you still want to ride?”

Felix forces himself to straighten up. His grip tightens ever so slightly on the wooden railing, steadying himself before nodding. “Don’t worry…I won’t pass out like before.”

Hyun-Jin doesn’t look convinced. “No, not that. You seem…” He pauses and shakes his head. “Are you sure?”

Felix nods. He knows exactly what Hyun-Jin is implying, but he doesn’t want to acknowledge it. Doesn’t want to give it room to breathe. “I’m truly fine,” He says. “I just got lost in thought, that’s all. It was nothing. Or…it’s not nothing, but it’s an old thing. It shouldn’t matter anymore. I just had…a bad experience. With horses. But that one experience won’t change my decision.” His voice is steadier now, each word carefully put.

Hyun-Jin doesn’t respond right away. His eyes flick to the horses, then back to Felix, quiet and assessing. The stable is filled with the soft sounds of hooves shifting, of gentle huffs from the animals around them, but the silence stretching between them feels unbearably loud. Then finally, he says “I’ll ride with you.”

And Felix freezes, blinks, once, twice, and furrows his eyebrows. “You don’t have to do that,” He says quickly, almost too quickly, his pulse thrumming in his ears.

Hyun-Jin shrugs. “I know I don’t. But I want to.”

Felix shakes his head, forcing out a chuckle that sounds far too strained. “I told you, I’m fine. I can do this. You’ve already helped enough by accompanying me and seeing to me when I was sick.”

“I believe you,” Hyun-Jin says simply, stepping closer. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you do it alone. I have nothing much to do today until late, so it won’t hurt to ride with my husband.”

Felix’s eyebrows furrow further. He should argue. He should insist. But Hyun-Jin’s gaze is unwavering and there’s no challenge in it—no demand, no force. Just a promise that makes it hard for him to reject. Eventually, he relents. “…If that’s what you wish.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of Hyun-Jin’s lips, satisfied but not smug. He gestures toward Haneul, who shifts in his open stall, ears flicking in interest. “I’ll help you up first.”

And that’s how Felix ended up on the trail, riding at the front of the horse with Hyun-Jin behind him. “This…isn’t cheating for the race?” He asks hesitantly, gripping the reins in his hands. He tries to focus on the path ahead, the trees lining either side of the trail, the soft crunch of hooves against the dirt, but it’s hard to ignore the warmth at his back—the gentle rise and fall of Hyun-Jin’s chest against him.

“Technically, it is,” Hyun-Jin says, voice low near his ear. “But Yeji won’t care as long as you get there. She’ll make any excuse for you.”

“Still…” Felix starts, his grip tightening slightly. “I can control the horse by myself, I’m not completely inexperienced.”

“I know,” Hyun-Jin replies smoothly, “But I’d rather be careful.” His hands rest over Felix’s lightly, guiding him in holding the reins properly. “Besides, Haneul’s used to me. It’s better this way.”

Better. Right. Felix tells himself that’s all it is—practicality. But then the horse shifts slightly, and Hyun-Jin instinctively tightens his hold, pressing just a bit closer. Felix feels the solid weight of his arms around him, the faint breath against his shoulder, and his thoughts start slipping into dangerous territory.

“Relax,” Hyun-Jin murmurs. “You’re holding too much tension.”

Easy for him to say. He isn’t the one trapped in a war in his head—between the logical part of himself that knows this is simply Hyun-Jin being considerate and the reckless, foolish part that wants to believe there’s something more. Still, Felix forces himself to loosen his grip, adjusting to the movement of the horse. The ride is smooth and steady, and for a moment, he lets himself sink into the feeling of security. The warmth of Hyun-Jin’s presence, the softness of his touch—it’s grounding in a way he didn’t expect.

“…You’re doing well,” Hyun-Jin praises after a beat.

Felix nods slowly. “Yeah,” He says. “I think I am.”

For once.

As they continue along the trail, the sound of clashing swords and shouted commands grows louder. Felix looks ahead, spotting the knights in the training yard, their movements swift and disciplined. The rhythmic clang of metal against metal fills the air, accompanied by the occasional barked order. Before they can pass completely, two familiar figures break away from the group, sprinting toward them.

“Felix!” Ji-sung reaches them first, slightly out of breath but grinning, while Chang-bin follows close behind. Their eyes dart between Felix and Hyun-Jin, quickly taking in the situation—the way Felix is seated in front, Hyun-Jin’s arms loosely resting around him, the comfortable proximity. Jisung raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.

“Are you feeling better?” Chang-bin asks, his voice laced with concern.

Felix hesitates for only a second before nodding. “Yeah. I’m fine now. Sorry for worrying you all.”

Ji-sung crosses his arms. “You scared the hell out of us, you know. One second you were fine, and the next—bam!—on the floor. And now you’re out here riding horses like nothing happened?”

“It wasn’t that dramatic.” Felix cringes.

“Oh, it was,” Chang-bin counters. “Hyun-Jin here looked so scared and carried you off like some tragic scene from a storybook.”

Felix feels his ears tint red, but before he can argue, Hyun-Jin speaks up from behind him.

“He’s fine now,” He says. “And if anything happens, I’m right here.”

Ji-sung and Chang-bin exchange a glance, something unreadable passing between them, but neither pushes further. “Well, just don’t overdo it,” Ji-sung finally says, stepping back. “Are we allowed to see you later?”

Felix nods. “Yeah. I’ll catch up with you all soon.”

And with that, they return to the training yard, though not without a few lingering glances. Felix exhales, shaking his head. “They’re…going to overthink this too, aren’t they? Did you normally offer to ride with your past engagements?”

“No, only you,” Hyun-Jin says, amused. “But I’ll make sure it’s not your problem if they do.”

Felix sighs, gripping the reins again, all while pushing down how that statement makes him feel—only you.

Hyun-Jin chuckles, guiding Haneul forward once more. “Come on. We don’t want to keep them waiting.”

The ride continues smoothly, the gentle sway of Haneul’s movements easing Felix’s nerves. The path opens into a vast, snowy field, and at its heart stands an elegant gazebo with stone beams and a domed roof. Sheltering it is an inner dome enclosed by tall glass walls, filled with flourishing greenery and vibrant flowers. The sunlight filters warmly through the glass, casting golden reflections over the scene.

Near the entrance, Yeji and Irene are in the middle of hooking their horses up to the nearby posts. At the sound of approaching hooves, they glance up. Yeji’s gaze flicks between them, from Felix sitting at the front to Hyun-Jin settled comfortably behind him, hands still lightly resting at his sides. A slow, knowing smile spreads across her face. Irene, standing beside her, freezes, like she’s just witnessed something she couldn’t grasp.

“Well, well,” Yeji drawls, dusting off her hands. “You took your time getting here. Irene and I rode our horses all the way, but you…” She gestures toward Felix, still seated in front of Hyun-Jin. “Had a personal escort.”

Felix resists the urge to groan. “I was going to ride on my own. Hyun-Jin—”

“—offered,” Hyun-Jin finishes smoothly, getting off the horse swiftly before taking Felix’s hand to help him down. “So it’s all my fault, and I apologize. I just thought it was perfect that I accompany him today after what happened.”

Irene, over her shock, lets out a bubbly laugh and steps forward, inspecting Haneul. “It’s a surprise Haneul even let Prince Felix on, that’s rare.” She reaches out, hand steady as she moves to pet him, but the moment her fingers nearly brush his mane, Haneul huffs sharply and takes a step back. His ears flick, eyes narrowing as he watches her with clear distrust. “Oh.” Irene blinks, tilting her head. “A little temperamental, aren’t you? When I’ve known you longer?”

Yeji snickers from the side. “That’s putting it lightly. He only lets Hyun-Jin handle him—well, and apparently Felix, too.”

Felix glances at Haneul, a flicker of surprise in his expression. He hadn’t really thought about it, but considering how selective they say the horse is, the fact that he’d been allowed to ride him so easily does seem…unexpected. But then again, maybe that’s because he was with Hyun-Jin.

“Well, since we’re all here—and my brother, we should head in and greet everyone.

Well, since we’re all here—and my brother—we should head in and greet everyone.” Yeji gestures toward the gazebo, a knowing glint in her eyes.

“There’s more people here?” Felix asks, a hint of wariness slipping into his tone. Before he can react further, Irene suddenly rushes forward, latching onto his arm with a bright smile.

“Of course! This is a secret gathering I prepared for your welcome here. All my friends will be in attendance, even some other princes you could make relations with.”

Felix tenses slightly, his mind immediately running through the implications of that. Other princes? He wasn’t expecting that. His arrival here had been low-key so far—he hadn’t thought there would be another social event soon after the banquet, let alone another arranged specifically for him. He glances at Hyun-Jin, but the prince remains unreadable, merely watching the exchange with an arched brow. “A gathering…” Felix starts, still trying to wrap his head around it. “I see.”

Yeji grins. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fun! I’m sorry we had to surprise you like this, but just think of it as an informal way to introduce yourself properly to everyone.”

Felix exhales softly, nodding. He doesn’t have much of a choice now, does he?

As they step through the glass doors of the dome, a low murmur of conversation drifts through the air, mingling with the soft clinking of porcelain and silverware. The space is bathed in warm afternoon light filtering through the glass walls, illuminating the elegant setup within. Several round tables, draped in silk cloths of ivory and gold, are arranged throughout the garden, each adorned with floral centerpieces of white roses and pale blue hydrangeas. The guests, a mixture of royals and aristocrats, sit in refined postures, their elegant winter attire a dazzling display of wealth and status.

To the left, a group of young noblewomen dressed in flowing gowns of soft pastels and embroidered silk share quiet laughter, their hands gracefully resting on the rims of their teacups. Among them, a nobleman in deep green attire leans in, his sharp eyes flicking toward Felix and Hyun-Jin with interest. Further ahead, a few princes from neighboring territories lounge at a larger table, their coats adorned with embroidery and jeweled brooches denoting their houses. One of them, a tall man with striking silver hair, swirls a glass of wine idly while another, wearing deep crimson, watches the newcomers with intrigue.

The centerpiece of the gathering, however, is the dessert table. Positioned beneath a hanging arrangement of wisteria and golden fairy lights, the long table is laden with an array of decadent sweets—tiers of intricately designed macarons, fruit tarts glistening with honey glaze, and delicate sponge cakes adorned with sugared petals. A silver fountain of chocolate stands at the center, surrounded by platters of sliced strawberries, figs, and marshmallows for dipping.

At the far end of the room, a young noblewoman in a lavender gown reaches for a petit four, only to pause as the soft melody of a string quartet shifts to a new tune. The atmosphere is warm, inviting, but there’s an undeniable air of expectation as eyes discreetly turn toward Felix and Hyun-Jin. Yeji, ever unfazed, steps forward with a bright smile. “Welcome, everyone! I hope you don’t mind a few unexpected guests.” She gestures toward Felix, drawing more than a few curious glances. He straightens, suppressing the instinct to shrink under the weight of so many scrutinizing gazes. Instead, he lifts his chin slightly, offering a polite smile.

Felix barely has a chance to settle into his seat before the attention turns to him. The moment he and Hyun-Jin sit down, a nobleman in a sapphire-blue coat approaches with a charming smile. “It’s an honor to finally meet you, Prince Felix,” He says, bowing slightly. “I’ve heard much about you. I wish the best in your engagement.”

Felix offers a polite nod, feeling the weight of multiple gazes on him. Around the table, others begin shifting forward, eager to introduce themselves. Yeji, who had taken a seat beside him, is soon pulled away by a young noblewoman whispering something in her ear, and Hyun-Jin, much to Felix’s dismay, is similarly whisked away by a group of older aristocrats who seem intent on discussing matters of state.

Before he can feel stranded, Irene steps in, looping her arm through his with a bright grin. “Come on, Felix! I want to introduce you to some of my closest friends.” She leads him through the gathering with an air of excitement, her skirts brushing against the marble floors as they weave between clusters of nobles. Eventually, she stops before a group of young men lounging at a table near the dessert spread.

“Gentlemen, this is Prince Felix,” Irene announces with a flourish, her voice teasing. “Hyun-Jin’s new engagement.”

The men straighten at her words, each taking a moment to appraise him. One of them, dressed in a sleek black coat with silver embroidery, smirks as he extends a hand. “Prince Leonard of Bimdur. It’s a pleasure, Your Highness.”

Felix takes his hand briefly, nodding, before another nobleman, this one with dark curls and a striking navy ensemble, leans forward. “I’m Prince Shu of Lance. You ride quite well. I was surprised to see you on Haneul—Hyun-Jin doesn’t let just anyone near that horse.”

Before he can reply, Irene pats his shoulder lightly. “I’ll be right back—I’m going to grab drinks,” She says with a knowing grin. “Make a friend!” With that, she slips away, leaving Felix alone with the group of aristocrats, their gazes brimming with curiosity.

“I was beyond shocked to hear the news that our new prince collapsed. They also say you got a nosebleed.” The voice comes from a younger prince, his lilac-colored hair catching the light. His features are delicate, almost ethereal—an omega. “I’m Park Ji-Hoon, the second prince of Mor, by the way. You also don’t have to address me formally.”

Felix rubs the back of his neck, shifting slightly where he stands. “It’s nice to meet you too, Ji-hoon. I’m doing much better now, so there’s no need to be concerned. I was just…homesick.” He comes up with, and it’s a terrible lie. A terrible thing to say, because he’d rather live in the desert than go back home again.

“Homesick? I see.” Leonard’s voice slides into the conversation, his gaze sweeping over Felix with something unreadable—something that makes his skin prickle. “And…are you perhaps watching your figure?” He muses, tilting his head slightly. “As a male, there’s no need, but considering you’re an omega, it’s understandable.”

Felix raises an eyebrow, barely restraining the flicker of distaste tugging at his features. Ji-Hoon makes a similar face. “And what kingdom did you say you were from?”

Leonard falters, clearly thrown off by the question. His lips part, then press into a thin line, the briefest flicker of irritation crossing his face before he recovers. “Bimdur,” He answers stiffly. “An esteemed kingdom of Alphas. But really, my Prince, here in the North, we take care of ourselves. If you’re not doing well, it will become a burden for the royal family, surely, and it’s not good to burden others.”

Felix’s smile is polite, but there’s an edge to it—something firm beneath the surface. Sure, he’s right, but with all the reassurance he’s been getting, that seems false. “Well, it’s a good thing I haven’t yet.”

Prince Shu lets out a nervous laugh. “Anywho, Prince Felix, have you thought about your personal

knight?”

“A knight? Oh, that…” Felix trails off, thinking about the ones he’s interacted with so far. Chang-Bin, Seung-min, Ji-sung, Jeong-in.

Seung-min and Chang-bin—they’d be just like Min-ho. Steady, experienced, reliable. But also strict. They wouldn’t hesitate to scold him if he made a mistake, and wouldn't give him an inch of leeway if he was hiding something either. They would be dutiful, but maybe too much like a guard rather than a companion. Then there’s Jisung. He isn’t all that serious—he jokes around, gets easily distracted, and is a little careless. But he’s strong and determined when it matters. There’s a specific friendliness about him, a warmth that doesn’t make Felix feel like a delicate thing that needs to be constantly monitored. And Jeong-in… Jeong-in is serious. Dedicated, and unwavering in his forward personality.

He’s not unkind, but he’s also Irene’s brother. And if Irene holds even a sliver of resentment toward him, then Jeong-in might too. Having him as a knight could be walking on unstable ground. Felix’s fingers drum lightly against his arms as he weighs the options in his head. Then finally, his decision settles in his chest. “I think I’ll choose Han Ji-sung.”

“That airhead?” Leonard speaks up, his lips curling in clear disapproval. “He’s not a prince, but an aristocrat himself, and yet he chooses to work as a knight here. He has no sense of real duty, and he doesn’t take most things seriously—”

Felix raises an eyebrow. “And?”

Leonard blinks, caught off guard by the simple response.

Felix furrows his eyebrows. “If anything, that means he’s here because he wants to be, not because he has to. Isn’t that better? A knight who chooses to fight rather than one forced to?”

Leonard scoffs. “That’s a naive way to look at it.”

“Or maybe it’s just a different way,” Felix counters. “Besides, I’d rather have someone who can make me laugh while protecting me than someone who only treats me like an obligation.”

Ji-Hoon stifles a chuckle behind his hand, clearly enjoying the exchange. “I have to admit, that is an interesting perspective.”

Felix shrugs, unbothered. “I trust him. And that’s all that matters.”

Before Leonard can retort, a small group of elegantly dressed women approach the table, their skirts swishing as they move. Their eyes shimmer with curiosity and excitement as they settle their gazes on Felix. One of them, a lady with honey-colored hair and bright eyes, leans in slightly. “Prince Felix, will your eternal mage be visiting our kingdom this year?”

Felix blinks, caught off guard. “Eternal mage?”

“Yes—your cousin, we mean,” another woman clarifies, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “He’s quite popular among the women. He’s so handsome and sweet.”

Felix’s brows knit together in confusion before realization clicks. “You mean…Jiho?”

A chorus of delighted nods follows.

“He’s absolutely charming,” One of the women sighs dreamily. “And so powerful. A mage of his caliber is rare.”

Felix stiffens slightly, though he keeps his expression neutral. Of course, they were talking about Jiho. Who else? He shouldn’t be surprised—Jiho is always careful to maintain his perfect facade, never letting the cracks show. To them, he’s the charming, powerful eternal mage, the kind-hearted noble who always knows just what to say. He wonders, just for a moment, how they would react if they knew the truth. But he doesn’t let the thought linger. Instead, he offers a small, polite smile. “…He’ll be coming.” Unfortunately.

The women brighten instantly, their excitement bubbling over.

“Really?”

“Oh, that’s wonderful news!”

Felix doesn’t respond to that, just glances away, fingers curling against his wrist. He knows there’s no way Jiho would stay away—not when he is here, away from home. Jiho never leaves him alone for long, and when he’s with him, things begin to go wrong. Jiho always finds a way, whether through whispers behind closed doors or perfectly placed doubts. He never makes it obvious, never leaves a trace. But the result is always the same—Felix is left alone, discarded, while Jiho remains untouchable.

But not this time, hopefully. It will be different.

Hyun-Jin seems to have taken a liking to him, even though Felix never sought his favor. He had no expectations, no interest in gaining the alpha’s complete approval. His plan was simple—survive, stay out of trouble, and wear the perfect mask to keep himself in a good place.

Things have changed.

Hyun-Jin’s attention isn’t something he can ignore. Not when it lingers, follows, and grows. He steps in when he wavers, holding his gaze like he’s searching for something beneath the surface. It’s unsettling—unnerving, and yet, it’s caring in the way he needs. If Hyun-Jin’s favor means security, means a shield against whatever storms lie ahead, then he'll do what he must and gain his complete favor. However, he still has to watch out for those who want his position expelled. (And it won’t be easy, surely, when there are so many things that could go wrong. So many things that can make him sink into a space he can’t get out of, worsen his condition, and trigger faults he’s tried hard to abandon.)

Eventually, Hyun-Jin finally breaks free from the crowd, appearing at his side with a plate of food in hand. “I figured you haven’t eaten yet,” Hyun-Jin says, handing the plate to him. His voice is calm, but there’s an unmistakable fondness in the way he looks at Felix.

Felix blinks in surprise, warmth spreading through him. “Oh—thank you.”

Hyun-Jin gives him a small nod, but before he can say anything else, someone calls for him from across the room. He exhales sharply, clearly reluctant to leave, but with one last glance at Felix, he’s pulled back into the crowd.

Felix watches him go before turning his gaze toward the lively gathering around him. He isn’t in the mood to keep up appearances while eating. He excuses himself from the group and moves toward one of the benches on the outer edges of the garden, settling down away from everyone else. He picks at his food slowly, savoring the brief moment of peace. But that peace doesn’t last long.

As soon as he wills himself to swallow a spoonful of garnished pasta, Irene, having peeked her head around the corner—clearly searching for someone—spots him and her eyes light up. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing here eating alone?” She plops down on the bench.

Felix sets down his utensil, suddenly losing his appetite. He can eat later—that’s fine, isn’t it? Min-ho wouldn’t necessarily know. He didn’t throw up breakfast, and now he’s not purposely skipping lunch, but it can’t be helped. He’ll just have to eat later. “I just wanted to see the garden more,” Felix makes an excuse.

Irene hums, clearly not convinced but not pushing the matter. “Well, I thought you’d enjoy the company more than sitting alone,” She says with a playful lilt, swinging her legs slightly. “Besides, everyone’s been dying to talk to you. You’ve caught quite a bit of attention, you know. I’m almost jealous.”

He offers her a small, polite smile. “I suppose that was bound to happen.”

Irene nudges him lightly with her elbow. “Come on, you don’t have to sound so stiff with me. We’re friends no?”

“…yes, of course.”

“Exactly!” Irene smiles wide. She shifts slightly, turning so she’s facing him fully. She tilts her head ever so slightly, studying him like he’s a puzzle she’s determined to solve. “You and Hyun-Jin looked quite comfortable together earlier,” She remarks, her voice light, but there’s something hard underneath it. Something pointed.

“We rode together, that’s all. It was..nice.”

Irene hums, watching him carefully. “Just nice? No special moments? No stolen glances?” She tilts her head. “No lingering touches?”

Felix clenches his jaw, forcing himself to stay neutral. “I don’t know what you’re trying to imply.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I’m just curious. You are his soon-to-be husband, after all.” Felix knows that tone. It’s sweet on the surface, but there’s an edge to it, a bitterness that she’s trying to keep hidden. Irene leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “So? Do you like him?”

Felix stiffens, grip tightening on his fork. “Why do you ask?”

Her lashes flutter as she feigns innocence. “I just want to know how you feel about him. If you’ve grown fond of him. If…” She pauses, then laughs softly. “If you’ve kissed yet.”

Felix nearly chokes on air. “What?”

Irene giggles, delighted. “Oh, come on, you’re to be married! It’s a fair question.”

Felix rubs his temple. “No, It’s a nosy question. Awfully…personal.”

Irene props her chin in her hand, ignoring that. “So, you don’t like him?”

“I…” Felix hesitates just a fraction too long. Irene’s grin widens.

“Oh, you do like him.”

Felix scowls. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to,” She shrugs, smiling as if she’s just making harmless conversation. “Still people will ask. They’ll wonder what kind of bond you two share. It’s only natural.”

Felix studies her. The way her fingers curl slightly against her dress in suppressed frustration. He may not know the full depth of her feelings for Hyun-Jin, but he knows enough. “Nothing has happened,” He says again.

Irene exhales. “I see.” She straightens, smoothing down the front of her dress. “Well, I suppose you still have time to win him over, then.” Felix doesn’t miss the slight strain in her voice, the flicker of something unreadable in her expression. He watches as she rises gracefully to her feet.

“Do you want to go for another ride? Yeji asked me to show you the enchanted forest nearby. It’s likely different from the ones you’ve seen so far.”

Felix lifts his gaze to her, studying the way she keeps her posture poised, her smile perfectly in place. The tension from their conversation still lingers, but she masks it well. “The enchanted forest?” He echoes, tapping his fingers against the table. “I didn’t know there was one nearby.”

Irene tilts her head, strands of her golden hair catching the light. “It’s not well-known outside of the kingdom,” She says lightly. “Yeji thought you might appreciate seeing something new.” She pauses, then adds, “Hyun-Jin is still occupied, so it’d just be us. Is that okay?”

Felix knows she’s watching for his reaction, waiting to see if he’ll hesitate. He considers his options carefully. Part of him wants to stay right here, away from prying questions and veiled intentions. But another part—the part that knows it would be unwise to make an enemy of her so soon—tells him to play along. After a moment, he pushes his plate away. “Alright,” He says, standing. “Let’s go.”

Irene’s smile widens, satisfaction flickering behind her eyes. She holds out a hand, gesturing for him to follow her to the horses. “This way,” She says, voice as smooth as silk. There are two parts of our enchanted Forest. The enchanted side, of course, and then the cursed side. So certain places in the forest are off limits, and we have to be careful and make the trip quick.”

-.-.-

The deeper they go into the forest, the denser the trees become, their thick canopies weaving together like a curtain blocking out the sky. Sunlight fades, swallowed by the looming branches, and an eerie stillness settles over the path. Felix keeps close behind Irene’s horse, Hanuel’s hooves crunching softly against the damp earth, the sound oddly amplified in the quiet. He doesn’t know what he expected from an enchanted forest, but there’s something undeniably strange about the air here—something hushed, as if the trees themselves are holding their breath.

About three minutes in, flickers of light begin to appear along the trunks, small glowing orbs embedded in the bark like tiny stars trapped within the wood. They pulse softly, casting faint golden halos that stretch into the dark. At first, Felix mistakes them for reflections, maybe a trick of his eyes adjusting to the dimness, but then he sees them moving—gliding along the branches, shifting between trees. Fireflies. Hundreds of them, floating through the air like scattered embers from an unseen flame. Irene glances over her shoulder, catching the way his gaze follows the glowing insects. She smiles, then steps off her horse, gesturing toward the forest floor.

“Look closely,” she says.

Felix follows, eyes scanning the undergrowth. At first, all he sees is a tangle of moss and fallen leaves, but then, tucked between the roots of an ancient oak, a soft luminescence catches his attention. His breath hitches.

Flowers.

They glow like moonlight, their petals shifting between shades of blue and silver as if reflecting the sky that the trees have hidden. Felix reaches out without thinking, fingers brushing against the velvety surface of one. A faint shimmer trails from the point of contact, sparkling like dust disturbed in the air. “They’re called Lunar Blossoms,” Irene explains. “They only bloom at night, and their glow fades if you pluck them.”

Felix hums in fascination, straightening up. “I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

“There’s more,” she promises.

She leads him farther in, past twisted roots and vines that coil along the ground like sleeping serpents. Soon, they reach a clearing where a pond stretches out before them, its surface an undisturbed sheet of black glass. But as Felix steps closer, he notices something moving beneath the water—lilies, their petals curling and uncurling in slow, hypnotic motions. They glow faintly, just like the flowers from before, but their movements feel unnatural.

“Careful,” Irene warns, voice quiet. “They’re not just for show.”

Felix frowns, watching as one of the lilies lifts from the water ever so slightly, its stem stretching unnaturally long. It sways, almost like it’s… reaching.

“They’ll drag you in if you get too close,” She adds, crossing her arms. “They sense warmth. The moment you touch the water, they think you’re prey.”

Felix takes a cautious step back, and she chuckles. “C'mon, let’s go look for the fairies now. They’re a little near the border of the dangerous parts of the Forest, but we should be okay. I’ll guide you from behind, so you can get the first look. They get scared easily and I’ve seen them multiple times.”

Fairies? That certainly piques his interest. He clicks his tongue, nudging Haneul into a slow trot, and Irene falls in line behind him. “So, fairies…” He muses. “Are they unsightly little creatures or are they actually pretty like the ones in fairy tales?”

Irene hums. “It depends on which kind you find, but it’s a mix of both. Their peculiar creatures, small, big. Ugly. Beautiful. Tall. Short. You know, they can vary.”

“That’s amazing,” Felix says in awe. In the Sunshine Kingdom, there are no fairies. There are magical beasts, however, but many are dangerous. “Are we almost there?”

“Yes, almost. It’s just a few steps more. There’s one other thing—there are some evil fairies.” Irene smiles. “They look completely different from the normal ones. Just beware as they’re very territorial. You can usually tell from their behavior. I don’t think we’ll run into any here though.”

“I assumed that. You said all types right? I’ll be careful. Do you know if they live in small doll houses? Like a private civilization?”

Silence.

Felix waits for her to answer, expecting some teasing remark or a bit of folklore to go along with the reveal, but nothing comes. He glances over his shoulder, and—

Irene is gone.

Felix’s stomach drops.

His hands tighten around the reins, heart pounding as he slows Haneul to a stop. The forest behind him is empty, just the thick press of trees and the occasional flicker of fireflies. Irene had been there—he had heard her voice, felt her presence just moments ago.

A chill runs down his spine.

“Irene?” He calls out, his voice cutting through the stillness.

A breeze stirs the leaves overhead, rustling through the branches like whispered laughter. The fireflies blink erratically, their glow casting odd, shifting patterns on the trees. Felix swallows, glancing around. Did she turn off the path? Fall behind? Or, did she leave him while he was distracted? She wouldn’t have just disappeared—not on purpose in a dangerous area like this. Right?

Felix shakes his head. No. He’s not going to jump to conclusions. He clicks his tongue and nudges Haneul forward, retracing his steps, and scanning the darkened tree line. “Irene, this isn’t funny,” He calls, irritation creeping into his tone. His nerves are fraying fast, his pulse quickening with every unanswered call. Still, nothing. The thick canopy overhead blocks out most of the sky, the setting sun barely slipping through. The deeper he looks into the woods, the more unsettling they become—the trees gnarled and twisted, the path less defined. Felix grips the reins tighter. “Haneul, let’s go back.”

But as he pulls at the reins, a soft chime—like distant bells—echoes through the air. It’s delicate, almost musical. Then another. And another. The sound surrounds him, weaving through the trees, growing closer. And suddenly, the fireflies aren’t fireflies anymore. The bugs that once floated so lazily now flicker erratically, their lights flashing in an uneven rhythm. Tiny glowing figures flit between the branches, their lights twinkling like stars. Some dart closer, revealing small, humanoid shapes with translucent wings that shimmer in the dim light.

Fairies.

Felix exhales slowly, watching with fond eyes at the beauty, but the wonder is short-lived.

A sharp giggle rings out—high-pitched, eerie. Then another. The fairies stop moving, their glowing eyes fixed on him.

Something isn’t right.

And then, all at once, they start to circle.

Felix tries to turn back the way he came—or at least, the way he thinks he came. But the path looks different now, and the trees are shapeshifting—like an illusion. Had they gone left at that garbled trunk? Or had they passed that overgrown root?

Haneul rears back with a sharp, distressed whine. Felix barely has time to react before something cold and smooth coils around his ankles, yanking him downward. Glowing vines. They slither up his legs, their iridescent glow pulsating like a heartbeat. Panic surges through him as Haneul thrashes, trying to shake off the vines that are now curling around his hooves. Felix grips the saddle, trying to steady the panicked horse. “Haneul, it’s gonna be okay—”

A harsh tug.

His balance shifts.

The next thing he knows, he’s hitting the ground hard, the breath knocking out of his lungs. Haneul lets out a loud, frantic cry before the vines release him, sending him bolting into the dark. Felix groans, forcing himself to get up quickly despite the pain in his limbs. His knees sting from the fall, his palms scraping against the rough floor. He turns toward the fading sound of hooves, but it’s too late. His horse is gone, and his heart pounds against his ribs as he whips around, trying to get his bearings. The fairies are still there, hovering like silent watchers, their light casting long, eerie shadows against the trees. But the vines—they aren’t reaching for him anymore.

They’re herding him.

Felix stumbles back, his breathing uneven. The ground beneath his feet changes from packed dirt to something looser, more unstable. His heel meets nothing but air. A cliff. His stomach flips as he tries to catch himself, arms flailing. He shifts his weight forward, desperate to regain balance, but the edge crumbles beneath him.

And then—

He’s falling.

Felix curses to himself.

-.-.-

The party had begun to wind down, with nobles and aristocrats trickling out of the gazebo in small groups, murmuring their goodbyes. Servants moved swiftly to clear tables, the remnants of a lavish meal being swept away under the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. Hyun-Jin hadn’t been paying much attention to the idle chatter around him. His mind had been elsewhere, his eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. Felix had excused himself earlier to eat alone, but that had been well over two hours ago and it was starting to get late. He hasn’t seen him since. A faint crease formed between Hyun-Jin’s brows.

Yeji had returned to his side at some point, following his gaze before raising an eyebrow. “You’re looking for Felix?”

“Yeah, I’ve been looking for ten minutes now. Do you possibly know…?”

She hums, thoughtful. “He probably just needed some space. A lot of people were overwhelming him. But, he could also be out in the Forest with Irene still—I told her to give him a tour of the enchanted side. The safe parts, of course.”

Hyun-Jin didn't respond, and something about it didn’t sit right with him. The prince was reserved, yes, but he wouldn’t just disappear for this long without at least letting someone know. They should’ve been back. So where was Irene? She—

“Princess Yang!” Someone gasps suddenly.

Hyun-Jin’s head snapped toward the sound just in time to see Irene stumbling into the clearing, her dress torn at the hem, leaves tangled in her once-perfect hair. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she reaches them. “Prince Felix—” Her voice cracks, raw with panic. “H-He—he’s gone!”

“I—I tried to stop him,” She sobs, clutching at Yeji’s arm as if her legs would give out beneath her. “He wanted to see the fairies—I told him they were dangerous, but he insisted! And how could I deny him? He rode ahead of me, and then he was just… gone. I looked everywhere, I swear, but I couldn’t find him! Haneul ran past me somewhere but Felix wasn’t with him.”

A hush fell over the nobles still lingering in the clearing. Concerned murmurs rose among them, but Hyun-Jin barely registered the noise. His body went rigid, eyes narrowing at Irene’s trembling form. Yeji kneels down next to her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “The fairies? They aren’t remotely safe to be around. Why were you near that area—matter fact—Where did you last see him there?”

“Well, we were in the enchanted forest like you said to go,” Irene sniffles, wiping at her wet cheeks.

Hyun-Jin grabs Irene’s wrist, yanking her up with little care for her delicate state. “We know you both were there already, but which part of the Forest? There are too many fairy dens.” His voice is tight, unwavering, demanding an immediate answer.

Irene gasps, caught off guard by his intensity. Her wide, tear-filled eyes flicker with something else—surprise, maybe even disbelief. “H-Hyunjin, please,” She stammers, hesitating for a fraction of a second before clutching at his arm. She shakes her head wildly as if she can’t bear to talk about it. “I—I need to go to the infirmary. I was so scared, I rode all the way back—”

“I understand, and someone else will take you.” He cuts her off, his grip tightening. “But you need to tell me where. It’s getting dark, and if the cursed monsters start coming out—” Hyun-Jin inhales sharply. “Please, try to remember.”

Her lips part, but no words come out. It was as if she were processing something, trying to make sense of the urgency in his voice, the edge of desperation lining his expression. She had never seen Hyun-Jin react like this to anything before—let alone for someone else.

For Felix.

She falters, shoulders tensing, but when she realizes he isn’t going to let up, she exhales shakily and gives in. “Near the south border between the enchanted and cursed forest,” She finally mutters. “So…by the cliffside.”

Hyun-Jin let go of her as if she were nothing more than a passing thought, already moving before she could say anything else. His heart pounded, his thoughts racing faster than his feet. If Felix had fallen—if he was hurt—No. He’s fine. It’s not completely the evening yet—they still have time to find him.

Irene watched him go, rubbing her wrist where his grip had lingered, her mind racing in circles.

He cared  for that Prince.

Far more than she had expected.

(So after a beat, she cried harder.)

Chapter Text

Felix’s head throbs, a deep, relentless pounding that echoes through his skull. Warm, sticky blood slides down his forehead, pooling over his eyelid and blurring his vision. He blinks sluggishly, trying to clear it, but the world remains a hazy blur of shadows and darkness. His limbs ache—his arms, his legs, every inch of him pulses with a dull, bruising pain. But his back—it’s worse. Stiff, strained, as if something inside has twisted wrong. He sucks in a shaky breath, wincing as a sharp sting flares along his ribs, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it. Gritting his teeth, he forces himself on his butt, muscles screaming in protest. The ground beneath him is damp and uneven, covered in moss and broken twigs that jut out like traps waiting to ensnare him.

Where is he?

His breath hitches, heart pounding in his chest. Haneul—he has to find Haneul. And Irene—where did she go? If she didn’t truly leave him, did she get caught too? Is she okay?

Swallowing against the nausea creeping up his throat, he blinks into the darkness, forcing himself to focus. He needs to figure out where he is before anything else. The air is thick, cold, and clings to his skin like a second layer. Only looming blackness. Felix wills himself to steady his breath, the scent of wet earth and something bitter filling his lungs. Around him, towering trees stretch toward the sky, their branches split off and twist like skeletal fingers. Unlike the enchanting glow of the forest he had ridden into, this part is darker, the bioluminescent vines barely casting enough light to see beyond a few feet.

It's far more menacing than the initial Forrest he saw. The foliage above is so dense that the moonlight barely filters through, leaving the entire space bathed in an eerie, suffocating gloom. Felix sways slightly, his vision swimming as he glances behind him. (Did he get a concussion?) A steep, jagged slope stretches upward, confirming what he already suspects—he fell. He must have slipped off the cliff, tumbling past the border between the enchanted forest and…whatever this place is. A low mist curls at his ankles, thick and unnatural, shifting as if it has a mind of its own. The usual hum of life—the chirping of insects, the rustling of small creatures—is absent.

All the more sign that he needs to get out of here.

Felix braces his hands against the ground, his body aching as he pushes himself upright. Just as he manages to get to his knees, however, a soft rustling reaches his ears.

He stills.

From the thick brush ahead, something stirs. A pair of small, pointed ears peek through the foliage, followed by a delicate snout. Then, a creature steps forward—a fox, no bigger than a kitten, with impossibly large, glossy eyes and oversized paws. Its fur is a soft, silky silver, its tail fluffier than anything Felix has ever seen. It looks at him curiously, tilting its head as if assessing him.

Felix exhales, tension bleeding from his muscles. It’s…adorable, he won’t lie. “Hey, little guy,” He murmurs, reaching out slightly.

The fox blinks at him innocently, but what happens next is anything but that. Its body twitches, convulses, and stretches unnaturally. Its soft fur darkens, shifting into something formless, like a  liquid black shadow. Its eyes, once wide and endearing, hollow out into glowing, vacant voids. Its mouth splits open, revealing far too many jagged teeth. The delicate paws he admired only moments ago elongate into clawed limbs that dig into the earth.

Felix’s breath catches.

A low, guttural growl rumbles from its throat, and in an instant, it lunges.

Felix scrambles back, his palms skidding against the mossy ground as he barely dodges the snapping jaws. His heart pounds against his ribs, adrenaline surging through his veins.

Felix almost screams when a deep, echoing voice cuts through the heavy air—calm, but laced with something unearthly. “Quiet.”

His breath hitches and his heart hammers against his ribs as he presses himself against a boulder behind him, eyes darting wildly in search of the voice’s source. The monstrous fox looms before him, its body still shifting like a living shadow, its glowing void-like eyes locked onto him. Yet—it doesn’t move to attack again.

“I won’t hurt you.”

Felix swallows hard, still poised to flee, but the words give him pause. The voice—low and reverberating like it’s coming from all around him—doesn’t hold any immediate malice. His fingers dig into the earth as he steadies his breathing. “You—You spoke?”

The creature tilts its head, those empty eyes unblinking. “I did.”

Felix’s stomach twists. He’s alone in an unfamiliar, cursed part of the forest, his body aching from the fall, blood still wet on his skin, and now he’s being addressed by a beast that shouldn’t be able to talk. He should be terrified. He is terrified. But more than that—he’s wary. Cautiously, he inches back more, muscles tense and ready to bolt at the first sign of aggression—as if the lunge toward him wasn’t dangerous enough. “What…are you?”

The fox—or whatever it is—takes another forward, its form flickering like fire, shifting between its small, harmless appearance and the monstrous one. “I’m called Grimace. I am what you see.”

Felix flinches as the creature laughs, the sound reverberating like an eerie wind through the trees.

“Are you…going to kill me?”

“I don’t kill humans, but that doesn’t mean others won’t.” It says as if the very thought is amusing.

Felix doesn’t find it funny. His breath is still uneven, his limbs aching from the fall, and yet, the fox—this strange, shifting entity—simply lets out a sigh before its monstrous form shrinks back down. The shadows retract, its fur lightens, and within seconds, the terrifying beast is once again a small, silver fox with oversized paws. Before he can fully process the transformation, the fox trots toward him, stepping delicately over the mossy ground. He tenses, unsure whether to push it away or stay still. But then it settles—warm and oddly solid—in his lap, its fluffy tail curling around itself like this is the most natural thing in the world.

“Never mind that, though. What are you doing here, human?”

Felix exhales sharply, glancing around the darkened forest as if realizing all over again that he’s utterly, hopelessly lost. He swallows, throat dry. “I….” He hesitates, debating whether to explain the full story—how he was led here, how he fell, how Irene left him—but something about Grimace makes him wary. He’s not sure what this creature is, what it wants, or if it can even be trusted. “I was in the enchanted forest,” He finally says, voice low. “And then I…fell.”

The creature hums—or at least, makes a noise that resembles humming. “Unlucky,” It muses, tail flicking. “You must’ve fallen past the border.”

“The border?”

“Yes. Between the enchanted forest and the cursed one. You crossed into my domain.”

Felix’s stomach twists. He figured so. It’s been one thing after another, after all, and he’s getting quite tired of acting like he’s okay with it all. He lets out a shaky breath, resisting the urge to laugh at his own misfortune. He presses a hand to his forehead, grimacing at the sticky warmth of his own blood. “Just my luck.” He tries to wipe it away, but before he can, Grimace shifts in his lap. The fox lifts its head, its soft, wet nose pressing against Felix’s skin. Then, to his shock, it licks the wound.

Felix stiffens. “Hey—!”

“Quiet,” Grimace murmurs, the word vibrating through the air like an echo. His tongue laps over the cut again, slow and gentle, as if trying to soothe the pain. Felix can’t decide if he should shove him away or let it continue. The warmth of its body against his lap is oddly grounding, and despite everything—despite the eerie way it shifts between forms, despite the strange, deep voice coming from such a small creature—its actions don’t feel threatening. Still, he sighs. “You don’t have to do that,” He mutters. It’s unsanitary, is what he doesn’t say.

Grimace ignores him, licks once more, then settles his head against Felix’s thigh. His fluffy tail flicks. “It’s not safe here, It’s getting dark. You shouldn’t stay in the cursed forest after sundown it’s.”

Felix frowns, glancing up at the sky—or at least, what little he can see of it through the thick, gnarled trees. “How late is it?” He asks, suddenly uneasy.

“It’s almost seven, you fell three hours ago.” Grimace says, stretching his paws out before hoping off him. “I’ve been watching you since you arrived. Making sure no one bothered you.”

Felix stills. He isn’t sure what unsettles him more—that he’s been lying here, injured and vulnerable, for three hours without realizing it, or that Grimace has been watching him the entire time. “Why go that far? You’re…a monster. There’s no need to look after me, but it seems I’m lucky you’re not here to eat my flesh.”

“And yet, being a monster doesn’t make me entirely mean. I already said I won’t hurt you.” Grimace narrows his big eyes. “Not to mention, for a child of the sun, you seem so…dim. Where has your light gone?”

Felix stares at Grimace, his mind racing. Child of the sun? The words stick to him like honey, thick and heavy with meaning he can’t quite grasp. His kingdom, the Sunshine Kingdom, known for its warmth, its golden fields, and endless light—has never spoken of that. His lips part, but before he can question it, Grimace shifts, standing on his large paws.

“It’s nothing,” The fox says dismissively. “Let us move. I’ll try to guide you back to the enchanted forest from here, but as you can see, you’ve fallen a level lower.”

How far is the border?” He asks, pushing himself up with a wince. His back protests, his limbs sluggish from lying in one position too long.

“Far enough that you won’t reach it alone before nightfall.”

Felix exhales sharply, frustration bubbling in his chest. He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t like feeling lost, or vulnerable, or at the mercy of something he doesn’t understand.

But what choice does he have?

With a resigned nod, he wipes the remaining blood from his eye. “Then lead the way, Grimace.”

And he does.

After about thirty minutes, though—when Felix thinks they’re going in circles because every area looks the same—Grimace suddenly halts, his small body going rigid. His ears twitch, nose wrinkling as he sniffs the air. Felix, lost in his thoughts about their seemingly endless trek through the cursed forest, nearly stumbles into him.

“Crouch,” Grimace murmurs, his voice eerily serious.

Felix blinks. “What—”

“Now.”

Something in his tone sends a jolt through Felix’s body, and he drops into a crouch without question. The forest, already unnervingly silent, seems to press in on them, the air thick with something unseen but undeniably present. Felix shifts his weight, trying to peer through the trees when a figure materializes in the darkness ahead. At first, it’s just a shape—tall, imposing, draped in ragged, ancient armor. Then, the details emerge, and Felix’s blood turns to ice.

A horse. A massive, black stallion stands in the clearing, its breath misting in the cold air. Upon its back sits a rider. A knight. But something is horribly, horribly wrong.

It has no head, or rather, its head is slit from its neck and is hanging by a thread.

Felix’s breath stutters. His eyes dart downward, taking in the horrifying sight of human bones—femurs, finger joints, ribs—all strung together like medals around its neck, rattling softly as it shifts atop his mount. A long, rusted sword rests at the horseman’s hip, its blade stained dark with what Felix knows is dried blood.

And then the smell hits him.

Rotting flesh. Metallic blood. The stench of death itself clings to the air like an oppressive fog, making his stomach churn. He clenches his jaw, forcing himself to stay still, to breathe as quietly as possible. Grimace, still in his small fox form, presses low against the ground beside him. His large eyes flick to Felix, warning sharp in their depths. Don’t move. Don’t even breathe too loudly.

Felix doesn’t.

The headless rider lingers for a moment longer, its horse shifting as though sensing something in the air. Felix doesn’t dare move, his heart pounding so loudly he swears it’ll give them away. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the monstrous figure tugs at its reins, turning its steed away. The clinking of bones fades into the darkness, swallowed by the dense trees until nothing remains but the thick, putrid stench in its wake.

Felix exhales shakily. “What was that?” He whispers.

Grimace doesn’t answer. Instead, he flicks his tail and nudges Felix’s leg urgently. “Move,” He says, voice low. There’s no teasing in Grimace’s tone now, no hint of his earlier amusement. “We need to go. Now. Your presence alone attracts monsters like prey to predators.”

A shiver runs down Felix’s spine. “Because I’m human? What does that even mean?”

“It means you don’t belong here,” Grimace says firmly. “And the forest knows it.” He gestures with his snout, urging Felix forward. “That knight was just the beginning, and you’re lucky it didn’t notice you. The cursed ones haven’t awakened completely yet—but they will. And if you’re still here when they do…”

Felix doesn’t need him to finish. The urgency in Grimace’s voice is enough. He nods once and forces his shaking legs to move, quickening his pace as they continue through the twisted maze of trees. Eventually, they spot a faint shimmer of growing light ahead—the border between the cursed and enchanted forest. His legs ache, his head pounds, and the dried blood on his forehead itches, but he pushes forward. Just as they reach it, voices filter through the trees, distant but growing closer.

Grimace stops abruptly, ears twitching. “Stay here,” He says, his voice softer than before. “Someone will find you soon.”

Felix feels panic bubbling in his chest. “Wait—stay until then,” He pleads. “I don’t want to be alone.” But when he glances down, the fox is gone. As he turns in search of him, a whisper drifts through the trees, carried by the wind—soft, yet resonant, wrapping around him like a gentle embrace.

“You’ll never be alone, child of the sun.”

Then—

“PRINCE FELIX!!”

The desperate shout tears through the silence, yanking him back to reality. His head snaps toward the voice, his chest tightening. He doesn’t have time to process anything before the crashing of footsteps grows louder, twigs snapping under hurried movement. The scent of pine and damp earth is overshadowed by something familiar—something safe.

Then, a figure bursts through the tree line. Wide eyes frantically search the area before they land on Felix, and the owner of them—Seung-min—freezes. “My prince?”

Felix nods, before curling his fingers around his arms tightly, looking away for a reason he doesn’t even know. Is it the embarrassment of being found like this? Shame for this situation? Fear for worrying them again so quickly? Or Dread for accepting Irene’s offer initially? Before he can open his lips to try to explain, Seung-min is kneeling down and putting a cloak over him.

He scans his face, and when he sees blood his eyes widen. Seung-min inhales sharply, his fingers twitching where they grip the cloak. “You’re hurt,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper but thick with concern.

Felix belatedly realizes how cold he is, how the sting of his wound has dulled under the weight of exhaustion. He doesn’t react when Seung-min reaches out, tilting his chin to examine the cut at his temple. His touch is careful but firm, his gaze concerned with something deep. Then, without another word, he alerts all those nearby that he’s found him. The rustling of branches and hurried voices grow louder, cutting through the thick silence of the forest. More footsteps—urgent, uneven—pound against the damp earth, the flickering glow of torches breaking through the darkness. The moment feels suspended, stretching unbearably, until—

“Felix!”

The desperate call sends a shiver down his spine, snapping his head toward the source. He barely has time to take a breath before someone barrels through the trees.

Hyun-Jin.

Felix stiffens, pressing his arms tighter around himself. His throat closes up, another mess of emotions crashing into him all at once. Regret. Relief. It’s overwhelming, suffocating. Hyun-Jin doesn’t hesitate. The second his gaze lands on Felix, he’s moving—crossing the distance in quick, hurried strides. His hands come up, gripping Felix’s shoulders tightly, his breath uneven. Hyun-jin inspects him like a worried mother fussing over their child, eyes sweeping over every detail—every scrape, every bruise, every bit of dirt clinging to his skin. His gaze darkens when he sees the blood smeared across Felix’s temple, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to reach out but doesn’t know where to start. The look in his eyes grows more sullen with each passing second.

Despite it all, Felix forces a weak smile, trying to assure him of something that isn’t true. “I’m fine, don’t worry too much.” But his back aches like something is deeply wrong, his legs shake beneath him, and his voice trembles as he speaks. He shouldn’t be so scared after being found, but—

Hyun-jin exhales sharply, jaw tight. “Don’t lie to me, please. You are not okay. You’re bleeding, you’re shaking, I’m sure you didn’t eat, and—and you were gone for over four hours.”

Felix’s throat tightens. His gaze drops to the ground, and all he can manage is a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

Hyun-jin’s frown deepens, his concern only growing. “Stop apologizing,” He mutters, softer this time. “You don’t owe anyone one.”

Felix quiets. There’s nothing more he can say—not when his chest feels so heavy, not when his body aches like it’s barely holding itself together. Wordlessly, Hyun-jin moves. Before he can even protest, strong arms lift him from the ground, careful but firm. He doesn’t fight it. He doesn’t have the strength to. The next thing he knows, he’s being settled onto a horse—not Haneul, but Jangmi.

He grips the saddle weakly, blinking down at the unfamiliar steed. Did Haneul make it back safely? The thought barely has time to settle before Hyun-jin is climbing up behind him, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him.

Around him, he sees Seung-min, of course, then similarly—Ji-sung, Jeong-in, and everyone else close to him. Beyond them, more figures stand, some holding torches, others gripping the reins of their horses, eyes scanning the darkened forest. A search party—At least thirty knights, armored and alert, their presence a reminder of just how serious this was. Just how much concern he’s caused.

Felix swallows, guilt twisting deep in his gut. He wants to tell them that they don’tdidn’t need to go through all this, but he knows Hyun-jin won’t have it. None of them will. And logically, they did need to do all this. He was trapped in the forest, after all, and—how will he explain what happened? His mind is a blur of memories—glowing vines, fairies, the endless fall, the cursed forest, Grimace.

Felix barely lasts five minutes before exhaustion takes him under. His body sags, head lolling forward against Hyun-jin’s chest, breaths evening out despite the uncomfortable sway of the horse. Hyun-jin feels it instantly—the way Felix melts into him, completely worn out. His grip tightens just slightly, securing him in place. Seung-min rides up beside them, gaze flickering toward Felix before looking to Hyun-jin. “Do you want me to take him? You’ve worked hard enough today.”

Hyun-jin doesn’t hesitate. “No,” He says with fondness in his voice. “I’ve got him.”

Seung-min studies him for a second before nodding and falling back. Hyun-jin smiles to himself, adjusting his hold, and instinctively draws Felix closer, shielding him from the cool night air.

-.-

Felix eventually stirs, his senses sluggish as he blinks back into awareness. His head throbs dully, but there’s something soft pressing against it—a bandage, carefully wrapped. He shifts, and It takes him a second to realize where he is—laid across a couch. The dim glow of candlelight flickers against the walls of a foyer room, casting long shadows. The air smells faintly of herbs, likely from whatever ointment was used on his wounds.

“You’re finally awake, hmm?”

Felix’s head whips toward the voice—Hyun-Jin, of course. “Oh.” His voice comes out quiet, a little hoarse. “I was a little exhausted from…” He pauses, his thoughts catching on the memory of glowing eyes in the dark, of a voice echoing inside his skull. He shakes his head quickly, knowing he can’t tell Hyun-jin a beast spoke to him. “I’m sor—I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He quickly corrects himself, following Hyun-jin's words earlier.

“It’s okay,” Hyun-jin says, voice softer now. He’s seated beside the couch, watching him closely, his gaze scanning over him like he’s searching for something unsaid. “I’m sure you were exhausted. Are you able to tell me what happened?”

Felix hesitates. He doesn’t even know where to begin. “…What did she tell you?” He asks instead. Depending on her version of events, this situation might already be stacked against him. And knowing Irene, she may have twisted the story to make it seem like his fault entirely.

Hyun-jin frowns slightly. “It doesn’t matter what she told me—I want to hear your side. What we do know is that it was reckless of her to take you there the way she did, and she’ll be reprimanded appropriately.”

Felix exhales, bracing himself. “Irene told me Yeji wanted her to show me the enchanted forest, so I agreed. I had fun, but eventually, she said we could go see the fairies since they were nearby. At that point, she told me to walk ahead since she’d seen them before, and she…Left me?” Felix winces at how it sounds. “I don’t know—we might have gotten separated at some point.” Felix pauses, his fingers tightening in his lap. “But after that, I ran into some fairies, and vines grabbed me and Haneul. He was able to get away, luckily, but I couldn’t. When I tried, I ended up falling somewhere and losing consciousness.” He hesitates, unsure if he should say the next part. It sounds ridiculous—even to him. His gaze flickers to Hyun-jin, whose expression remains unreadable, waiting for him to continue. “After that…I was luckily able to make it back myself.”

Hyun-jin exhales, some of the tension in his shoulders easing now that Felix has finally told him everything. He presses his fingers against his temple, eyes flickering with restrained frustration, but when he looks at Felix again, it’s not anger that lingers—just relief. “You could have died,” He says, voice quiet but firm. “I’m just thankful you’re okay.”

Felix swallows, the warmth in Hyun-jin’s voice catching him off guard. He watches as Hyun-jin sits back slightly, his hand dragging down his face. “I’ll deal with Irene,” He says finally, voice colder now. “She had no right to leave you behind. I’ll have Yeji speak with her too, because her story isn’t adding up now. If she wants to drag someone into her mess, she should at least have the guts to face it.”

Felix nods slowly, feeling the weight of everything settle in his chest. He knows Hyun-jin means it—there won’t be any brushing this aside. “But…is she okay?”

Hyun-jin blinks, caught off guard. He studies Felix for a moment, searching his face as if trying to understand why—after everything—he still has it in him to worry about Irene. “You’re asking if she’s okay?” Hyun-jin’s voice is laced with disbelief. His brows furrow, frustration flickering in his expression.

Felix looks down, fingers curling in his lap. He doesn’t even know why he’s taking up after her when she’s clearly made her intentions poor for him. “I just…I don’t know. Whether she left me or got scared off, I still don’t want anything bad to happen to her. I’m glad she made it back safely,”

Hyun-jin watches him for a moment longer before sighing, his frustration giving way to something closer to fond exasperation. “You really are too kind for your own good.” His voice is quieter now, softer. “But don’t let that kindness excuse what she did. She doesn’t deserve your concern.”

Felix doesn’t argue. He just nods, but the worry still lingers in his expression. Hyun-jin notices—of course he does—but he doesn’t push it further. “I already tended to your visible wounds,” He says, his voice gentler now. “But if you need further attention in other areas, it’s best we go to Minho.”

Felix hesitates for only a moment before murmuring, “My back hurts a little, but it’s not that serious. My head is better too.”

Hyun-jin’s expression tightens with clear hesitation in his gaze. He wants to press, that much is obvious, but after a brief moment, he lets out a slow breath and nods. “Alright,” he says, though it doesn’t sound like he fully believes him. “If it gets worse, we’re going straight to Minho.”

Felix nods, and Hyun-jin studies him for a moment longer before stepping back. “Go freshen up,” He instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Once you’re finished, please meet me in my room.”

“Your room?” Felix sits up further, raising his eyebrow. He’s been in Hyun-Jin’s room so many times now that it’s starting to become normal.

“Yes, my room.” His voice is calm but firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “Would you sleep with me today?”

Felix blinks. “What?”

Hyun-jin steps closer, the warmth of his palm cupping Felix’s cheek as he tilts his head up. His touch is gentle, but his eyes gleam with something almost amused. “Sleep. With. Me.” He enunciates each word slowly like Felix might not have heard him the first time.

Felix’s breath hitches. His eyes widen as heat creeps up his neck and into his cheeks. “You…you want me to—to—”

“Ah, not that.” Hyun-jin’s lips curve into a knowing smile, his thumb brushing over Felix’s cheek as he shakes his head. “I apologize if that’s what it sounded like.” His tone is teasing now, yet there’s a softness underneath it. “Lay with me for the night, as I did with you before. I’m not talking about… sex.”

Felix gulps. He can’t stop the way his body tenses or how his heart stutters at the clarification. “S-Sure.” He says. Is it bad his mind went straight to that? It wasn’t like he was going to agree—he wasn’t considering accepting. And yet, the thought alone had sent a nervous heat through him. He tries to shake it off, nodding quickly as he steps back. “I’ll—um—go bathe now.”

Hyun-jin chuckles, but he doesn’t stop him. “I’ll be waiting.” There’s something unreadable in his gaze as he says it, but Felix doesn’t question it. He simply nods again before standing, making his way toward the door. (He can feel Hyun-jin’s eyes on him as he leaves.)

Felix sinks lower into the water until only half of his face remains above the surface. His arms curl around his knees, holding himself in place as warmth seeps into his skin. The steam clings to him, wrapping around his body like a second layer, but it isn’t just the heat making his face burn. Maybe this is bad for him, he thinks. His heart, his health, his plan to stay. And yet, despite everything, that plan keeps changing. Maybe he really should win Hyun-jin over, and not just through acting perfect and doing his best to stay on his good side.

He should try to love him.

Hyun-jin has been nothing but caring—patient, understanding in a way Felix never expected. He has more power, authority, and leadership than he could ever wish to have. He could potentially protect him from Jiho, and if this trial engagement is successful he won’t ever have to leave. And though Felix once swore he wouldn’t dwell on how his next husband would feel about him, whether he’d be indifferent or cruel, whether he’d care at all…it’s impossible not to with Hyun-jin. Because Hyun-jin does care. As if he is someone worth worrying about, worth holding close. His fingers ghost over his lips, his heart pounding with something unfamiliar and dangerous, something he should let grow.

When Felix returns to Hyun-jin’s room, the space is quiet, illuminated only by the soft glow of candlelight. Hyun-jin sits at the edge of the bed, journal in hand, his brows slightly furrowed as he writes. His fingers move smoothly across the page, though his grip on the quill is firm like whatever he’s jotting down holds great importance. Beside him, a tray of light sandwiches rests on the bed, untouched. Felix hesitates before stepping forward, the sound of his bare feet against the floor drawing Hyun-jin’s attention. The other man looks up, setting his journal aside as Felix takes a seat next to him. “You should eat,” Hyun-jin says, his voice gentle but firm. “Regain some strength.”

Felix glances at the tray. He hadn’t even thought about food, but now that it’s in front of him, his stomach twists in hunger. A part of him wants to refuse, to say he’s fine—but Hyun-jin would see through the lie, just like before, and it wouldn’t be good for him if Min-ho found out he didn’t eat at the gathering. So, without a word, he reaches for a sandwich. He ends up eating three sandwiches before finally settling under the covers of Hyun-jin’s bed. The warmth of the blankets seeps into his skin, easing the tension in his body.

Hyun-jin watches him with a satisfied smile, setting his journal aside before calling a maid to collect the empty tray. Once the task is done, he returns to the bed, slipping under the covers with Felix. But instead of keeping a respectable distance, he settles in awfully close. Felix barely has time to react before strong arms wrap around him, pulling him into a firm yet careful embrace.

Hyun-jin presses against him, warm and solid, his breath fanning against Felix’s shoulder. It’s bold—far more than Felix expected—but there’s no hesitation in the way Hyun-jin holds him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Is this too much?” He asks.

Felix doesn’t know how to answer. It should be too much. It should be overwhelming. But instead, it feels safe. “…No,” He says softly. “It’s fine.”

Hyun-Jin’s hold tightens just slightly, and then he speaks again, voice quieter this time. “I have insomnia,” He admits, shifting slightly against Felix. “Holding something helps me sleep and…relax.”

Those words bring back a memory—one he hadn’t thought much of until now. That morning after the dragon attacked. The one where Hyun-jin, still lost in sleep, had reached for him without thinking. Felix had tried to move away, only for Hyun-jin’s grip to tighten, demanding that he stay. At the time, he’d written it off as a half-conscious act despite Yeji’s explanation, but now…now it makes sense. Hyun-jin doesn’t just want to hold something—he needs to.

Felix shifts slightly in his grasp, closer, and Hyun-jin hums again, content. “Better?” Felix asks hesitantly.

“Yes,” Hyun-jin answers without hesitation. 

And so, Felix lets Hyun-jin hold him, and they fall asleep like that.

-.-

A few hours into the afternoon, Felix is informed of an important decision that has been made in his absence. The king and queen have decided to move up the date for his knight-choosing ceremony, shortening the selection period significantly. The sudden shift in plans isn’t without reason—after everything that has happened, from Irene’s reckless actions to his unexpected disappearance, it has become clear that Felix is vulnerable in ways that cannot be ignored. Hyun-Jin’s parents have deemed it necessary for him to have a personal knight—someone sworn to protect him in any circumstance, someone who will remain by his side at all times.

But first before that, there’s an issue—or rather something before him that demands his presence. Irene, sitting before him, with fidgeting fingers and eyes brimming with guilt and shame. Her gaze is cast downward, the usual confidence she carries is nowhere to be found. Instead, guilt and shame weigh heavily on her shoulders, reflected in the hesitant way she shifts in her seat. Felix watches her carefully, unreadable. He isn’t sure what to expect from this meeting, nor is he certain of what he wants to hear. An explanation? An apology? A reason that will make sense of what she did?

The silence between them stretches, thick and stifling. Irene opens her mouth once, twice, but no words come out. It’s as if she doesn’t even know where to begin when she had asked to personally speak to him as soon as he woke. Then, finally looking up at him, she breaks into tears. “I would like to apologize to you, Prince Felix.” She starts. “Although I was the one to suggest you go first, I didn’t mean for you to get lost. I swore you were right in front of me—then you disappeared. And I—“

Felix stops her quickly. “I thought you said I insisted on going to see the fairies when you actually said I should and led me there?”

Irene flinches at his words, her teary eyes widening as if caught in a lie she hadn’t meant to tell. Her hands tighten in her lap, twisting the fabric of her dress. “I—” She hesitates, swallowing thickly. “I… was scared.”

Felix tilts his head, watching her carefully. “Scared of what?”

Irene exhales shakily, breaking eye contact. “You weren’t the only one caught up in this situation. I…I barely escaped the forest myself—and when I got back, I was treated horribly. I was terrified, Felix. Scared for my life, scared of getting in trouble for losing track of you—scared of what would happen if they thought I led you into danger.” Her voice wavers, thick with emotion. “But I would never do that on purpose! We’re close friends. I just panicked when Hyun-Jin questioned me because he seemed—he seemed—”

She stops suddenly, her brows furrowing. A storm of emotions flickers across her face—rage, resentment, sorrow—before they settle into something unreadable. When she finally speaks again, her voice is quieter. “He really cares about you,” She says, almost like she’s realizing it for the first time again. “He was furious. Not just at me, but at the situation, at himself. I’ve never seen him like that before. He didn’t just scold me, Felix. He looked like he was ready to tear me apart for what happened to you.”

Felix tilts his head, indifferent. He doesn’t believe anything Irene says, nor her story about how she barely made it out—because that could’ve been planned. He exhales through his nose, shifting in his seat. “You still lied,” He says. “And when questioned, you tried to make it seem like everything was my fault. That’s not something you can just take back, even if you claim to be ‘scared’ of confrontation.”

Irene nods quickly, her fingers gripping each other so tightly that her knuckles turn white. “I know. And I’m so, so sorry.” She bows her head. “I don’t expect forgiveness, but I needed you to hear it from me.”

Felix studies her for a long moment. He doesn’t know if he forgives her—not yet. But at the very least, he believes she regrets it. Somewhat. (Because right now, the facade she’s putting on to save her name is as clear as glass. She’s trying to avoid accountability.) But he’ll play along. “I forgive you,” He finally says, leaning forward and placing a hand on hers. She looks up at him, wide-eyed, almost shocked, before a smile stretches across her plump lips.

“Thank you!” She exclaims, her tone shifting into something far too light for the situation. And just like that, she starts acting all buddy-buddy with him, as if nothing had happened. She shifts closer, her voice slipping into its usual, friendly lilt, chatting away like she hadn’t just been crying moments ago. Felix listens, offering polite nods and small smiles, but he knows what she’s thinking. That he’s naive. That he’s stupid. That he’s just another selfless fool willing to let things go because of a few well-placed tears. Her fingers curl around his wrist, tugging him up. “Come on, let’s go to the knight ceremony together! We have to find you the perfect match.”

Felix lets himself be pulled along, keeping his expression void of anything. If she wants to pretend everything is fine, he’ll let her for now, because after the Knight ceremony, problems like this shouldn’t be happening so easily anymore. He’ll have a higher chance of not being left alone with Irene, and an even greater chance of avoiding Calcifer.

Chapter Text

The snowy stone courtyard is bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, the last of its golden light filtering through the high castle walls. At the far end, the king and queen sit on a raised platform, their expressions unreadable as they oversee the ceremony. Felix walks beside Irene with no choice as her arm loops around his, acting as if they've always been close. She's smiling, whispering small things to him about how grand the knights look, how exciting this must be. But Felix barely hears her. His focus is on the line of knights standing before him.

Among them, familiar faces stand out—Seung-min, Ji-sung, Jeong-in, and Chang-bin—all standing tall, donned in their grand uniforms. Their cloaks catch in the wind slightly, sigils embroidered in silver. Alongside them, other knights of varying ages and builds stand just as proud, their expressions serious as they await the ceremony's next steps. Irene gives Felix's arm a gentle squeeze, leaning in. "They're all looking at you, you know?" She giggles softly, voice light. "It must feel nice, having so many people willing to fight for you."

Felix swallows, eyes scanning the line despite knowing who he's after. As they move through the courtyard, Irene keeps Felix close, leading him toward where Yeji and Hyun-jin stand near the platform. Yeji brightens when she sees them approaching, immediately stepping forward. "Oh, I'm so glad you two made up!" She says, clasping her hands together with visible relief. "I knew it had to be a misunderstanding."

Felix doesn't have time to react before Irene nods eagerly, her grip on his arm tightening. "Yes! Just a simple misunderstanding," She chimes in, voice smooth and effortless. "It was never my intention to cause any trouble."

Felix almost rolls his eyes. She says it so convincingly, like she truly believes it. He doesn't know whether to admire the act or feel exhausted by it. Hyun-jin, on the other hand, remains unmoved. His gaze flickers between them before landing on Irene with a blank, unreadable look. He doesn't say anything—just watches. The indifference in his expression makes Felix wonder if Irene notices or if she's simply pretending not to. Yeji, oblivious to the tension as always, sighs in relief and turns to Felix. "That's wonderful. Now, come, you have an important decision to make."

The stone courtyard fills with anticipation as Felix steps forward, the weight of his choice pressing against his chest. He gets in front of Ji-sung and the omega's eyes widen slightly, as if he hadn't expected to be picked, but then a slow, proud smile spreads across his face. He kneels before Felix, pressing a fist over his heart. "I vow to protect you, my Prince," He says, voice firm with conviction. A priest steps forward then, adorned in white robes lined with blue embroidery. In his hands, he holds a ceremonial dagger and a small silver bowl filled with water infused with sacred herbs.

"The bond between a royal and their knight is one of unbreakable faith," The priest intones, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "A vow sworn before the gods, sealed in blood, and honored until death." He turns his gaze to Ji-sung. "Do you, Han Ji-sung, swear to protect Prince Felix with your life, to remain steadfast in your duty, to be his sword and shield against all who wish him harm?"

Ji-sung straightens, his hand still over his heart. "I swear it."

The priest then turns to Felix. "And do you, Prince Felix, accept Han Ji-sung as your sworn knight, to trust in his protection, to honor his duty, and to grant him your faith?"

Felix nods. "I do."

The priest lifts the dagger, its blade glinting in the light. He makes a shallow cut along Ji-sung's palm, letting a few drops of blood fall into the silver bowl. Then, he does the same to Felix, watching as their blood mingles in the water and changes to clear. "From this day forth, your bond is forged. May the gods bear witness to this oath, and may it never be broken."

A wave of quiet murmurs passes through the assembled knights, acknowledging the ceremony's conclusion. Ji-sung rises to his feet, flexing his cut hand slightly before grinning at Felix. "Guess you're stuck with me now, huh?"

Felix smiles. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

But, that was until he knew Ji-sung was close to Min-ho, or rather, his mate. Ji-sung had suggested walking together after the ceremony so they could talk about boundaries and what periods Felix would need him at his side—which happened to be anytime he's away from the castle grounds. During that talk, Ji-sung asked if he wants to walk with him a little more to deliver lunch to someone. He agreed of course, but little did he know that "someone" had a position in the castle's medical wing.

The medical wing wasn't a place people frequented unless they had a reason. And Ji-sung, carrying a neatly wrapped meal in his hands, looked far too comfortable navigating its halls. Felix slows his steps, watching as Ji-sung greets the stationed guards with a nod before pushing open one of the heavier wooden doors. It was only when they turned a familiar corridor, the scent of herbs and sterilized linens filling the air, that realization set in. And then, just as expected, Felix found himself standing in front of a particular room—one he knew too well.

Ji-sung knocked before stepping inside, and Felix hesitated for just a second before following.

And there he was, of course, hunched over a clipboard and multiple books at a desk.

Min-ho.

Min-ho barely reacts as Ji-sung runs over and clings to him, though there's a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He reaches up to pat Ji-sung's waist, a silent acknowledgment, before turning his gaze toward Felix.

Felix watches the interaction carefully, his brows still furrowed. "You two know each other well?" He asks curiously, uneasy.

Ji-sung beams, rocking slightly in place as he keeps his hold around Min-ho's neck. "Of course! He's my alpha, we're mated." His voice is light, casual, but full of meaning. He seems completely unaware of the tension creeping into Felix's posture, the nervousness wracking his limbs.

Felix's eyes widen, but he forces his expression to even out, a faint smile on his lips. "That's nice. I'm happy for you both," he pushes out kindly, though the feelings inside him are anything but that. He made a mistake. Had he known Ji-sung was involved with Min-ho beforehand, he would've never chosen him. Now he has to watch his back even more.

Min-ho tilts his head ever so slightly as if studying Felix's reaction. Then, after a moment, he smiles. Amused. Knowing. "Oh, you're his knight now?" Min-ho muses, though it sounds more like a realization than a question. He lets out a small laugh, shaking his head. "That's perfect." His smile widens as his eyes glint with something unreadable. "I hope you two become well acquainted with each other."

Felix meets his gaze, trying not to let the unease show, but the weight of Min-ho's words settles heavily between them. This wasn't just an observation—it was another warning. A challenge. And worst of all, a promise that Min-ho wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste.

"Well, thank you for the lunch, Ji-sung. But...Since the Prince is already here, why don't you leave and let me do his physical evaluation to get it over with?" He suggests, then locks eyes with Felix. "I've been meaning to reach you about it, especially after I heard you took a fall yesterday."

Ji-sung, blissfully unaware of the shift in tension, nods eagerly. "Oh, that makes sense! We might as well take care of it now, right?" He turns to Felix with an encouraging smile. "It won't take long I'm sure, so I'll just wait outside for you."

Felix swallows, his heart kicking against his ribs. He doesn't want to be alone with Min-ho, not now, not ever—but Ji-sung is already heading for the door, humming to himself. The moment it clicks shut, Min-ho's smile fades into something more unreadable. "Well?" He prompts, tilting his head. "Are you going to take a seat?"

Felix clenches his jaw, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "I...I'm fine. There's no need."

"That's not what I asked." He takes a step forward, hands slipping behind his back in a way that feels too casual. "You took a fall yesterday, didn't you? We wouldn't want there to be any lasting damage, now would we?"

Felix instinctively takes a step back. "I...I'm a bit busy today. I don't think—"

"It will be quick, if you comply." Min-ho cuts him off smoothly, his voice soft but firm. Then, he leans in just slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Remember our promise? I'm not here to scare you, but it may seem like that. If there's something that will help me access your condition further, it needs to be done whether you like it or not. My job is to make sure the royal family is always well, and you're now a part of that responsibility."

Felix stills, his breath catching in his throat. He does remember. And he knows—there's no escaping this. "Where...where will you be checking?"

Min-ho hums. "Everywhere that's hidden. You may not have prominent injuries externally, but I need to make sure nothing's been overlooked." His eyes gleam with something unreadable. "You wouldn't want to be walking around with an injury you didn't even realize you had, would you?"

Felix grips the fabric of his sleeve, fingers tightening as he forces himself to remain still. He doesn't want this. But he knows how Min-ho operates—if he resists, it'll only make things worse.

"...Fine." His voice is quiet.

Min-ho's smile is all too pleased as he gestures toward the examination table. "Good choice, Your Highness. Take a seat. I'll have you take off your corset and long sleeve, starting with your back."

His back.

Felix feels sick. "First before anything, I uhm, I did take a harsh fall. So there's a lot of scratches and scars I didn't notice before."

Min-ho raises an eyebrow. "Okay, that's fine. Let me see. I'll treat them."

"Some are already healed—I always heal fast." Felix adds.

Min-ho watches him carefully, too carefully, as if he can see right through the excuse. Felix knows he can't afford to slip up, so he keeps his expression neutral, his hands steady as he begins undoing the ties of his corset. "Fast healing or not, untreated wounds can become a problem," Min-ho says, stepping closer. "It's best I check for myself."

Felix forces a small nod, but every movement feels stiff. He shrugs off his long sleeves, bracing himself as the cool air brushes against his skin. He doesn't dare look at Min-ho's face, but he can feel his gaze trailing over the marks on his back—some faint, others not.

Min-ho doesn't speak at first, only letting out a quiet hum as he reaches forward, his fingers ghosting over an older scar. "And these," He muses, tapping lightly against one that's deeper than the rest—white and puffy and healed somewhat. "Your fall gave you these too?"

"The terrain was rough," He lies. "Sharp edges, uneven ground. It's not surprising."

Min-ho lets out a hum of consideration, his fingers lingering just a moment too long. "I see." His voice is unreadable. "Well, I may have to document this."

Felix whips his head back. "Document? Why?"

"For an injury log," Min-ho murmurs. "Though, do you think I'm naive, Prince Felix?"

"What?"

"These aren't scars you get from falling, let alone from yesterday. Most of them are old and healed, like they were here a long time ago. Not to mention, if you truly fell on rough terrain, you would've had more bruises than scars. The only new scar I necessarily see is on your forehead, while these—these seem from a different situation altogether."

Felix's heart pounds so hard he swears Min-ho can hear it. His fingers twitch where they rest on his lap, but he doesn't move, doesn't react beyond the tightness settling in his throat. "I don't know what you're trying to imply," He says, keeping his voice level. "But I already told you the truth."

Min-ho clicks his tongue, stepping around to face him properly. His gaze is calculating, dissecting, yet his voice remains calm—too calm. "You're a terrible liar," He remarks. "I would've believed you if you hadn't tensed the second I mentioned documenting it."

Felix swallows hard. "Because it's unnecessary."

Min-ho tilts his head. "Unnecessary," He echoes. "Or inconvenient? Irritating? Because you don't like that I'm digging into the things you keep hidden? Was your past doctor not attentive enough to you?"

Felix doesn't answer. He holds his ground, but Min-ho only exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly.

"I wonder," Min-ho muses, crossing his arms, "If I were to tell someone about these. How would you react? These aren't normal scars, Felix, and it's truly wracking my brain how you got them. This might even be related to your eating disorder."

Felix's breath catches. "Don't."

Min-ho hums. "Please remove your pants, I need to check your legs."

Felix freezes. "What?"

"You heard me," Min-ho says. "I need to check for any bruising or hidden injuries. If you're fine, then there's nothing to worry about, right?"

Felix attempts to not let his panic show. He can't let Min-ho see more. He can't risk it. "I'm fine there," He says firmly. "I don't need further examination."

"But that's not your decision to make. If you have scars like that on your back, then who knows if you don't have them elsewhere."

Felix lifts his chin, refusing to back down. "Yet I don't consent."

A heavy silence falls between them. Then, Min-ho sighs, rubbing his temple. "You really don't trust me, hmm? I know I'm strict, but I really mean for the best, even if the 'best' isn't what you like. You are the most peculiar case I've had."

Felix's voice quieter this time. "I trust you to do your job. Not to overstep my boundaries."

Min-ho watches him for a long moment, then steps back, lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Then what if those boundaries are something that is affecting your health? But, have it your way, Prince. Just know I won't let things go easily. Especially not when I see something so concerning."

Felix doesn't respond. He just gathers his clothes and puts them back on. He needs to leave before Min-ho digs any deeper. "You'll keep quiet about what you saw."

"It's in our contract, so I have no choice. But please, don't let whatever this is continue. If I meet with you again and find out it's gotten worse..." Min-ho trails off, his gaze unwavering. "Then I may have to reconsider my silence."

Felix clenches his jaw, his grip tightening around the fabric of his corset. "It won't happen again."

Min-ho tilts his head, studying him, unimpressed. "Forgive me if I don't believe that."

Felix exhales sharply, turning away. "Then don't." He fastens his corset back with quick hands, willing the tension in his body to ease. "But you'll still keep quiet."

Min-ho leans against the desk, arms folded again. "For now." His voice is firm. "But, Felix—take care of yourself. You might think no one is watching, but some see more than you realize. You're going to need to be in your best health for the day you help with Hyun-Jin's rut. You only have a month and a half until your engagement is set in stone."

Felix pauses. "His rut? When was that again?"

"Every month. But as I said before, it's on and off. One month he'll be in a full rut, another month he'll be suffering from a fever. This month he'll only experience a fever."

"Right," Felix says slowly. "If I recall, you never told me what a full rut looks like for him. You only said it was...restrained."

Min-ho runs a hand through his hair before giving Felix a knowing look. "That's because it's...not easy to describe. Or rather, it's not something you can really prepare for, even if you think you can."

Felix frowns. "What do you mean?"

Min-ho taps a finger against the desk, his expression unreadable. "Hyun-Jin isn't like others. His rut is a manifestation of something deeper—his power, his instincts, his very nature. The only rumor about him that's completely true is that he is well over strong. Now imagine all of that condensed into a single point, with every ounce of restraint stripped away, leaving only the most primal parts of him behind. There's a reason he's called cursed. A normal rut is driven by desire, by biological need. His?" He scoffs. "It's something else entirely. A side effect of what's inside him. His body isn't just responding to instinct—it's trying to contain his power as well. If he doesn't release it, it builds. And builds. Until it's too much."

"I see," Felix nervously squeezes his arm with one hand. "And if I may ask, what exactly is Hyun-Jin's power?"

"Unimaginable cursed strength, to simply put it." Min-ho's voice is grave, as if even uttering the words feels dangerous. "But it's not just physical. Hyun-Jin's power isn't something you can measure by ordinary means. It's volatile. Unpredictable. He doesn't just fight—he destroys. That's why his rut is linked. His body isn't just seeking relief—it's seeking balance. If he doesn't release that energy, it festers. He becomes a danger to everyone. That's why, without a proper partner, he's always been on harsh suppressants everyday to inhibit it. However, I can assure you that you don't have to worry. It's unlikely that he will hurt you."

"That's...good news." Felix nods slowly. He tries to ignore what that implicates—strong power. A connected rut. Destruction. Sexual desire. What does that mean for him then, is he...possibly expected to handle that? Will it even be safe for him to get near him? He fights back a shiver.

"And one more thing," Min-ho adds. "Since he has that power, he rarely gets hurt in a real battle. But if he does, by some stupid mistake he—" Min-ho pauses. "Has he told you about his condition?"

"Condition? Like his insomnia?"

Min-ho chuckles, shaking his head. "No, rather...how pain makes...but—nevermind. It doesn't matter. Do you have any further questions? About Hyun-Jin? Your health? Our next meeting?"

Felix gives him a sour look. "Not about those. But...have you ever heard of a human being able to talk to a beast?"

Min-ho blinks at the sudden change in topic, but his expression remains unreadable. "A human speaking to a beast?" He hums. "You're not asking about common animal communication behavior, are you?"

Felix shakes his head. "No. I mean...actual conversation. Understanding each other. Like a language."

Min-ho studies him carefully before responding. "There are legends. Myths, really. Some say there were humans with sacred energy long ago who could tame monsters—not through force, but through words. Their very existence was a beacon that drew monsters toward them, either in reverence or in abhorrence, so most of them are said to be gone. But again, it's just a myth. There may be magic in this world, but that doesn't mean it enables mythical creatures and monsters to understand a human. That type of divine power hasn't been revealed for centuries. It may not even exist—and if It did, the wielder would be enslaved to the mages tower organization for testing." He tilts his head. "Why?"

Felix hesitates. Enslaved? That's...horrible to even think of. Should he even tell him about being called a child of the sun then? Or is the topic foreign? He also could've been hallucinating due to hitting his head, but he doesn't know anymore. "Just curious. I...read a book before."

Min-ho doesn't look convinced, but he lets it slide. "Curiosity is good. But be careful talking about anomaly's like that, Felix." His voice lowers. "Some things are better left unheard."

And maybe he's right.

When Felix leaves, it's not just Ji-sung outside. It's Seung-min and Changbin too, but no Jeong-In. They're talking with each other, making banter about how Ji-sung was lucky to be picked and what not. Chang-bin is the first to notice him, and he smiles brightly. "So, how did your examination go?"

Felix startles at the sudden attention, his body still humming with unease from what just transpired. But he forces a smile, tucking his hands into his pockets as he steps forward. "It was fine," He says, voice steady despite the lingering tension in his muscles.

Chang-bin hums, tilting his head. "Just fine?"

Ji-sung grins. "Min-ho didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

Felix shakes his head, and Ji-sung nudges his shoulder with a teasing smirk. "I bet he scolded you about your injury, huh? That guy is relentless to everyone."

Felix huffs a small laugh, grateful for the casual atmosphere, even if it does little to chase away the cold pit in his stomach. "Something like that."

Seung-min crosses his arms, eyeing Felix carefully. "Alright, but, what were your plans for the rest of this week? Hyun-Jin's birthday is in two days on Friday, and he was wondering if you'd come."

Felix raises his eyebrows. Hyun-Jin's birthday. Right. He hadn't forgotten—he didn't even know it was soon—but with everything happening, it had slipped to the back of his mind. "I—yeah, of course. I'll come."

Chang-bin claps a hand on his shoulder. "Good. The Queen always plans a banquet with him, inviting his close friends from other territories. You should definitely come because you're his husband after all."

Felix nods. "Okay. I'll make sure to, but for now I'm going to go back to my room and rest. I was woken up quite early..."

"That's completely fine. We'll escort you back, so we hope you have a good rest."

Felix offers them a small smile, though exhaustion is already creeping into his expression. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

Ji-sung falls into step beside him as they begin walking back, while Seung-min and Chang-bin trail slightly behind, still engaged in lighthearted conversation. Despite the casual atmosphere, he can feel their eyes occasionally flicker toward him—checking, assessing. It doesn't feel suffocating, but it does make him more aware of himself, of the way he holds his posture and controls his breathing. When they finally reach his door, Ji-sung gives him a light pat on the back. "Sleep well, Your Highness," He teases, grinning.

Felix snorts. "You're not required to call me that, you know."

"Yeah, but it's respectful to." Ji-sung winks before stepping back. "See you later, Felix."

Felix watches them leave before slipping inside his room, exhaling deeply the moment the door clicks shut behind him. Finally alone. His body feels heavy, his mind sluggish. He just needs to rest—at least for a little while. He won't miss lunch, he swears to himself. Then, he can figure out what to do for Hyun-Jin's birthday when it comes.

Though, the day it does finally come—

"Hyun-Jin has changed his mind about your attendance. However, you're more than welcome to send him a gift. He believes it best you rest a bit longer after that...unfortunate fall you took," Calcifer says, his voice as flat as ever, hands neatly clasped behind his back as he stands before his bed.

Felix's eyes widen. "What?"

Calcifer doesn't so much as sigh. "Must I repeat myself, Prince? You don't seem to be in the best condition, so please, try to understand his wishes. Not to mention, after that situation people will surely be talking about you. He will check on you later. He's already preoccupied with getting ready for the event today."

"Oh." He lowers his head slightly, frowning. Something about this doesn't sit right—everyone else had been saying Hyun-Jin wanted him there, so why would he suddenly change his mind? Yet at the same time, it's not unreasonable to think Hyun-Jin might still be worried about him. "Okay...then, what gift do you recommend I give him?"

Calcifer smiles, a slow, knowing curve of his lips. "A drawing of a cherry blossom tree."

Felix stills. He keeps his face blue of any emotion, but internally, he's appalled. He knows the history behind that—everyone does. A cherry tree is what the queen's sister hung herself on. It's not something one casually suggests, not unless they're being deliberately cruel. And yet, Calcifer says it so shamelessly, like he's waiting for him to make a mistake, to set himself up for trouble. He forces a small smile. "That's a wonderful idea."

(He has no intention of actually drawing it.)

When Calcifer finally leaves, Felix exhales, rolling his shoulders. He doesn't have time for whatever game Calcifer is playing. Instead, he settles at his desk, grabbing a piece of parchment and sketching a wisteria flower on the cover. He folds the paper into a simple card. It's nothing elaborate, especially when he hasn't had the time to go out and buy a real gift. But...perhaps art supplies would be a good idea. It wouldn't be bad to go out to the market, right? And after he can return to the castle and make a quick stop at the gathering to hand him a gift. He'll be okay, it's still early out. And just to be safe, he'll ask Mei to come with him for guidance. She knows the city well and can help him find what he needs without drawing too much attention.

The cold bites at his exposed skin as he steps into the bustling streets of Artevmia, the capital's winter air crisp with the scent of snow and wood smoke. His breath curls in wisps before him, disappearing into the wind as Mei leads the way, her steps confident against the uneven stone roads. The town is alive despite the cold, vendors bundled in thick wool coats, shopkeepers sweeping snow off their doorsteps, and children kicking up white powder as they run past. Mei turns to him with a smile, her cheeks flushed from the cold. "Artevmia's shopping district is one of the finest in the kingdom. You'll find all sorts of treasures here if you know where to look."

He pulls his hood up further, nodding as he takes in the lively scenery. Stalls line the streets, their awnings dusted with snow. Merchants call out to passersby, advertising everything from warm honeyed pastries to hand-carved trinkets. The town has a certain charm to it, quaint but bustling, cozy yet expansive. They pass a bakery first, the golden glow from within spilling onto the streets. The smell of fresh bread makes his stomach twist, but he ignores it, following Mei as she gestures toward a small side street. "The art store is just ahead. It's been around for decades, run by the same family."

His boots crunch against the snow-packed road as he follows her. "Have you been here often?"

"A few times," She admits. "My mother used to take me when I was younger. We'd pick up calligraphy ink and brushes for her letters."

He hums, glancing around. The deeper they go, the quieter it becomes, the voices of merchants fading behind them. Eventually, Mei stops in front of a humble little shop with a frosted window. A wooden sign hangs above the door, its painted letters slightly worn with time. Inside, the warmth is instant, the air thick with the smell of parchment and aged wood. Rows of neatly arranged paints, brushes, and inks line the walls, and canvases of all sizes are stacked near the back. An older man, presumably the shopkeeper, looks up from his counter and nods in greeting.

He walks along the shelves, running his fingers over the cool glass jars of powdered pigment. He carefully picks out a few primary colors, others he thinks Hyun-Jin might like, and adds a set of fine paintbrushes.

"Prince Felix, do you perhaps like painting?" Mei asks, watching as he examines a sketch pad.

Felix shakes his head. "No, it's for Hyun-Jin"

Mei smiles. "I think he'll like it. You're the first of his partners to go out your way to get him a gift. He doesn't have much time to visit the town to refill his supplies, so it's great you're thinking of it for him."

Felix smiles. "I think so too,"

When they return, Felix takes his time arranging a small gift basket, carefully placing the art supplies inside before tying it off with a neat bow. The effort feels small, but thoughtful—something personal, something that, despite its simplicity, carries meaning.

By the time he's finished, the sun has begun to set, casting a golden glow through his window. It's already 5 p.m., and the banquet started thirty minutes ago. The castle is eerily quiet, save for the assistants lingering in the halls—left behind under Calcifer's orders to tend to whatever "condition" he supposedly has. Felix sighs, adjusting the ribbon one last time.

He hopes Hyun-Jin isn't disappointed in him for not arriving on time, but it's likely Calcifer has already informed the royal family that he won't be attending at all. Still, that doesn't mean he can't stop by, even if only to deliver the gift. Just as he steps out of the castle, however, the skies break open, and droplets pour down in heavy sheets of cold rain and snow. Felix shivers at the sudden chill but doesn't have time to turn back for an umbrella. He pushes forward, keeping his pace steady as the wind howls through the courtyard. His clothes are soaked within minutes, fabric clinging uncomfortably to his skin as he tries to shield the basket with his jacket. The grand hall is just ahead, its golden lights shimmering through the storm, but before he can reach it—

CRACK.

A sharp bolt of thunder splits the sky, the sound deafening as it rips through the air.

Felix freezes.

His breath catches, his pulse pounding. Something inside him coils tight, a sickening pull from deep within his chest. The sound of the rain distorts, fading into a dull roar behind the ringing in his ears. He swallows hard, shaking his head as if it'll rid him of the memories clawing their way to the surface. He forces himself to focus on what matters—delivering the gift. It's just water. Just noise. Nothing else.

The rain continues to pour, drenching him to the bone as he pushes forward. His steps are unsteady, but he doesn't stop until he reaches the entrance of the grand hall.

Then, he catches his reflection in the polished glass doors. He's a mess. His clothes cling to him like a second skin, heavy with rain, his usually neat hair plastered to his forehead. Water drips from his sleeves, his fingers, the edges of the gift basket. He looks utterly pathetic.

His stomach sinks. If he walks in now, like this, he won't just embarrass himself—he'll humiliate Hyun-Jin and the royal family. The whispers will start before he even makes it across the floor. Look at him. The prince who couldn't even take care of himself. The prince who wasn't fit to stand beside Hyun-Jin.

Felix grips the basket tighter, his knuckles turning white.

How stupid.

He should have never come—maybe he should've just waited. He had been impatient, after all, and eager, and happy, and hoping Hyun-Jin would be happy to see him, even if just for a moment. But now, standing here like this, he wonders if he was wrong to think that. He imagines the warmth inside, the golden lights illuminating a room filled with laughter and celebration. Hyun-Jin would be there, surrounded by nobility, looking as regal and untouchable as ever.

He can't go in like this.

He won't humiliate himself or Hyun-Jin. He'll wait. The rain will stop eventually, and when it does, he'll find a way to clean himself up and give Hyun-Jin his gift properly.

Felix ends up near the back of the building to avoid being seen, but then there's another boom of thunder, he falters in his steps. Something cloudy overtakes his mind, and he presses his back against a cold stone wall, his legs suddenly feeling unsteady, like they might give out beneath him at any moment. His fingers dig into the damp fabric of his sleeves as he forces himself to take a breath, his grip on the gift basket weakening. He shuts his eyes, but it doesn't help—it only makes the memories clearer.

Thunder strikes again, and he hears his mother's voice, booming and cutting through his thoughts like lightning. Disappointed. Strict. Impossible to overcome. The rain pounds against the cobblestone path, and he feels Jiho's grip tightening around his wrist, dragging him away from the door, away from escape. The cold pressure on his skin, the way his breath had caught in his throat as the lock clicked into place. The wind howls wildly, and suddenly he's twelve, sixteen, eighteen again, curled up on the floor of a darkened room, the echoes of past storms whispering to him that there's no way out. No way to be heard. No way to fight.

Felix shudders, forcing his eyes open. He can't do this here. Get it together. He's not in that locked room. He's not under Jiho's grip. He's not cowering beneath his mother's voice. He's not. With shaky hands, he sets the basket down beside him, bracing himself against the wall as he tries to steady his breath. The rainwater drips from his hair, sliding down his face like tears he refuses to shed. He whispers to himself that he's just having another one of those moments, reacting poorly from things in his surroundings. Nothing is happening, and yet he can't seem to think otherwise.

It rarely rains in the sunshine kingdom, but when it does, it's always a bad omen for Felix.

The rain had started earlier one evening, a quiet drizzle that soon swelled into a relentless downpour. It hammered against the palace windows, rattling the glass like a prisoner desperate to escape. Felix sat near the fireplace, curling with his fingers around the soft fabric of his sleeve, trying to ignore the unease creeping into his chest. Jiho had been in a foul mood all day. Pacing. Muttering. Seething. Felix didn't know what had set him off, but he had learned long ago that the cause didn't matter—only the aftermath. He kept his head down, his breathing quiet, his presence smaller than a flickering shadow.

But then thunder crackled.

Felix flinched, a small, instinctive movement, but it was enough. Jiho's gaze snapped to him, burning with something unreadable—something dangerous.

"What now, Felix?" Jiho's voice carried an unsettling tone. He kept his head down, hoping Jiho would grow bored, let it pass. But Jiho never let things pass when he was in this kind of mood. Instead, he closed the distance between them in a few strides and grabbed his wrist, yanking him up from his chair.

"You always do this when we're together," Jiho murmured, his grip tightening as he pulled Felix in closer. "Cowering. Flinching. Like a fragile little thing that can't even stand on its own. You need to get over yourself when it's all your fault that you get punished. If you acted like the prince you're supposed to be, maybe that would be different."

Felix bit down on the inside of his cheek, forcing himself not to react. Not to give Jiho the satisfaction. Then Jiho's hand moved, sliding up Felix's arm, over his shoulder. The touch started slow, deceptively gentle, before it drifted downward, tracing over his collarbone. Felix's breath caught as Jiho's fingers pressed against his throat—not squeezing, just resting there, a quiet reminder of control. Jiho tilted his head, watching him, amused by whatever he saw. "You tense up so easily." His thumb brushed along Felix's jaw, slow, almost tender. "It's almost like you're begging to be handled."

He shook his head, but Jiho ignored it. His palm drifted lower, flattening against his chest, pressing lightly over his racing heartbeat. Then, lower. Felix froze as Jiho's fingers traced down his abdomen, playing with the hem of his tunic. Felix's stomach twisted in knots, bile climbing up his throat. He knew this—knew the way Jiho's moods turned sour when the world outside frustrated him. Jiho liked control, and when he felt powerless, he sought it elsewhere—from him. Felix tried to step back, but Jiho caught his hip, gripping tight enough to bruise. "Where do you think you're going?" His breath was warm against Felix's ear, but his touch was ice, lingering where it didn't belong.

Felix hated how his body betrayed him with its fear. Jiho would notice. Jiho always noticed. Then came the shove—Jiho pushing him back against the wooden desk nearby. The square edge dug cruelly into his ribs, sharp pain blooming beneath his skin. But Jiho only leaned in closer, trapping him in place, his hands brushing along the waistband of Felix's pants in a way that made his skin crawl. "You should be grateful for me," Jiho murmured, his fingers playing with the buttons, undoing one, two. Three. His lips hovered just shy of Felix's jaw. "No one else would bother trying to perfect an omega as disobedient as you."

Felix squeezed his eyes shut. He was going to be sick if he went any further, did any more. His body had gone rigid, every muscle locked in place, but the moment he sucked in a sharp breath—and a hot, wet tear slipped down his cheek—Jiho stilled and yanked his hand back as if burned. Felix forced his eyes open just in time to see Jiho's expression shift, his gaze narrowing as he took in the look on Felix's face—pale, lips trembling, eyes wide with hatred, disgust.

"You—" His voice was harsh, almost accusatory. His jaw clenched, and in an instant, rage overtook him. His hand shot out, gripping Felix's chin, forcing him to look up. "Don't look at me like that," He snapped, voice dripping with venom. His fingers dug into his skin cruely as his eyes bore into Felix's, searching for anything that would fit the narrative he had inside his sick head. And when he couldn't find anything, that only made him angrier.

Felix forgot what happened after that.

Maybe it was because of the way his mind shut down, recoiling from the moment, pulling him away from the press of fingers, the suffocating weight of Jiho's presence. Maybe it was the fear, the dizziness, the way his stomach had twisted so violently that his vision blurred at the edges. Or maybe it was because it was easier that way. (To forget everything and anything. Punishments and derogatory words. Violence and obsession.)

And at least this time, he had been left alone. But even after he was, his body was still locked in place as if Jiho would come in once again and change his mind.

Outside, rain continued to pound against the windows, and thunder rumbled loudly in the sky. The storm would pass. They always did in his Kingdom. But Jiho's touch? The way it lingered even after it was gone?

That never left.

—

Felix rubs his temples and furrowing his eyebrows, wincing at that memory. He constantly tries to remind himself that nothing is wrong, that he hasn't been scarred by Jiho and his family. (He's not traumatized, he's not mentally weak either. It's just—his mind is filled with things he couldn't forget no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn't play pretend like a child could with their role plays and alter how events go, he couldn't erase the scars on his back and imagine they meant something else, and he couldn't imagine that he had never spent nights curled up, crying, dreading the next day, week, and year). He's only—

A hand suddenly touches his shoulder, and Felix flinches, his body acting before his mind catches up. He swats it away, stumbling back in surprise. His heart pounds against his ribs, the rush of panic immediate—until he sees who's standing before him.

"Prince Felix?" Jeong-in tilts his head. "What are you doing out here? I thought...nevermind. But are you alright? Did something happen? You're soaked—ah. We need to get you a change of clothes. About...Irene though, I—"

"If you're going to accuse me of getting her in trouble, you can just curse me instead. I don't know what she told you, but I'm sure it wasn't right." Felix speaks before he can finish, slowly straightening up and grabbing the basket. "Then again, I don't care what it was. I know you're not fond of me and that's okay,"

Jeong-in's eyes widened. "My prince, no...I wouldn't...I could never do that to you. I was simply going to—"

"It's fine. I'll be on my way. I know my place well." Felix gives him a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He knows he should probably hear him out, but the bitterness inside is rising from the weather and he just wants to go home. But just as he turns, and another flash of lightning strikes, he sees Hyun-Jin and the others in the distance, coming from the side of the building.

Felix almost drags his fingers over his face.

Of course. Of course, this would happen. It's the same situation all over again—just like that day in the courtyard when he tried delivering desserts to the knights, only to get caught between too many people, too many eyes. He can already sense it coming, the walls closing in, the escape he needs desperately failing. Still, he attempts. He turns quickly, intent on leaving before anyone else can say a word. But in his haste—as predicted—his foot lands wrong, carelessy, on the slick muddy slush beneath him.

 But worse than the fall is the sound that follows—a dull thud as the basket slips from his grasp, tumbling to the ground beside him. The contents spill out—Paint Brushes roll across the mud, staining at the ends. The parchment, once folded neatly into a card, is now damp, edges curling. The small ink set—his best choice given the limited options—tips over, the lid popping loose, dark liquid seeping into the earth below.

Felix stares at it, his fingers digging in the mud, a sinking feeling pressing down his chest. He's so...irritated. Embarrassed. Humiliated. What was the point of coming again? Why didn't he just wait? He hadn't wanted anyone to see him like this—shaken, wet, struggling to even get himself together, but it's already happened and there's nothing he can do. He forces himself upright on shaky arms, trying to gather whatever he can of the ruined gift. He doesn't know why—maybe because it's all he has left of this stupid plan. (Maybe because, after everything, he still wanted to give Hyun-Jin something, for treating him so nicely.)

The foot's steps eventually get closer, more frantic, and they stop before him. He doesn't even have to look up to know it's Hyun-Jin's touch on his wrist, holding him with an arm around his back. He hesitates, unsure of what to say or how to explain himself. His mind is still caught between the past and present, between the storm inside and out. But Hyun-Jin doesn't press him for answers. Instead, he just helps him upright, his grip lingering, his gaze searching. The contrast between his warmth and the cold rain sends a jolt through Felix's system, his body stiffening instinctively. 

"You're freezing," Hyun-Jin mutters, barely audible over the downpour. His eyes flick over Felix's drenched clothes, his damp hair, the golden lights spilling out onto the wet stone. "You didn't want to come inside?" He says, his voice softer than Felix expects.

Felix shakes his head slowly, avoiding the eyes of the others. "No I...couldn't. I'm sorry for disobeying you. I know you didn't want me to come, but I swear I was gonna leave as soon as I delivered your gift. I know you said you didn't want me here and I promise I'll—"

"Disobey? Who said that?"

Felix's lips part, and his eyebrows furrow. "You—you did."

Hyun-Jin looks appalled. "No. No, who told you I said that?  I wanted you to come—so badly. I was waiting, excited, and just when I thought you weren't coming I found you out here."

Felix blinks at him, his mind sluggish as he processes the words. The way Hyun-Jin says it—so sure—makes something in his chest twist painfully. "But..." His voice is barely above a whisper. His gaze flickers toward the others, searching for an answer that doesn't exist. And at this point, he doesn't care that he's ratting out the cause of this. "Calcifer told me. He said you changed your mind and that it was better if I stayed back to rest."

Hyun-Jin freezes beside him, and something dark flickers across his expression. His grip on Felix's wrist tightens, just for a moment, before he exhales sharply, jaw clenched. It's then Felix realizes he played into another one of Calcifer's lies—this one he could've avoided. Calcifer had done it on purpose. He had kept him away, knowing that he would question it but believe it. And the worst part? He had agreed like it was the most natural thing in the world to assume he wasn't wanted.

"I'm sorry," He says again, because he doesn't know what else to.

Hyun-Jin shakes his head immediately. "Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong."

Felix swallows, his throat dry despite the rain soaking him to the bone. The weight of the night, the storm, the memories, the realization of what was taken from him—it's all too much. His hands are trembling, his body cold, but more than anything, he just feels tired. Hyun-Jin seems to notice. He shifts closer, voice dropping even softer. "Come inside," He says. "Let me take care of you, then we can enjoy my birthday together."

And Felix, despite everything, can't find the strength to refuse him. Why would he?

As Felix is helped to his feet, Chang-bin steps in, guiding him gently to his side. "Come on, let's get you somewhere private," He says, his voice calm but firm.

Ji-sung turns to leave. "I'll find you a change of clothes so you can get warm again!" He adds before darting toward the castle.

Seung-min follows them closely, his gaze flickering between Felix and Hyun-Jin, but Felix barely processes it. Hyun-Jin lingers behind before stopping. "Give me one moment," He says, his tone unreadable. "Just go on ahead, I'll be there soon."

Felix doesn't think much of it at first—until he glances back once they get considerably farther. Hyun-Jin is kneeling on the wet ground where he fell, carefully gathering the scattered art supplies. He wipes them off, one by one, his fingers brushing over each piece with a gentleness that makes Felix's chest ache. There's a soft smile on his face as he does it, something fond yet bitter in the way he delicately tries to salvage the ruined gift.

Felix looks away before his throat can close up.

Chapter Text

The room is quiet, save for the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the distance. Outside, low echoes from the great hall are heard—laughter, glasses clinking, the chatter of royals. Felix sits across from Jeong-in, hands clasped together in his lap, fingers twisting around themselves. The silence feels heavier than it should, pressing down on his chest, making it harder to breathe. Jeong-in watches him, his expression unreadable. He hasn’t said anything yet; he's just studying Felix like he’s trying to piece something together.

Felix exhales slowly, staring down at the coffee table between them. (He almost regrets Seung-min and Chang-bin leaving him with him). His mind replays the scene from earlier, how he rudely smacked Jeong-in’s hand away and said some things he shouldn’t have. Felix swallows hard. Maybe he really had been coming to apologize. Maybe he just hadn’t given him the chance. He’d been so quick to push him away, to assume the worst. But now, sitting here, where the anger, irritation, and shame have faded, all that’s left is guilt curling in his stomach. Eventually, he looks back up at him and manages to part his lips. “I’m sorry,” He starts, and Jeong-In raises an eyebrow.

“For?” The young alpha tilts his head. “I should be the one apologizing. I understood your reaction, though I can promise you I’m not entirely Carrie’s like my sister. I…believe your part in the situation. Irene was in the wrong, accident or not. I just thought I’d apologize, too, since everyone seems to think I’m out to get you—which wasn’t entirely wrong at first. I didn’t…find it easy to like you. I assumed you’d be like every other engagement when my sister would have been a better choice for Hyun-Jin. But now, I’ve come to realize he prefers you over anyone else, so that’s out of the question.” There’s no anger in his tone, no resentment—just an acceptance Felix never thought he’d hear.

“I didn’t make it easy, either,” Felix admits, voice quieter. “I was defensive. Maybe I still am.”

Jeongin lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t blame you. I was a bit insensitive.”

Felix stared at him for another moment, searching for any trace of insincerity, but there’s none. Just honesty. And maybe something like regret. “You were,” Felix agrees, but his lips twitch slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to make it clear he doesn’t mean it harshly.

Jeong-in smirks. “At least you’re honest.” Jeong-in finally says, leaning back. “But please don't think I dislike you, Felix.”

“Alright,” Felix says, something loosening in his chest.

Maybe that’s enough for now.

“There’s one more thing, though. What were you doing outside like that?”

Felix shrugs, almost like he’s brushing off something unimportant. “I don’t like thunder,” He says. “So I was a bit…scared.”

“I see,” Jeong-In nods slowly—not judging, just thoughtful. “If you need any assistance during this weather, don’t hesitate to ask.”

When Ji-sung returns with his clothes, Hyun-Jin is alongside him with the gift basket in hand that he sets down. It’s cleaned now, less roughed up, and the items were placed neatly back in an organized group. To give him room to change, they all leave, and once he finishes—it’s only Hyun-Jin that comes back inside. There, he doesn’t expect Hyun-Jin to sit beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touch.

A quiet moment passes between them.

“Thank you for the gift,” Hyun-Jin begins, his voice softer than Felix has ever heard it. “It was very thoughtful, and I’ll make sure to use everything you bought well.”

Felix looks at him, partially confused and partially fond. “It was ruined,” He says. “And you still want it?”

Hyun-Jin lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “It wasn’t ruined. Just a little messy, and I fixed that. The ink wasn’t salvageable, but it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault you fell.” He runs a finger along the edge of the couch. “Besides, it’s from you. That makes it worth more than anything else I could’ve received tonight.”

Felix feels warmth creep up his neck. He doesn’t know what to say to that right away, so he looks down at his hands instead. “Still, is there anything else I can do to make up for it? Even if you like it, I feel it isn’t enough.”

“If I say no that there isn’t, will you still push?” Hyun-Jin ponders.

Felix nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. It would feel wrong to him not to.

Hyun-Jin crosses his arms, eyes narrowing slightly—not in judgment, but as if weighing something carefully. He holds Felix’s gaze for a moment too long, and just when Felix starts to squirm under the silence, Hyun-Jin parts his lips to say something he never imagined would come from him—

“You could kiss me,” He says quietly, “in return.”

Felix goes still. The words don’t register at first, not properly. His breath hitches, his mouth parting in stunned confusion. He blinks, once, twice. “What?”

Hyun-Jin doesn’t flinch. His head tilts slightly, and a soft, almost shy curve touches his lips—not quite a smile, not quite teasing. “You heard me,” he murmurs, voice warm, low. “If you’re really insistent on making it up to me…then kiss me. Call it another gift.”

Felix’s pulse stutters, thundering in his chest. The chill of the storm still clings to him, but heat floods his cheeks, pooling at the base of his neck. His thoughts are tangled, fraying apart the longer Hyun-Jin looks at him like that—gentle, patient, and something else he can’t name. He should speak. Say something. Laugh it off or deflect. But nothing comes.

Hyun-Jin shifts slightly closer, the distance between them shrinking. “Or,” He says softly, gaze lowering just a little, “Do you not want to?”

That’s what finally breaks Felix’s silence.

He hesitates, his eyes flicking from Hyun-Jin’s face to his lips, and back again. He’s still unsure—unsure of so many things. But not this.

Just as Hyun-Jin begins to grow self-conscious, the boldness draining from his posture, Felix leans forward and reaches out. He grabs Hyun-Jin’s suit collar with trembling fingers and pulls him in for a soft kiss. Their lips meet in a fleeting, gentle peck—so brief that it’s almost like he’s afraid of lingering too long, of what it might mean if he does. When Felix pulls back, his lips quiver faintly. He doesn’t let go of Hyun-Jin’s collar just yet, though. Doesn’t move too far. Doesn’t get up and shyly excuse himself altogether. His eyes flicker up, uncertain, searching for some kind of reaction.

Hyun-Jin’s face is a red mess, his usual composure shattered into something utterly speechless. His lips part slightly like he wants to say something—maybe to tease, maybe to demand more—but nothing comes out. Instead, he just stares at Felix, wide-eyed, caught between shock and something else. Something more. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, but he still can’t find his words.

So Felix forces himself to speak again. “Hyun-Jin?”

Hyun-Jin exhales sharply, forcing himself to look anywhere but Felix’s heart-shaped lips. He folds his hands together and interlocks his fingers tightly so he doesn’t reach out—doesn’t pull Felix back in, no matter how much he wants to. “You—” He pauses, blinking fast. “…Thank you.” His voice is quieter than before, almost uncertain like he’s still processing what just happened.

Felix stares at him for a second, his own face warm. Then, as if realizing what he just did, he lets go of Hyun-Jin’s collar and sits back, bringing up two fingers to feel his pulse. “You’re welcome.”

The silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. If anything, there’s something strangely soft about it—about the way Hyun-Jin keeps glancing at him from the corner of his eye, about the way Felix’s fingers still tingle from where they’d gripped his shirt. Neither of them says anything else, but somehow, nothing needs to be said.

The grand banquet hall is lively when they return, filled with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the soft melody of a string quartet playing in the background. Golden chandeliers cast a warm glow over the polished floors, and the scent of rich foods and fine wines lingers in the air. Felix hadn’t planned on staying long still, but with Hyun-Jin leading him down the stairs, their fingers still entwined, he didn’t have much of a choice now. The moment they step further into the room, two figures swiftly flank him on either side. “I almost thought you’d never show up!” Irene exclaims, dramatically wiping a fake tear from her eye.

Yeji smirks, folding her arms. “Why are you so late to your husband’s party?”

“Well, I was actually informed there would be no need for me to come…so I was unsure.”

Yeji frowns, her playful demeanor shifting. “What? Who would say that?”

“Calcifer, apparently,” Hyun-Jin answers before Felix can. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it, his expression darkening slightly. “I will speak with him after this event.”

Yeji and Irene exchange glances, clearly not liking the sound of that.

Irene clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “That slimy little—honestly, what was he thinking? You’re Hyun-Jin’s spouse. Why wouldn’t you be here?”

Felix shrugs, but there’s a bitterness in the way he does it. “I guess he thought it’d be better if I stayed behind.”

“Or he thought it’d be better if Hyun-Jin didn’t have you by his side,” Yeji mutters under her breath. “That’s ridiculous. I prayed we wouldn’t run into any more people within the castle that don’t accept your engagement, but it seems that hasn’t been answered.”

Hyun-Jin sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to ruin the night with this, but I won’t let it go unaddressed.” His gaze softens as he looks at Felix. “I’m just glad he came anyway.”

Felix’s heart clenches at that, but before he can respond, Irene clasps her hands together. “Alright, enough of this. You’re here now, so let’s make sure you both enjoy yourselves. It’s a party, after all!”

The shift in conversation is welcome, and Felix allows himself to relax. But before he can fully settle into the conversation, a small blur of energy comes barreling toward him. He barely has time to react before tiny arms wrap around his body, nearly squeezing the breath out of him. “Hi, Goldie! Cousin Jin invited us to see you!” Anayia exclaims, her voice bright with excitement as she clings to him.

Felix blinks, his hands instinctively coming up to steady her. “Us?”

As if on cue, another pair of footsteps rushes toward them, slightly more controlled but no less urgent. Felix turns just in time to see a slightly older boy slowing down, his expression somewhere between exasperation and fondness as he reaches for Anayia’s arm. “Anayia, you can’t just keep jumping on him like that,” The boy scolds gently, trying to pull her away to no avail.

“How are you doing, Anai?” Felix asks, his voice softening.

Anai stops and straightens up, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes as if to maintain some level of dignity despite the situation. “I’m fine. Better than her, clearly,” He says, though there’s no real bite to his words. “How are you doing, Prince Felix?”

“Good,” Felix chuckles, his heart warming at the sight of them both. He squeezes Anayia’s hand before ruffling Anai’s hair, earning a small huff of protest. “I’m really happy to see you guys,” Felix murmurs, feeling some of the weight from earlier lift off his shoulders. Felix looks up at Hyun-Jin, who has been watching the interaction with a small, knowing smile. “Can I take them to get something to eat?” He asks. “I swear I’ll be right back,”

Hyun-Jin chuckles. “You don’t have to ask for my permission, Lix.” He says, squeezing Felix’s hand before letting go. “Go ahead.”

With that, Felix gently ushers Anayia and Anai toward the banquet tables, where an impressive spread of food awaits. The children practically drag him forward, eyes sparkling at the variety of dishes laid out before them. “Whoa,” Anayia breathes, practically vibrating with excitement. “I want that one! And that one! And—”

Anai sighs, shaking his head. “You haven’t even said what they are.”

Felix laughs softly as he helps Anayia and Anai pick out their plates of food, crouched low to help Anai reach the stack of tongs at the corner of the banquet table. He gently warns Anayia not to stack too many sweets on her plate—only to relent when she pouts, muttering, “But Uncle Jin said we could have whatever we wanted.”

“Only because he won’t be the one dealing with the sugar crash later,” Felix mumbles, rolling his eyes fondly as he balances the weight of both their dishes. But just as he straightens, he hears a familiar voice behind him—clear, amused, and dipped in an unmistakable Australian accent.

“Well, this is unexpected.”

Felix turns, eyebrows shooting up, and for a moment, he’s frozen. Standing just a few feet away is a princess adorned in rich violet silks trimmed with black lace and black embroidery. Her dark hair is gathered in a braided crown, a striking contrast to her cool, unreadable eyes as she scans him—slowly, carefully—before flicking her gaze to the two children at his side. “Hannah?” Felix breathes out, the name slipping from his lips as his mind struggles to catch up. “What are you…I didn’t think—”

“I know,” She says lightly, crossing her arms as her earrings sway with the movement. “It’s been a while.”

Felix blinks at her, still processing her presence in this place of all places. “Yeah…it has.”

Anayia tugs on the hem of his sleeve, her voice a hushed whisper full of curiosity. “Who’s she?”

Before he can answer, Hannah glances down and arches a brow at the child. “My name is Hannah. Princess Hannah Bang of Ravena.” She lowers into a half-curtsy, which makes Anayia beam with delight. “I suppose you could say I’m an old friend of your Felix.”

Anai peers up at her, then back at Felix, frowning. “You never said you knew a princess.”

Felix shrugs with a soft chuckle. “Well, it’s not the sort of thing that comes up during snack time.”

Hannah watches him carefully for a beat, her expression relaxing into something more genuine. “So…are you happy to see me?”

He hesitates. Not because he isn’t, but because he’s still stunned by her presence. “I’m just…surprised, is all. What happened never affected how I feel about you all. I didn’t expect to see you here, though.”

Hannah raises a perfectly shaped brow. “Is it really that strange for a princess to attend a friend’s banquet?”

Felix tilts his head. “Well…yes,” He admits. “Considering everything, I thought Ravena might keep its distance.”

She glances down at the children again—at Anayia, now curiously poking at her mashed potatoes with a stick of celery—and her expression softens. “Some of us never wanted to stay away. And some of us…never got to say goodbye.”

Felix’s smile fades slightly, eyes searching hers. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“No,” She agrees. “But that didn’t make it easier.”

There’s a pause—a quiet one—not heavy, but thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, before it can settle into something too serious, Anayia pipes up again.

“Can she sit with us?” She asks, already moving to make space at their table without waiting for an answer.

Felix laughs. “I was just about to ask her that.”

Hannah grins. “Then I’d be honored.”

As they move together toward the table, trays in hand and children chattering between them, Felix finds himself glancing sideways at her, grateful—truly—for this unexpected reunion.

He pulls out a chair for them all before sitting himself, and when he glances at Hannah again, she’s already looking at him with that calculating gaze of hers. “So,” She starts, resting her chin on her hand. “Catch me up, Felix. It seems a lot has changed since I last saw you.”

Felix exhales, a small, tired smile playing on his lips. “Yeah…you could say that. My mother decided she wouldn’t halt planning my engagements and so I ended up here. It isn’t bad, though. I…I actually like it here.”

“And the Prince? Is he better than my brother?”

Felix quiets. “Well…”

“I’m not gonna be offended either way. I’m just curious. We were all worried, you know.”

“Right, I’m sorry—“

“There you go. Although your atmosphere has changed you’re still the same personality-wise. You really have to stop apologizing, Felix.”

“Yes, I’m working on that. Hyun-Jin has told me that too.”

“Good,” She smiles. “Rather, we should be the ones apologizing. Your engagement with my brother ended so abruptly despite being one day away from confirming it. I swear my parents never wanted to send you back, Felix. You know that, right?” She sighs, eyes flickering with something close to regret. “You were thriving in Ravena. My brother was fond of you, and the council was growing to accept you despite their initial hesitation. We were one day away from finalizing everything. But then…” She trails off, her fingers tapping lightly against the table.

Anai and Anayia are quiet now, sensing the shift in mood.

Felix swallows. “What happened?”

Hannah exhales. “A letter arrived. No name, no seal—just a message written in ink so dark it nearly bled through the parchment.” Her gaze meets his, steady and serious. “It said, If we confirm the engagement, Ravena will burn. And you will watch it happen. My parents thought it was a bluff at first,” Hannah continues. “But then, later that night, all of the palace watchmen went missing. We found them the next morning—dead in the gardens, a dagger through each of their chests. The same ink from the letter was smeared across their hands and mouth.” She pauses, glancing at the children to make sure it’s okay to go on. “It wasn’t just a warning, Felix. It was a promise.”

Felix feels his pulse in his throat. His mind races, thoughts spiraling, unraveling as the truth settles in. His first thought is it had to be Jiho’s doing. Whether it was him or he hired someone else—he’s the only one bold enough. He’s always the reason he gets sent back home, whether for a gathering, being out too long exploring, or just trying to live his own life.

“I’m sorry,” Hannah says softly. “My parents—our kingdom—couldn’t risk it so soon after a war. We had to let you go.”

Felix exhales shakily, forcing himself to nod. “No it’s okay, I understand. I wouldn’t want anyone to be in danger because of me. But…speaking of your brother, where is he?”

-.-.-

The carriage rolled to a stop before the grand castle, its black exterior blending seamlessly with the night. A footman hurried to open the door, but Christopher Bang—Prince of Ravena—remained still inside, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee. He was dressed in all black—an elegant, tailored coat with silver embroidery at the cuffs, fastened over a high-collared shirt of fine silk. A chain of dark metal was draped across his chest, clipped to the lapel of his coat, and his dark brown mullet curled at the nape of his neck.

A voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Your Highness? We have arrived.” His attendant’s tone was neutral but firm. “You’re an hour late, and I’m sure your sister has already made her way inside.”

Chan exhales, his grip tightening on his gloves before he finally moves. “That’s fine,” He says, adjusting the cuffs of his coat. “I’ll only be here for a moment. I just wanted to congratulate Prince Hyun-Jin. Then we’ll be on our way, so please park the carriage.”

His attendant hesitates. “Ah, I see. So you won’t stay and try to speak with Prince Lee? Likely, he’s here.”

Chan falters at the name. Felix.

His mouth presses into a thin line. “No…I…I just thought he wouldn’t want to see me.”

The attendant didn’t respond right away, but Chan could feel the question lingering in the air between them. “Sire, I doubt that’s the case.”

Chan adjusts the collar of his coat again, more to distract himself than anything. “I’m not here to ruin his experience,” He adds quietly, voice almost lost beneath the distant sound of laughter from the banquet hall.

“Very well,” The attendant says, bowing slightly. “I’ll see to it.”

Chan nods without looking back. His polished boots click against the stone path as he makes his way toward the entrance. The closer he got, the more the noise of celebration pressed against his ears—music, conversation, joy. Just a moment, he told himself again. Just long enough to say the words and go.

But of course, he couldn’t stick to that.

The moment he steps inside the main hall, he catches sight of Felix near the dessert table, crouched beside a young girl who was feeding him something from her plate with a giggle. There was an older boy beside her, tugging on Felix’s sleeve to show him something he’d drawn on a napkin, and near them—was his sister Hannah. Felix smiles and gently reaches out to fix the girl’s crown where it had slipped sideways on her curls.

Chan swallows hard.

He hadn’t seen Felix in months—maybe longer—but the memories felt close. Too close. Just as he steps forward, though, perhaps to walk away—or maybe go to greet him when he shouldn’t be—someone calls out his name. “Prince Bang!” A familiar voice from a Prince from a neighboring kingdom, the kingdom of Sprile.

Chan halts, his jaw tightening just slightly before he forced a polite smile and turned toward the voice. It was Prince Marius of Sprile, dressed in their kingdom’s usual warm golds and mossy greens, with his ever-present air of effortless charm. “Prince Bang,” Marius greets again, this time with a clap on Chan’s shoulder. “I thought you weren’t going to make it.”

Chan gives a small bow of his head. “My apologies. I was delayed.” His eyes flicker—just once—back to where Felix stood.

Marius doesn’t miss it. His grin curves knowingly. “Ah, I see. Delayed…or perhaps reconsidering something?”

Chan doesn’t answer. His hands, still gloved, folded behind his back.

Marius chuckles. “Well, if you’re looking for company, don’t let me stop you. I only came to say hello before I disappeared to the wine.” With that, he saunters off with the lazy elegance of someone who’d never once had to force a smile.

And Chan—Chan was left standing in the middle of the ballroom, unsure whether to speak to Hyun-Jin now or follow the instinct pulling him back toward Felix. But before he can decide, Felix turns slightly and catches him staring. Their eyes locked. And even from across the room, Chan can see the emotions that passed over Felix’s face. The hesitation. The unspoken history.

He should’ve looked away, but instead, he took a step forward.

Felix blinks, as if unsure whether he is imagining things. His lips part slightly, and he stands up straighter, excusing himself from them with a gentle pat on Anai’s shoulder. Chan’s feet carry him forward before he can even think better of it, closing the space between them. “…Felix,” Chan said first, quieter than he meant to.

Felix stops just a step away, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Chan,” He starts, and though the name left his lips softly, it still hit like a weight in his chest.

There was a beat of silence.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you,” Felix admits.

Chan’s mouth curved in a way that wasn’t quite a smile. “Neither was I. I didn’t think I’d be allowed to.”

Felix shook his head a little. “Hannah told me everything. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I abandoned you,”

“You did what was best,” Felix corrects, his voice calm but strained. “There’s a difference.”

Chan looks at him, something tight flickering in his jaw. “Maybe. But I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Felix’s gaze drops. His fingers curl into the fabric of his sleeves. “That’s okay,”

“No. I…I still should’ve explained,” Chan says quickly, like the words had been trapped for months. “But the moment I thought I could—when I had the chance—it was too late. You were already gone. And I—” He exhaled shakily. “I didn’t know if I was allowed to reach out after that. Do you…hate me for what happened?” Chan asked though he was afraid to hear the answer.

Felix takes a breath and shakes his head. “I could never hate you.”

Chan’s eyes search his face, the quiet longing in his chest threatening to crack open. “I’m glad…really. And—I’ve thought about you. Every day.”

“I know,” Felix said gently. “…Me too.”

A long pause hung between them—soft, heavy, and full of things neither of them could say aloud. Then, from the corner of the room, someone called Felix’s name. A child’s voice. Felix looked over his shoulder, then back at Chan with a wistful smile. And next—slowly—he stepped closer. Chan mirrored the motion. When their arms came around each other, it was tentative at first—then firm. Chan buried his face in Felix’s shoulder for just a moment without care to those watching, exhaling like he’d been holding his breath for years. Felix’s fingers curled into the back of Chan’s coat, grounding himself. They stayed like that, a beat too long to be casual, but too short to be more.

Chan’s voice was muffled, barely audible. “I missed you.”

Felix didn’t answer—he couldn’t. And when they finally pulled back, he was the first to smile—small, tired, but real. “I should go back,” He says gently.

Chan’s hands slip away. “Right, right—you’re probably busy. Though…Am I allowed to write to you?”

Felix nods. “Of course, I’d love to hear how things have been going every so often over there. It’s good to see you, Chan. Really.”

Chan bows his head slightly. “Thank you. You too. I wish you the best in your marriage. I’m going to go deliver my gifts and find Hyun-Jin now. May the sun shine upon you, Felix.” He bowed. And just like that, they parted.

From the balcony, Irene watched with a complicated look on her face. She leaned on the railing, letting out a soft scoff before slipping away, her heels clicking softly against the polished floors as she made her way down the stairwell. She found Hyun-Jin exactly where she expected—standing near the bottom of the stairs, a glass of wine in his hand.

He had long since excused himself from the center of attention—though, from what Irene had heard, it took some clever maneuvering (and a thin veil of threats) to escape the parade of nobles trying to introduce him to their daughters despite the ring he now wore. “Alone finally, Prince?” She started, walking over to him slowly and gracefully with her hands behind her back.

Hyun-Jin didn’t turn his head. He simply nodded, eyes pinned to the ballroom floor, his grip tightening faintly around the stem of his glass. Irene joined him at his side, hands clasped behind her back as she leaned in slightly, watching him. “Why the bitter mood?” She asked with an all-too-knowing smile. “I take it, you saw them?”

That earned her a sidelong glance—intense with a warning. But he didn’t deny it. Irene followed his gaze through the sea of dancing nobles and polished finery until she spotted him—Felix, surrounded by the two little cousins again. Further off, Chan stood watching from a polite distance, hands folded in front of him. There was something unmistakably tender in his posture.

She let out a breathy hum. “My friends tell me they used to be quite the pair,” She said, almost dreamily. “You wouldn’t think it looking at them now, but they were…hopeless for each other, once. Engaged, even.”

Hyun-Jin’s eyes flicked toward her again, this time sharper. She smiled like she hadn’t noticed.

“It was a serious thing. He made Chan smile, even when the boy didn’t think he could. And Felix—” she paused, lips twitching with a grin. “—well, Felix practically glowed around him.”

Hyun-Jin’s jaw tightened. “Why are you telling me this?”

Irene shrugged. “Because it’s true.” Then, after a beat, she added, “And maybe because I thought it might matter. You seem awfully calm for someone watching his fiancé hug and reunite with a former lover.”

His silence was stony, but telling. Irene caught the shift in his breathing, the way his thumb tapped slowly against the glass like he was working through an equation he didn’t like the answer to. “Relax, Prince,” She drawled. “I’m not saying he’ll run off with him. You’re the one he married, after all. You won. Still…” She tilted her head, pretending to be thoughtful. “I suppose it’s only natural to feel a little…unsettled.”

Hyun-Jin finally turned to face her fully, expression unreadable. “What do you want, Irene?”

Her smile faltered for the briefest second. “To talk.”

“You endangered Felix,” He cut in coldly. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that.”

Irene blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, she was stripped of her usual poise. Then she straightened. “I didn’t mean to. You know that.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you were still careless,” He said evenly. “And now you’re here, whispering poison like it’s a gift. If you think I’ll be baited, you’re wasting your breath.”

That finally silenced her. At least, for a moment.

Hyun-Jin looked away again, eyes drifting back toward the spot where Felix stood—now laughing softly as Anai tugged him toward something at the dessert table.

“All that matters is that I trust him,” Hyun-Jin said quietly, more to himself than to her.

Irene gave a soft, breathy laugh, not mocking but not innocent either. “Then I suppose we’ll see if that trust holds.”

-.-.-

Later in the night, Hyun-Jin ends up finding Chan on one of the quieter balconies, leaning against the stone railing with a drink in hand. The distant music of the banquet still floats in the air, but it’s muted out here—calmer. Chan doesn’t turn when the door creaks open behind him, but his shoulders tense just slightly, as if he already knows who it is.

“I figured you wouldn’t leave without saying hello,” Hyun-Jin says, stepping out beside him.

Chan’s lips twitch into something like a smile. “You know me too well.”

They stand there for a moment, side by side, neither speaking.

“You look good,” Hyun-Jin says after a beat. “The black suits you. A bit dark, though.”

Chan huffs softly. “That’s the point.”

Hyun-Jin narrows his eyes. “And are you here for the dramatics?”

Chan doesn’t answer right away. He swirls the water in his glass before finally murmuring, “I came to congratulate you. That’s all.”

Hyun-Jin nods, eyes still on the night sky. “I appreciate it.”

Another pause. Longer this time. The weight of something unspoken hovers between them.

“I didn’t expect to see him again,” Chan admits.

“And yet you did anyway.” Hyun-Jin’s response is quick.

Chan gives a low laugh, dry and tired. “What can I say? I’m not great at staying away.”

Hyun-Jin finally turns to look at him directly. “I’ve been told you two were…close. Why does it seem like I’m the only one who didn’t know?”

Chan hesitates. “I'm not sure. Though…I wouldn’t call us close, necessarily. We were going to be more than that.”

Hyun-Jin raises an eyebrow, folding his arms. “I heard.”

“Are you upset?” Chan asks, turning toward him now.

“No,” Hyun-Jin replies. Then, with a sharp exhale, “But…do you think it’s possible he still loves you?”

Chan shakes his head—not yes, but no. “Of course not. We’re only good friends now, and that was made clear. However, I won’t lie and say that still doesn’t hurt. That it didn’t feel like losing someone I held so dearly.”

“You didn’t lose him,” Hyun-Jin murmurs. “You let him go, no?”

“And you’re the one holding him now?” Chan’s voice isn’t bitter—just honest.

Hyun-Jin doesn’t answer, and Chan gives him a look, long and searching. “Then don’t let him slip through your fingers. He’s changed, yet I can’t tell if he’s gotten better or worse. He still holds everyone at a distance.”

“What do you mean?” Hyun-Jin furrows his eyebrows.

Chan shakes his head dismissively. “It’s just a feeling—though I may be reading into it too much. He’s gentle but oddly careful. As if he’s afraid being too happy will cost him something. I don’t know what happened after he left Ravena, but I know he’s not just naturally shy or reserved. And maybe you see that. Maybe you don’t.”

Hyun-Jin stares ahead, expression unreadable. He does see—that much is clear—and at the mention, his mind drifts unwillingly to a memory that clings to him like mist. When they were at the stables and Felix had shockingly broken down into a panic attack. He had curled his arms around himself to hide the way his shoulders shook. Felix tried to fix himself, say something, brush it off with a smile like he always did. But that day, the mask didn’t hold. He had never felt more helpless seeing him like that. All he could do was stay beside him and hold him until his breathing slowed. That memory never left him. And now, standing beside Chan, he felt the weight of it all over again.

Hyun-Jin’s hands fell to his sides, tense. “I do…notice things,” He starts. “Felix isn’t your typical prince, and that’s part of his charm. I can swear to you I’ll take care of him well,”

Chan studies him carefully, thoughtfully. “I believe you,” He says after a beat. “You’re not careless.”

That should be reassuring, and maybe it is, but there’s still something shadowed in Chan’s gaze. He turns back toward the dark skyline, the wind teasing the edge of his coat.

“But?” Hyun-Jin prompts.

Chan’s jaw tenses. “But caring for Felix isn’t just about being kind to him. It’s about knowing when to wait…and when to reach for him anyway. I’m sure you know he doesn’t tell you everything. Not right away. Maybe not ever. Not unless you make him feel like he can. And even then…sometimes, well, don’t pay too much attention to my words. I only have speculation.” He offers a small, almost apologetic smile, then gives Hyun-Jin a nod—one that feels both like farewell and understanding. Then he steps away, the soft sound of his shoes disappearing into the distance.

Hyun-Jin stays rooted in place.

The balcony is quiet now, the stars above cold and far away. His hand brushes the edge of the stone railing, grounding himself. And still, his mind turns. Chan’s words linger—not sharp, not accusatory, just honest.

He breathes in the cool night air and closes his eyes briefly. And then, he turns and walks back inside, where the sound of the banquet rises once again. The crowd is thick, voices overlapping in waves of conversation and laughter, but he’s already scanning for him—Felix. He pushes through gently, ignoring the glances thrown his way. Courtiers bow. Daughters smile. Birthday wishes are called. A noble tries to catch his arm. But he doesn’t stop. He checks near the dessert table first, where the kids had gathered earlier, but only crumbs remain on the plates, and the chairs are empty. He moves to the far end of the ballroom, near the musicians. Nothing.

Then—he spots the familiar blonde figure just at the entrance archway leading out. Felix. He’s kneeled beside Anayia and the Anai child, helping them with something—maybe their coats or their gloves as their parents are waiting outside. There’s a soft smile on his face, small but warm, and it tugs at something deep in Hyun-Jin’s chest. He slows then—doesn’t call out, doesn’t step forward right away. He just watches. Watches for a second longer than he should. Watches the way he gently brushes hair out of Anayia’s eyes, listens to the way he laughs, and he’s surprisingly endeared.

Not just by how sweet Felix is with the children, but by how unaware he is of how lovely he looks in this light. How naturally he draws people to him. How his presence quiets things—not in a silencing way, but in a soothing one.

And Hyun-Jin, despite the weight in his chest from earlier, finds himself exhaling a little softer. A little lighter. (He didn’t know he was grinning until he caught himself doing it.)

Then, slowly, he steps forward.

Felix doesn’t notice him at first, too focused on adjusting the child’s sleeve and making sure the scarf isn’t too tight. But Anayia spots him over Felix’s shoulder and grins. “Your Jinjin is here,” She whispers with a teasing lilt.

Felix blinks, then turns slightly—and when his eyes meet Hyun-Jin’s, there’s a flicker of something soft and surprised in them—like he’s embarrassed for a reason unknown to him.

Hyun-Jin glances briefly at the children. “You’ve become quite the favorite.”

Felix brushes off his pants and stands. “I was just helping them,” He says, as if that explains why Anaiyia and Anai stay glued to him more than anyone else; as if they don’t request to see him every time they’re at the castle.

“And that’s fine,” Hyun-Jin says, stepping forward and taking his hand. It’s a bit cold but soft.

Shortly, the children wave and say their goodbyes, giggling as they run off to join their parents in the carriage.

Felix stares at their hands—specifically how Hyun-jin is rubbing his dorsal with his thumb. “Hyun-Jin, possibly…did you drink…?”

Hyun-Jin raises a brow, his lips tugging into the smallest, guilty smile. “A little,” He admits. “Did it show?”

Felix nods slowly. “You’re warmer than usual,” He murmurs. “And…touchier.”

“You’re not complaining,” Hyun-Jin says lightly.

“I’m not,” Felix agrees. “Though, shouldn’t we go back in?”

Hyun-Jin shakes his head. “Everyone will start leaving soon, it’s about over.”

Felix glances back toward the glow of the ballroom, and it’s just as he said. Through the open archway, guests can be seen beginning to say their farewells, swirling in small groups, coats draped over arms, laughter softening with the night.

A call of his name has his attention back on Hyun-Jin. “Hmm?”

“I was going to ask if I could be greedy,” Hyun-Jin says.

“Greedy?”

Hyun-Jin gives him a faint, lopsided smile. “Yes, as in another birthday gift from you,”

“Of course. I don’t mind. Did you want more art supplies? Or anything similar?”

There's something more tender beneath the words. “No, but would you stay with me tonight?”

Felix stills slightly—turning his head to look around—making sure no one is close. “To sleep in your room again?” Felix clarifies, quiet.

Hyun-Jin nods once. “It may be a little inappropriate to keep asking, I know. I just—” He looks down for a second, almost sheepish, and then back up again. “I want to wake up with you there. That’s all.”

There’s a beat. And then Felix smiles. “Alright. I’ll stay.”

The words seem to settle something between them. Hyun-Jin’s eyes soften as he leads Felix down the hall. The castle feels quieter now—still humming from the afterglow of the banquet, but hushed in the way late hours always are.

When they reach his room, Hyun-Jin opens the door, letting Felix step in first. The lights are dim, warm. The night stretches around them like something sacred. Felix wanders toward the window, gazing out at the moonlit gardens. “The night air’s nice.”

“Not too cold?” Hyun-Jin asks, coming up beside him.

Felix shakes his head. “Not with this view.”

Hyun-Jin hums in agreement. After a moment, he asks, “Did you enjoy the party?”

Felix turns his head slightly, smiling. “I did. It was very fun, I enjoyed it a lot. You looked happy.”

“I was,” Hyun-Jin replies, his voice low. “Having you there made it better.”

Felix looks down, shy, almost, brushing his thumb against the windowsill. “I’m glad.”

Hyun-Jin studies him for a moment longer. He doesn’t press, doesn’t prod into what lies beneath Felix’s gentle smile or what shadows might linger behind his eyes—doesn’t mention anything Chan said. He simply lets the silence settle around them like a shared breath.

“Do you want to borrow something to sleep in?” He asks after a moment.

Felix lifts a brow. “Just so I can keep it again?”

Hyun-Jin laughs softly. “Maybe. This time I’ll give you something better, though, only if you promise not to vanish before I wake up.”

Felix grins, warm and fond, stepping away from the window. “I promise.”

At that, Hyun-Jin turns toward the wardrobe, opening it to pull out a soft, warm pajama set—one of his favorites, actually, though he says nothing about that part. It may be a little too big for Felix, but that can be fixed. He tosses it to the omega, who catches it with ease and gives it an approving glance. “This one smells like you,” He murmurs.

“Do I want to know what that means?” Hyun-Jin teases, raising an eyebrow as he watches Felix hold it up for inspection.

“It means you use good laundry soap,” Felix replies smoothly, turning away quickly. “I'll be using the shower first if you don’t mind,”

“Sure,” Hyun-Jin watches Felix walk off, and tinting his ears, he can see a dust of red. 

Chapter Text

Felix lies still, the weight of a blanket draped loosely over them both, his back pressed lightly to HyunJin’s chest. The room is quiet, dimly lit by the faint glow of the candles left on across the room. He can hear HyunJin’s breathing—soft, even, almost calm enough to lull him to sleep.

He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened.

One moment, he was drying his hair with a towel, HyunJin disappearing into the bathroom after he got out. Next, he was being pulled gently into bed and molded into a position before he could think better of it. And now—HyunJin’s arm is around his waist, not tight, but there. Secure. Present. Felix stares ahead at particularly nowhere, his thoughts as restless as ever. The room smells faintly of cinnamon spice and something deeper—something distinctly HyunJin. He doesn’t need to bury his face into the sheets to recognize the citrusy scent that belongs to him anymore.

The scent is strong. It always is when they’re close like this, skin to skin, warmth pressed between them. It’s not overwhelming—not yet—but it’s enough to make his pulse stutter. Enough that he wonders, very briefly, if he’ll wake up tomorrow in a heated state he shouldn’t be in yet. Felix bites down gently on his lip, curling his fingers around the edge of the blanket. (Briefly, he wonders, would being exposed to an alpha’s scent for too long…trigger his cycle? He’s slept in his room at least three days in a row now, after all. But even so—it should be okay. He’s taken precautions—and he’s already had his heat last month.)

Behind him, HyunJin shifts slightly, the slow drag of movement barely stirring the sheets. His arm tightens around Felix’s waist for just a second, as if instinctively pulling him closer in his sleep, before easing again into a relaxed hold. Then he feels the ghost of a soft exhale ghosting against the nape of his neck. It sends a subtle shiver down his spine.

And now that he thinks about it, it’s undeniable that HyunJin has taken a liking to him.

And maybe it’s always been there since the start, subtle and blooming in subtle ways—like the requests he gives without making them feel like obligations, or the way he shields him from the sharpness of others without drawing too much attention. Like how he pulls him close only when Felix seems like he needs it, or perhaps when he needs it more.

Felix shifts a little to face him, eyes scanning over HyunJin’s features. The soft mole under his eye, barely visible in the dim light. The way his lashes fan across his cheeks. The gentle slope of his nose. His long hair, still slightly damp from the bath, spills over the pillow in dark waves. His eyes flick lower, to HyunJin’s lips. He remembers the last time they kissed, the way it made his pulse race, the way it lingered in his chest for hours after. His heart stutters now just thinking about it. After a moment, Felix realizes he’s been staring for far too long—creepily long, in fact. His face flushes red, and he quickly turns back over, squeezing his eyes shut.

-.-

There are a lot of things Hyun-Jin loves to wake up to. One is the weight of a thick, warm and fuzzy blanket draped over him, shielding him from the cool morning air. He loves the way it surrounds him, the way the fabric traps the lingering heat of his body. Another, recently, is waking up to the presence of Felix beside him. The warmth that doesn’t just come from the blanket but from the omega’s body pressed close, something that makes him want to stay in bed just a little longer. He blinks slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the soft light, only to find the warmth beside him still intact. Felix is there—Curled slightly on his side, the covers tangled around his waist, one hand tucked beneath his cheek. His breathing is soft and even, lashes casting faint shadows over his cheeks. He didn’t vanish. He stayed.

He props himself up slightly, elbow resting against the pillow as he studies him. There’s something endlessly cute about the way Felix looks when he sleeps—unguarded, peaceful, almost delicate. The usual walls he wears during the day, even in the softest moments, are gone now. And it leaves something in his chest aching in the best, most infuriating way. He lets his eyes trace the slope of Felix’s nose, the heart-shaped curve of his lips, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, and there’s a fondness that settles over him. HyunJin brushes a stray lock of blonde hair from Felix’s face with the lightest touch, careful not to wake him.

He could get used to this—waking up like this.

But maybe he already has.

And, HyunJin hopes—quietly, selfishly—that Felix keeps his promise not just for today. But for all the times that might follow.

Yet, the warmth of that thought—the image of Felix here each morning—flickers as reality settles in again. HyunJin’s gaze shifts slightly, his brows furrowing with the reminder he’s been putting off.

Calcifer.

The meeting room is quiet, sunlit, and still—too still. Pale light from the snowy, cloudy skies spills in through the windows, painting long white lines across the wooden floor. The air carries a faint chill, not from the weather, but from the way HyunJin stands near the window with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes are distant, yet focused, like he’s been rehearsing what he’s about to say for hours. The door eventually clicks open behind him. Calcifer enters, his steps light, smooth. Always composed. Always neat. A small folder is tucked beneath his arm, likely anticipating business as usual.

“You wanted to see me?” Calcifer’s voice is polite, professional.

HyunJin doesn’t turn at first. He continues to look out the window, watching the branches sway in the breeze.

“I heard what you told Felix,” He says at last. The words are soft, almost casual.

Calcifer doesn’t answer right away. “If this is about the banquet—”

“You told him he couldn’t come, even though I specifically made it clear to staff I wanted him to attend.” Now HyunJin turns, slowly, gaze unkind. “Why is that?”

Calcifer draws in a slow breath. “It wasn’t meant to hurt him. I thought it would be simpler that way—he just took a fall not too long ago, after all. I was worried for his health, and I assumed—”

“No,” HyunJin interrupts, voice firmer now. “You didn’t assume. You decided. You lied. And you did it knowing exactly how he’d take it.”

Calcifer’s expression hardens. “My Prince, you’ve completely got it wrong. Given the image we’re trying to maintain for your relationship, I was also protecting his public—”

“Don’t,” HyunJin says, stepping forward now. There’s a weight to him. A silence that settles over the room like a veil. “Don’t try to frame this as loyalty. You crossed a line.”

Calcifer exhales through his nose. “I’ve always made choices that protect the royal fam—”

“And Felix is a part of this family. If he felt well enough, he should’ve been able to come. You don’t get to make choices pertaining him when he has a higher position over you.”

The words land heavily. HyunJin’s eyes are cold now, but not angry. There’s no rage. No yelling. That’s never been his way. It’s the calmness that makes it sting worse. “I trusted you,” He says, more quietly now. “I trusted you with things most people would never be allowed near. And I’m not sure when you started believing you were entitled to decide what’s best for me either. But that ends now.”

Calcifer straightens a bit. “You’re saying this is enough to dismiss me?”

“I’m saying,” HyunJin replies, cold and unmoved, “you’re expelled from this castle.”

The words fall heavy. The silence that follows is immediate—stifling. Even the fire in the hearth seems to dim in response.

Calcifer stares at him, disbelief flickering behind the sharpness of his features. “You’re making a mistake,” He says, voice low.

“No,” HyunJin says simply. “I’m correcting one.”

Calcifer’s mouth tenses, and for a moment, he looks as though he might say nothing at all. But then, bitterness creeps into his expression—an ugly twist of the lips. “Fine,” He spits. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you about him.”

HyunJin’s brows lift slightly.

“Prince Lee,” Calcifer says. “Your precious little prince. He’s not what you think he is. You believe he’s sweet and radiant and worth protecting, but he’s just as rotten as the rest. As the rumors say. He hides things, keeps secrets. Dangerous ones.”

“Felix doesn’t owe me his past, only what he chooses to share. I’ll continue to believe everything he says, because he’s never once asked me to.”

Calcifer’s face twists in frustration. “So you’ll ignore the warning signs? You’ll let him twist you around his finger like he does everyone else?”

“Leave,” HyunJin says, voice ironclad. “Before I decide you’re not even worth the mercy I’m giving you now.”

For a long moment, neither of them speaks. The ticking of a wall clock sounds louder than it should. Calcifer’s mouth opens as if to argue, but he sees something final in HyunJin’s eyes and stops. His jaw clenches. He nods, slowly, coldly. “I’ll have my office cleared by noon.”

HyunJin doesn’t reply.

The door closes quietly behind him.

For a moment, HyunJin just stands there. The tension in his shoulders doesn’t release right away. He’s not angry, not exactly. But there’s a tightness in his chest. A disappointment that lingers.

Somewhere down the hall, he knows Felix is probably still sleeping. Maybe stretching beneath warm covers, drowsy from sleep and comfort. Maybe waking up and wondering where HyunJin has gone.

And that thought cuts through everything else.

-.-

The bed is warm, the covers soft and slightly tangled around his legs. Felix stirs slowly, nose brushing against a pillow that doesn’t smell like him—cleaner, fuity, a hint of cologne beneath fresh silk. For a moment, he doesn’t open his eyes. He lets himself linger in the comfort, wrapped in warmth that doesn’t feel entirely his own, but not unfamiliar either. There’s a certain silence here that doesn’t belong to morning yet, like the day hasn’t decided to begin. The light pressing through the curtains is gentle, spilling across the sheets in lazy puddles. It kisses Felix’s cheek as he turns onto his side, his hand slipping from beneath the blanket to reach out instinctively—only to touch empty space.

His brows knit faintly. The other side of the bed is cold.

HyunJin isn’t there.

Felix blinks his eyes open, slow and heavy, adjusting to the light. His lashes flutter against the edge of the pillow as he lifts his head slightly and glances around. There’s no sign of HyunJin—not beside him, not near the bed, not leaning against the doorway as he sometimes does with that sleepy, fond smile. Felix props himself up on one elbow, hair tousled and messy from sleep, a faint crease pressed into his cheek from the pillow. He rubs his eye with the heel of his palm, the start of a yawn slipping past his lips.

The sheets are still ruffled where HyunJin must have been earlier, and that alone is enough to assure Felix he hadn’t imagined it—hadn’t just dreamed of curling into someone’s arms and finding comfort in a heartbeat that wasn’t anxiety ridden like his. Still, the emptiness beside him now makes his chest feel strange. Did HyunJin leave early? Was he called away? Did he break their (unspoken) promise? Felix made sure to stay here like Hyunjin asked in the morning, yet he didn’t fulfill his part in that.

Felix swings his legs over the side of the bed. The cool air touches his skin and he shivers a little, reaching for one of the thicker blankets and wrapping it around his shoulders like a shawl. His feet pad softly across the floor as he steps toward the door, but something catches his eye just before he reaches it.

There—curled up on the couch by the window—is HyunJin.

He’s sitting sideways, sketchpad resting on his lap, one leg drawn up, the other hanging off the edge. A pencil twirls between his fingers absentmindedly, his long hair put up into a half ponytail. The soft light filters through the windows behind him, framing his silhouette in a halo. His brows are slightly furrowed, not with frustration but with focus, and his lips move faintly like he’s murmuring to himself.

Felix stills, realization hits him all at once—how domestic this is. How gentle. He hadn’t been abandoned. HyunJin hadn’t left. He was just… letting him rest. Waiting. And something about that thought makes Felix’s heart ache a little in the best kind of way.

He clears his throat softly, a small noise to announce his presence.

HyunJin looks up at once, like he’d been waiting for it. His eyes soften the moment they land on Felix’s blanket-clad, barely awake figure. “You’re up,” HyunJin says, voice tinged with excitement.

“I thought you left,” Felix admits, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t,” HyunJin replies easily, smiling.

Felix’s face burns slightly, and he glances away quickly—but not before HyunJin sees the curve of his mouth twitch upward into a shy smile. “I see,” Not wanting to give himself completely away to embarrassment, Felix comes over and sinks down next to HyunJin. “How long have you been up?”

“Not that long.” HyunJin sets the sketchpad aside, giving him his full attention now. “Did you sleep alright?”

Felix nods. “Yeah…surprisingly well.”

“Good,” HyunJin grins, reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind Felix’s ear for him. They lie in silence for a beat, warm and slow, before HyunJin speaks again. “I wanted to tell you,” He says. “Calcifer won’t be a problem anymore.”

Felix blinks. “You…?”

“I dismissed him,” HyunJin says simply. “This morning. I should’ve done it earlier, even before you came, but he’s a trusted character of my father—who gave him too much leeway. I didn’t realize how far he’d been meddling until now.”

Felix exhales softly, his shoulders easing as the tension slides off him like a second skin. There’s genuine relief in his eye. “…Thank you,” He murmurs.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, really. It was needed.”

Felix offers a small smile in return, though it fades over time. His gaze drifts to the window. Calcifer was only one shadow. Just one obstacle in a palace full of careful lies, whispered judgments, and watching eyes. His absence was a win, yes—but it didn’t change the world they were in. Felix knew better than to feel fully safe.

(And maybe HyunJin knew it too.)

–

It’s well into the afternoon by the time Felix realizes it’s been three days. Three days since they were physically near each other. Two days since he’s properly seen HyunJin—really seen him, not just passing glimpses of his silhouette down long corridors or heard the faint cadence of his voice through the barrier of some meeting room door. One day—if even that—since he last told himself it was fine. That he wasn’t bothered. That it didn’t mean anything. That HyunJin was just busy, that his absence wasn’t a sign, just a result of duty. Politics. Meetings. But now, when another attendant came to him—again, with an apology and a message about an urgent matter, and again, not from HyunJin himself—it settled heavier. Before all of this, HyunJin had promised they’d go out so he could give Felix a tour of the kingdom tomorrow. “Just us,” He said, with that soft, gentle smile of his—and Felix had held onto that, maybe too tightly. But a day passed, then another, and the promise unraveled without warning. No word, no apology. Just space. Distance. A quiet, aching absence. And as the silence grew longer, so did the pit in Felix’s stomach, twisting into something uncertain and anxious.

However, he knows better than to feel bitter about it. He knows how responsibilities pull and how expectations demand; how the weight of a crown stretches a person thin. HyunJin doesn’t owe him every second of his time—just as Felix doesn’t owe him his. They’re not together like that. Not officially. Not completely close. Whatever they are, it’s delicate. Still forming, still finding its shape.

But if he has to admit, it’s been boring, quite so. He can barely leave the castle alone due to the snow getting heavier as the season goes on, and let alone does he know how to deal with the snow—growing up in warmer climates where winter was more of a gentle breeze than a blizzard. Here, it settles thick and cold over everything, turning the days into a quiet stretch of sameness. Time feels sluggish. He finds himself missing things he didn’t know he’d grown used to. Luckily, Yeji, Irene and the others stop by to see him from time to time. Sometimes Irene will invite him to do something, but he’ll decline, always with a smile, always with a careful “maybe next time”, when he has no intention of being alone with her.

Felix tells himself it’s silly, regardless.

He tells himself it’s just been a few days. And yet, that faint hum of disappointment lodges itself somewhere between his ribs and settles there like a splinter. It’s certainly silly, yet why does something feel off? Is HyunJin really that busy—that consumed with duties—that he can’t spare five minutes to speak with him personally? Even just a moment? And why is he prohibited from going near the alpha’s corridors, even just in passing? Why is he getting letters and messages and updates from everyone else—the event coordinator, the knights, the staff—everyone but Hyunjin himself?

Snow drifts gently past the windows like ash, and Felix leans his forehead against the glass of it, watching it fall. He’s halfway through counting a group of birds that fly by when there’s a soft knock at the door. “You can enter,” He calls out, glancing over his shoulder to find one of the castle messengers—young, nervous, shifting from foot to foot. He’s holding a slip of parchment in his gloved hand.

“His Highness’s physician requests your presence in the medical office,” He says with a short bow.

Felix blinks, surprised. “Minho?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Felix’s brows twitch slightly in confusion. “Now?”

“Yes, Your Highness. He said it’s not necessarily urgent, but…that it would be good to talk. Sooner rather than later.”

Felix hums in acknowledgment. Minho. Again. Their last meeting hadn’t gone poorly, but it hadn’t exactly left Felix at ease, either. He’s always known Minho to be sharp—kind, but intrusive in that unsettling, see through way. Like he knew things he shouldn’t, or at the very least suspected them with precision. There’s a particular kind of discomfort that comes with being studied like that, no matter how carefully it’s done. “…I’ll head there now then. Thank you.”

The walk to the medical wing is quiet, each step echoing slightly against the stone halls. The doors to office come into view a few minutes later. Light spills through a slightly parted doorway, warm and soft like the smell of herbs and parchment inside. Felix pauses just before entering, squaring his shoulders, then knocks once before slipping in. “You wanted to see me?”

Minho glances over with a grin. “Ah, yes. Because if I don’t ask to see you you’ll never come timely otherwise. Have a seat.” His tone is dry, but not unkind. He gestures loosely to the cushioned bench across from his desk, then continues scribbling a note on the chart he always has in front of him. Felix closes the door behind him and steps inside. The room smells like dried herbs and faint antiseptic, and the light from the windows pools in slanted lines across the wooden floor. He takes a seat, folding his hands in his lap.

“You’ve been eating?” Minho starts right away.

“Yes,” Felix answers, as if he even has a choice in when he does. “I haven’t…necessarily thrown anything up. But it’s still hard to keep it down sometimes.”

“Nonetheless, that’s good,” Minho says, his tone lightening just a little. “I’m happy you’re following through with this. I can tell you’ve gained a bit of weight in these few weeks. Not much, but…enough that I won’t lecture you today.”

Felix offers a small smile at the joke. “Is that all you wanted to see me for?”

Minho shakes his head. “You mentioned you had your heat last month, right? Every two months it comes, If I recall.”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And have you been exposed to HyunJin’s scent at all?” Minho asks, already flipping through a few pages in his notes, eyes not quite meeting Felix’s.

Felix hesitates. “A bit, but I haven’t been around him that much.”

“Hmm.” Minho clicks his pen against the desk and looks up, gaze perceptive. “Okay, that’s perfect. Now, did our dear prince tell you that his rut started this week?”

There’s a beat of silence.

“…What?” Felix asks, barely above a whisper.

“It’s not a full rut,” Minho explains, calm and clinical. “Not the kind that rushes through him like lava and renders him an animal. But it’s something. A feverish state—heightened senses, sensitivity, a dip in self regulation both emotionally and physically. Like I mentioned before, it will be mellow this month, but not without its toll.”

Felix’s brows draw together, tight with confusion and concern. “So this whole time…he wasn’t working?”

Minho shakes his head. “That’s correct.”

Felix’s voice tightens. “Why wasn’t I told earlier?”

“I assumed the Prince would’ve told you himself it’d be soon after the birthday banquet,” Minho replies simply. “But from what I understand, he wasn’t exactly in the state to explain much. It started about three days ago, early in the morning during training. He was rushed out before things escalated.”

“Why would things escalate? Because of the kind of power HyunJin holds?”

“Yes, that exactly. This month, I only estimated he’d experience a light fever—and technically, I was correct. But it’s more painful than we expected due to that power being unable to release in a long time,” Minho says plainly. “Our kingdom fought a few small wars last year—and he was able to manage. But now, that’s over with and we have a new omega in the vicinity—you—someone he clearly cares a great deal for. That changes things. An alpha responds differently when there’s someone nearby it recognizes as a potential bond. And even with the use of suppressants, a light cycle can still become difficult when hindered for too long.”

Felix sits still for a moment, the words settling in uncomfortably. His fingers twitch against his lap, mouth parting as if to speak, but no words come. Minho watches him carefully. He sees it—every flicker of nervousness, the tension curling up Felix’s spine, the anxiety working its way across his face. And beneath it all, a concern so deeply rooted it makes his own chest tighten familiarly. “I could permit you to see him,” He says at last, voice steady. “If you’d like.”

Felix’s eyes widen. “Is that okay?”

Minho shrugs—like the answer isn’t written in any manual, in his knowledge. Like it isn’t a rule he’s sure of himself. “Well…probably. But only under two conditions.”

“What are they?”

“One, you have to have Jisung and Seungmin accompany you,” Minho says, leaving no room for argument. “No matter how fine he looks on the outside, we don’t know if he’ll react poorly to you visiting. He doesn’t have much control during his cycle—full rut or not. And two,” Minho continues, folding his arms across his chest, “you have to cover up your scent glands. Neck and wrists, fully, and take a pill to be sure you won’t suddenly go into heat near him. Of course, you won’t be affected much because his rut is lighter this time around and you already went through yours, but it’s to be safe. He hasn’t seen you in days and he’s barely able to wander out.”

“…He tried to leave?” Felix asks quietly.

Minho sighs. “More than once. He asked for you. Not outright, but…” He trails off, glancing toward the door. “He’s been a bit restless.”

Felix’s throat tightens. “Then I thing I should visit him. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will,” Minho says, softer now. “That’s why I’m letting you in at all. If anything happens that shouldn’t, don’t hesitate to knock him by the side of his head—or injure him in any way. That’ll deal with him quickly.”

Felix raises his eyebrow but nods. “Okay.”

Minho eyes him for a moment longer, like he’s trying to gauge if Felix is truly ready. Then he steps aside, grabbing a small container from his desk and holding it out. “The sheets inside will mask your scent. Put it on before you go in—especially your neck and wrists, like I said. And the pill,”

Felix takes it, snapping it open and following just as he said. “Thank you.”

Minho gives a short nod. “He’s in his wing of the castle, though it’s been locked off since the cycle started. Jisung and Seungmin will already be stationed there.”

With a final glance over his shoulder, Felix turns to leave, scent jar in hand and a strange weight tugging at his chest. He’s not sure what he’ll find when he sees Hyun-Jin again—what will happen—but even so, something in him refuses to wait any longer. He's worried.

He finds Jisung and Seungmin are stationed outside the double doors, dressed in dark winter coats with swords at their hips, though they both visibly relax when they see him approach. “You’re late,” Jisung teases, stepping aside and nudging him lightly in the arm. “Took you long enough.”

“I had to talk to Minho,” Felix says, voice quieter than usual. “He explained things.”

Seungmin hums. “So you know what kind of state he’s in, then.”

Felix nods. “I took all the precautions.”

Jisung studies him for a moment, before giving a satisfied nod. “Good. He’s not dangerous, just…not necessarily himself. The fever’s been hitting harder at night, and he refuses to let anyone get close. Hasn’t eaten much either.”

Seungmin’s arms stay crossed. “You’re the only omega he’s really accepted since the engagement announcement.”

Felix’s lips part in surprise. “Really?”

“It’s true,” Jisung says, glancing toward the door as he lowers his voice. “I’m sure you know, he’s been engaged a few times before your arrival. There were others—nobles, highborn omegas, ones that were meant to flatter or impress. None of them ever got through with him. Hyun-Jin would go silent or shut them out completely. But you? He lets you talk to him. Stay close.”

Felix doesn’t know what to say. Heat rushes to his cheeks, but he nods slowly, the weight in his chest both growing heavier and lighter at once.

“We’ll be right here,” Jisung says gently. “Knock—or yell if anything feels off.”

Seungmin opens the door just enough for Felix to slip through. The moment he does, it’s like the air shifts—warmer, thick with something he can’t call familiar. It clings to his skin, heavy and suffocating, the scent in the room dulled but not gone, smothered only slightly by the scent blocker coating his pulse points. He steps inside and lets the door shut behind him, the soft click echoing louder than it should in the silence.

It’s dark. Not pitch black, but dim—only a single oil lamp flickers from a far corner, casting low golden light across the walls and draping shadows over everything else. The curtains have been drawn closed, heavy velvet swallowing any trace of the outside world. His eyes slowly adjust, and he sees that the room is a mess. Items are scattered across the floor—clothes, mostly. A discarded overcoat, a tunic half crumpled as if tugged off in a hurry. One boot lies sideways near the hearth, the other nowhere to be seen. Across a nearby table, a silver tray of untouched food sits cold and sad, the lid askew, bread hardened at the edges. Beside it are several medicine bottles, one on its side, another with the cap barely screwed on. Felix can’t tell if they’ve been taken or avoided.

A water pitcher has been knocked over, a faint sheen still staining the wooden surface beneath it. Papers and half-sketches are pinned under a cup, corners curling from the moisture. Everything looks lived-in and undone, like someone’s been pacing, tossing things, unable to sit still or find rest. And all of it smells like Hyun-Jin, even under the veil of suppressant—sharp and clean, but frayed at the edges, unwell. Felix’s chest tightens as he takes another step forward. He moves around a scattered heap of books and turns toward the low couch at the back of the room.

There he is.

Draped across the cushions like his body had given out, one arm thrown over his forehead to shield his eyes from the lamp’s glow. The other hangs limply at his side, fingers twitching faintly now and then. His long hair is messy where it falls over his cheek and neck, settling over the collar of a thin linen shirt that’s only half-buttoned and loose around his throat. His chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, and there’s a light sheen of sweat across his brow and collarbone that catches the dim light, making his skin glisten just enough to worry. His legs are bent slightly at the knees, bare feet peeking out from beneath a wool blanket someone must have thrown over him. He looks flushed. Not sick, exactly, but unwell—worn thin from the inside out.

Felix hesitates, throat dry, one hand still resting on the edge of a nearby table as he watches him. HyunJin’s jaw clenches, his expression tense even in sleep—or maybe it’s not sleep at all. Maybe it’s something heavier. Something caught in the haze of this low, burning cycle. He takes a step closer, though he doesn’t know why he’s dancing around him—scared of something or maybe nothing. It’s not like he’s new to this. He knows Alphas have ruts, knows the effects, the pain, the overwhelming desires that come with them. But knowing and experiencing are two very different things.

In all his life, he’s never truly spent one with an alpha. Never been this close, never crossed the invisible line of scent and instinct and biology that pulses between them now like static in the air. Even with Chan—beloved, trusted Chan—it had never come to this. They’d stayed careful, always. Respectful. Polite. Almost too polite. But this? This is different.

This is Hyun-Jin.

Laid out like something beautiful and fevered and wild, someone both untouchable and vulnerable all at once. And Felix…he’s standing here, heart hammering, skin prickling with unease and curiosity, not because he doesn’t trust Hyun-Jin—but because he does and knows he’ll be weak to him. That’s what makes it worse. He moves forward another step. Then another. The scent in the air thickens, more potent the closer he gets. It’s warm, sharp, and bitter-sweet—something distinctly Hyun-Jin buried beneath exhaustion and aching want. “Hyun-Jin?” He tries softly, voice barely a whisper.

Felix waits a beat, then another, before slowly crouching down. He brushes the hair from Hyun-Jin’s forehead with tentative fingers—and nearly jerks back. His skin is burning. Not just warm, not flushed—burning. Fever-hot, like a sun barely restrained beneath too much skin. Felix’s brows draw together in worry. He stands, glancing back at the table with the untouched water jug, the medicine bottles. “Hyun-Jin,” He tries again after a minute. This time, Hyun-Jin stirs with a low groan, eyelids fluttering open in slow blinks.

His gaze is hazy at first, unfocused, but it sharpens the moment it lands on Felix—like he’s been searching for him even in sleep. There’s a beat where he just stares, breath catching in his throat. Felix offers a soft smile. “Hey,” He murmurs, brushing Hyun-Jin’s bangs to the side. “How are you feeling? I came to check on you. I’m going to grab a wet cloth for your forehead. You’ll feel a bit better after, hmm?”

Hyun-Jin doesn’t respond. His gaze doesn’t leave Felix, unreadable, but he doesn’t move. Felix rises slowly, casting one last glance over his shoulder before padding toward the door. He doesn’t rush. He turns the handle with care, just barely beginning to crack the door open—

And then it slams shut.

The force isn’t violent, but it’s sudden—startling. The door clicks loudly as it closes, and Felix barely has a second to react before he’s yanked back. An arm loops tight around his waist, pulling him flush against a too-warm chest. The other hand braces against the door, caging him in. “Don’t go,” HyunJin murmurs, voice hoarse and low, barely held together. And then their eyes meet. The alpha’s eyes are bleary, half-lidded and dark, irises dulled with a fever-glow. Recognition lingers there, but it’s buried—clouded by instinct, the need to hold and take and feel something solid beneath his fingers. Then, with a quiet click, Felix hears the door’s lock sliding into place.

Before Felix can say another word, he’s lifted—not roughly, but still urged. He grabs onto the alpha instinctively, eyes wide as they move—staggering, unsteady steps across the room. Eventually, a desk behind him catches his hips, and then Hyun-Jin’s hands are on his cheek, his hip, and everywhere all at once. A glass jar tumbles from the edge next to them, hitting the floor with a loud, echoing shatter. Thick red paint pools out in a puddle, seeping into the floorboards. A fist pounds on the door at the sound.

“Felix! Hey—Felix!” Jisung’s voice is urgent. There’s the rattling of the door, and it seems they’ve realized it’s been locked.

“I’m okay!” Felix calls quickly, voice a little breathless but steady. “I’m fine—just give me a minute.”

Silence answers him at first. Then, a quieter thump—like Jisung reluctantly stepping back. Felix exhales, relieved. But when he turns—Hyun-Jin is already there. There’s no mistaking the look in his eyes. It had been there for a while now, buried under fever and fog: longing. Desperate, aching want. The kind that makes your breath catch and your chest feel too small to hold a heart. Felix sees it. Recognizes it. And yet—he’s still surprised when Hyun-Jin kisses him suddenly.

Rushed. Clumsy. Starving. He tries to pull back, just enough to speak, to catch his breath, to think—but Hyun-Jin follows. His lips chase him, fevered and insistent, the grip on his waist tightening just enough to keep him there, anchored. He kisses him deeper as time goes by. It’s not just their lips meeting; it’s mouths opening, breath tangling, something unraveling between them. “M-Mmh—“ Felix lets out a small, shaky sound, caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan. He tries to pull back—tries once, then twice—but HyunJin follows, won’t let him. His mouth finds again Felix’s again, over and over, like a storm sweeping through a shoreline that won’t stop breaking. “Ple—” Felix tries to speak, tries to catch his breath, but the words dissolve on contact.

Fingertips brush his cheek to cup, and Felix feels overwhelmed by the heat, the pressure, his scent—everything. He tries again to create space, to breathe, to steady the quickening of his pulse. But every attempt is met with another kiss—deeper, more desperate—until he forgets what he was trying to do in the first place. Until his fingers are curling into HyunJin’s shirt instead of pushing him away. Until he doesn’t want him to stop.

“Felix,” This time Seung-min’s voice comes. “Are you…sure you’re okay? The doors are locked and I’m worried he—“

Felix draws in a breath like he’s resurfacing from underwater, abruptly pulling himself away. “I’m okay!” He calls, voice slightly too high, too quick. “I just—he’s alright. I’ve got it handled.”

There’s a pause outside. The weight of disbelief hangs thick in the silence that follows, but eventually, the footsteps shift—retreating a bit, not fully gone. Still listening.

Inside, Hyun-Jin moved a bit lower. His breath hitches against Felix’s neck, and his nose brushes along the column of his throat like he’s scenting him. Felix’s hands hover, uncertain, before settling at Hyun-Jin’s shoulders. He means to push him back gently, but when he feels the slight tremble in his frame, he hesitates. After a moment, he lifts his hand to the curve of his own neck. There’s only a second before he hooks a finger beneath the transparent patch clinging to his skin. And then, slowly, he peels the scent blocker away.

All the while, he tells himself it won’t work. That he shouldn’t be doing this—that Minho had made him promise. That it was one of the only conditions for being allowed through that door. And yet here he is, breaking it anyway. But something deep inside him whispers that it’s the only thing that might help Hyun-Jin. That scent is instinct, and instinct is what Hyun-Jin’s drowning in. So Felix lets the patch fall from his fingers.

And thankfully, the change is immediate.

It hits like a wave—the light, sweet undertones of Felix’s natural scent flooding the space between them—and something in HyunJin stills. His eyes, once so wild, begin to soften. His grip loosens where it had been tight. The rigid tension that had been holding him upright, burning from the inside out, begins to melt—slow but certain. His jaw clenches, breath shaky again—but this time, not from hunger. From something else. Shame. Relief. The fragile thread of restraint returned to him at last.

His body sags, not from weakness, but from release—like whatever was holding him taut inside has finally let go. He blinks once. Then again. And this time, when he looks at Felix, there’s recognition in his gaze. “I’m so sorry,” He breathes out quickly.

Felix just shakes his head, “It’s alright.

But HyunJin doesn’t think so. The clarity that had just begun to return now transforms into horror, eyes widening as the realization sinks in. His hands—still resting on Felix—draw back like he’s touched fire. “I—I didn’t want to,” He chokes out, staggering a step away. “I didn’t—Felix, I thought you were leaving, and I just—” His voice cracks, raw with panic. “I lost myself. I didn’t ask. I touched you. I kissed you.”

Felix reaches for him instinctively, but HyunJin recoils again, shaking his head. “I panicked,” He whispers, like he’s confessing something unforgivable. “And then I held you back. I didn’t mean to—God, I didn’t mean to.”

“HyunJin,” Felix says softly. “You stopped. You’re stopping now.”

“But I didn’t at first,” HyunJin says, voice hoarse. “I didn’t even ask. What if—what if you hadn’t wanted—?”

“I would’ve told you,” Felix says firmly. “You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t go too far. I know you’re struggling right now.”

“But I could have,” HyunJin breathes, anguished. “I could have.”

Felix cups his face before he can spiral further, gentle but grounding. “But you didn’t.”

HyunJin leans heavily into him, like all the energy he had moments ago—the hunger and the strength—has fizzled out into something loose and weak as soon as he took in Felix’s scent. His fingers curl loosely into Felix’s shirt, not pulling, just…holding. “…Felix,” He says, voice low and hoarse.

Felix closes his eyes at the sound of it. There’s something raw in the way HyunJin says his name, like it hurts just to speak. Like saying it might shatter him. Felix waits, giving him time. “I’m really okay,” He replies softly, lifting one hand to smooth hair back from Hyun-Jin’s forehead. “I walked in here knowing what may have happened, so it’s all okay. I was worried, and if you...needed some type of reprieve, I’d give it to you.”

HyunJin exhales shakily. “I shouldn’t have called you here.”

“Minho said I could help,” Felix says.

“You shouldn’t be here,” HyunJin repeats, almost like it’s the only thing he can hold onto.

Felix runs a gentle hand along his back. “Then why do you seem like you need me?”

That finally makes HyunJin go still. A beat passes. Then two. “…I do,” He whispers, broken and quiet. “I do.”

Felix leans down just enough to kiss his temple, then guides them both to the bed, away from the broken glass and streaks of spilled paint. He settles them slowly, carefully, until HyunJin’s lying with his head on his lap and he is running his fingers gently through his hair. “Let me take care of you.”

HyunJin doesn’t argue this time.

Chapter Text

It takes time—an exhausting, patient stretch of whispered reassurances, grounding touches, and quiet, steady breathing before Hyun-Jin finally relaxes. He doesn’t speak much, just keeps his head low, clinging to Felix like he might vanish again if he loosens his grip. When his breathing evens out and his body slackens against him, Felix thinks he’s finally asleep. To make sure, though, he sits with him for a moment longer, one hand running through Hyun-Jin’s hair and the other brushing along his back. Once he’s certain Hyun-Jin is truly resting, he carefully moves and walks over to the door. He cracks it open just enough to peek his head out, keeping his voice low. “Jisung? Seungmin?”

They’re both still waiting in the hallway—alert, tense.

“I need more water,” Felix says. “And then later any medicine Minho recommends.”

Jisung squints, checking him over with sharp eyes. “Yes, of course. Though…are you okay?”

Felix nods. “I’m fine. He’s asleep now. Just…not ready for me to leave yet.”

“Got it,” Seungmin says, already turning to go.

“Thanks,” Felix whispers before closing the door again. The soft click of the lock slipping back into place feels heavier than before. He goes around quietly, cleaning up the water that previously spilled and organizing the things thrown about. Then he turns toward the wardrobe tucked in the corner, searching for something more comfortable to wear. His fingers brush over the fabric until they land on one of Hyun-Jin’s shirts—one a bit more tight than the rest and should fit him well. He slips out of his dress shirt and starts to change, the chill of the morning brushing over his skin.

What he doesn’t notice—what he never hears—is the quiet rustle behind him. The creak of the couch cushions shifting. Hyun-Jin’s eyes flutter open again—hazy, but alert enough to register the figure in front of him. And there, in the soft glow of morning, his gaze lands on the jagged lines tracing across Felix’s back. It doesn’t take long for him to recognize that they’re scars. The skin is broken by raised slashes and faded, ugly gashes have no real pattern except violence.

Hyun-Jin goes still.

His breath catches somewhere between disbelief and something that feels a lot like rage. He doesn’t speak, but his focus stays locked on them, unmoving.

Felix, unaware of the eyes on him, tugs the hem of the shirt down his neck before turning to grab the another scent blocker he had—

Felix startles like he’s been struck. He immediately pulls the shirt down and reflexively crosses over his front. He stumbles a step back, spine locking straight. “Oh.” The word leaves him thin, barely audible, barely there. His face flushes, bright with shame. “I didn’t know you were…I didn’t know you were awake…”

Hyun-Jin doesn’t answer right away. His eyes won’t stop flicking back to his back. He swallows hard. “Who…” His voice breaks. “Who did that to you?”

“What do you mean?” Felix says too quickly, feigning confusion. “I—I asked Seungmin to bring more food and water,” He blurts instead of answering. “Medicine, too, if you need more. You should really try to eat.” (The irony.) “Your body’s still—”

“Felix.”

He falters. Tries again, voice lower. “Would you like me to stay until your cycle ends?” He says. “Or I could just check in every so often. If that’s better for you, I don’t mind—”

“Felix.” Hyun-Jin cuts in again, and this time his voice is firm.

Regret coils tight in Felix’s chest. Hyun-Jin’s hand clenches in the blanket. His expression is fractured, like something in him is shattering just from looking at him. “I’m sorry,” He whispers, words trembling. “You weren’t supposed to see that. It’s—um—it’s really embarrassing.” He tries to smile, but it twists into an uncertain frown. “I…got hurt when I was little. Playing.”

Hyun-Jin’s brow furrows. His voice is flat. “Playing?”

“Yeah. It was…a circus game. Or an animal game.” The lie slips out, brittle and too fast. “Someone got a hold of a whip and—it was stupid. The game got stopped early by our parents, of course. They’re just old scars.”

There’s a long, aching beat of silence.

Hyun-Jin’s jaw clenches. He looks away, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. His whole posture screams restraint.

Felix shrinks inward. “Did I…say something wrong?”

Hyun-Jin shakes his head. “No. Of course not. I just…” He swallows again. “Do you have other scars?”

Felix blinks. “I…” His throat closes. Should he lie again? Say no? Or finally admit it—that the scars came from punishments, not play. That they’re the evidence of cruelty disguised as discipline. That he was punished for things he didn’t do, or things no child should ever be punished for. But what if Hyun-Jin gets angry at him for hiding it? For lying now? For being a coward? The fear curls up tight behind his ribs.

Hyun-Jin exhales through his nose, slow and shaky, before reaching out a hand toward him. “Come here,” He says, like he knows Felix is on the edge of running. Like he’s not going to let him.

Felix hesitates. The silence stretches, and his hands twist into the fabric of his shirt like he’s trying to hold himself together. The lie from earlier still hangs in the air, sour and fragile. He knows Hyun-Jin didn’t believe it. So finally, he says, barely louder than a breath, “I—I wasn’t necessarily trying to hide them from anyone. I just…I was afraid of how others would take it. What they’d think. What you’d think. It's…honestly gross to look at. But, actually, it was…a family member.”

Hyun-Jin blinks. His posture shifts slightly, more alert now. “A family member?”

Felix nods once. Tight. Avoids his gaze. “We don’t…get along.”

That’s all. No details. No explanation for why someone who was supposed to be a close had instead left him with scars that hadn’t faded after all these years.

Hyun-Jin’s jaw clenches tighter. He wants to ask more—wants to demand names, reasons, anything. But one look at the way Felix is standing—tense, head ducked, like he’s waiting for judgment—he stops himself. Because this isn’t about him. It’s about Felix. And Felix is already scared enough. Still, something aches in his chest. A kind of hurt he doesn’t know where to place. Not at Felix. Never at him. But at the fact that someone hurt him like that—and Felix still doesn’t feel safe enough to tell him the full truth. He exhales. “Okay,” He says, voice low, even. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Felix glances up, startled by the gentleness. But he still looks wary, like he’s bracing for more questions that haven’t come yet. Hyun-Jin just watches him for a moment, then adds, quieter, “I wish you’d trust me a bit more.” The words aren’t unkind. They aren’t a plea, either. Just a truth, laced with a hurt that leaks through before he can stop it.

Felix shakes his head quickly. “I do,” He says quickly. “Of course I do. You’ve…you’ve been there for me more than anyone else here, and I care a lot for you. I just…I don’t know how to talk about it. I never have.”

I don’t want to.

That softens something in Hyun-Jin’s expression. He gives a small nod, eyes not leaving Felix. “Okay, I understand. I don’t know what you’ve been through, and you don’t have to tell me. But…I’m sure you know I can’t just sit here knowing someone did that to you and act like it’s fine.”

“…I do.”

Another pause.

Then, again—gentler this time, “Come here.”

And this time, Felix doesn’t hesitate as long.

-

Hyun-Jin’s rut came in waves as the week went on—sometimes overwhelming, other times dull and feverish—but Felix stayed. He didn’t really have a choice, not when Hyun-Jin would stir and panic if he wasn’t there. Even just a few feet away was too far. The moment Hyun-Jin would wake and not feel him nearby, anxiety would twist across his face, hands scrambling to reach out.

Felix learned quickly. Learned when to lean in close and murmur that he was here, when to soothe him with quiet touches, and when to hold his breath through the more difficult nights. Sometimes—especially in the deep of night—Hyun-Jin’s mind would slip again, caught in that foggy, instinct-driven desire. And Felix, unsure what else to do, would let his scent spill free into the space between them; Let Hyun-Jin bury his face against his neck, mouth pressing hot and open over sensitive skin, just long enough to take the edge off.

The last night in particular, had been the epitome of this rut—light, Minho seems to deem it, but Felix couldn’t see it that way. If this was light, then he couldn’t imagine what heavy looked like around the alpha. It started innocently enough. Hyun-Jin had been burning up again, his skin damp and his breathing uneven as searing pain took hold over his nerves. Felix had only been trying to help—changing out the rag on his forehead like he’d done dozens of times before. But the moment his hand grazed Hyun-Jin’s cheek, warm and flushed, fingers curled around his wrist and pulled him down on his bed.

His response was barely half-formed when Hyun-Jin’s lips found his again. The kiss wasn’t rough, but it was heavy with need, slow and persuasive, and he didn’t push him away.

He gasped into it, the sound swallowed, and Hyun-Jin took full advantage—deepening the kiss, his hand slipping beneath Felix’s shirt with an almost reverent touch. The cool air against his skin vanished under Hyun-Jin’s palm, which skimmed the small of his back, fingertips tracing the dip of his spine, then pressing flat to keep him close.

Felix knew he should stop it. His brain screamed it. But his body thought otherwise. There was something dizzying and tempting about Hyun-Jin’s scent, something that made his muscles go lax and his will falter. His thighs braced against Hyun-Jin’s hips, breath catching when Hyun-Jin’s mouth left his for his neck, trailing heat along the curve of his throat, over his scent gland. His back arched slightly, and he involuntarily bared his neck further as a low sound left his throat—one he didn’t even recognize as his own.

And then came the bite.

Not deep. Not claiming. Not tearing through the skin. Just a mark. Teeth sinking into the tender area above his collarbone, right where his skin was most sensitive. It wasn’t meant to hurt—it was meant to soothe. But it undid him anyway, in a way. His breath trembled as he clung to Hyun-Jin’s shoulders, nails digging in lightly. His entire body was betraying him, responding without thought, submitting, offering more. Every brush of Hyun-Jin’s lips, every breath shared between them seemed to pull Felix deeper into something he couldn’t control.

The worst part was—he didn’t care how dangerous this could turn. He didn’t want to pull away. He wanted to feel more. Wanted Hyun-Jin to keep going, to press closer, to burn him up from the inside out. Rationality drowned beneath the haze of instinct and desire, and it scared him more than anything else.

Hyun-Jin managed to stop himself just before they went too far, came back to his senses. He hesitated when pulled back, panting harshly, eyes dark and desperate. The look he gave him—needy, disbelieving, torn—made his stomach knot tighter. Hyun-Jin then squeezed his eyes shut hard, gulping down a swallow like it physically hurt him to tear himself away. He guided Felix from him and pushed himself off the bed, stumbling toward the bathroom with the door slamming shut behind him.

Felix stayed there, kneeling on the mattress, breath coming in shaky puffs as the reality of what happened returned to him. His fingers hovered over the place where Hyun-Jin had bitten him—thankfully not a complete bond mark but still. His skin tingled there nonetheless, lips parted as if still trying to catch up to what just happened. Heat flooded his face in slow, creeping waves, pooling across his ears, across his cheeks, down his neck. And there he became very aware of the pressure between his legs.

He swallowed hard, heart thudding, and instinctively pulled the blankets over himself—though it did little to hide the way his body was reacting. A low, mortified groan escaped him as he shifted awkwardly, thighs squeezing together in some half-hearted attempt to ignore it. But Hyun-Jin’s scent was still all over the room—tangled with his in a mouthwatering mix. He dragged a hand through his hair and buried his face into the nearest pillow with a pathetic whimper. Red-faced and sporting a growing problem he didn’t know he should fix, Felix curled in on himself.

From the bathroom, where water rushed too loud and too long to be normal, came the soft, stifled sounds of something more than frustration.

When Hyun-Jin’s rut finally ended, the haze lifted from the room, and the weight of constant heat, scent, and tension faded—but it left a mark. Not on Hyun-Jin, who was still resting quietly in bed from its after effects, but on Felix. He felt it in the ache behind his eyes, the way his body seemed to hum with an odd overstimulation. His scent regulation was frayed and disrupted, the glands on his neck feeling a little too raw despite the precautions. He slipped out quietly when the maids and attendants arrived to tidy up the room, muttering something about needing a bath and fresh air. The hallway was cooler, quieter—too bright after the days spent in heavy curtains and dim lighting. He barely made it halfway down the corridor when he almost ran straight into Minho. They both froze mid-step, and Felix’s breath caught.

The Alpha gave him a once-over without a word at first. Not out of malice—there was something calculated about his gaze, assessing. Reading. Felix glanced away quickly, wrapping his arms around himself as if that would hide the fatigue pressing into his bones, the faint fading red marks at his neck from Hyun-Jin’s lips there. Then, with a nod, Minho simply said, “Thank you for helping him. Really.”

It took a second for the words to register. Felix blinked, his brows knitting faintly in confusion. He looked up—expecting something else. A reprimand. A string of questions. Anything. But Minho didn’t ask the obvious. Didn’t mention the missing scent blockers. Didn’t demand to know what happened behind that locked door over the course of three days. He just stood there, composed, as if he already knew.

And somehow, that unsettled Felix more than anything else. It was clear he hadn’t kept the blockers on as much as he was supposed to. The air around him still held the faint remnants of his scent, unfiltered and tangled with Hyun-Jin’s. He knew Minho could sense it. Any Alpha could. But Minho didn’t press.

Maybe that was worse.

Felix swallowed hard, looking down at his feet. “I…”

“It’s fine,” Minho said, eyes flicking briefly to the fading bruises at Felix’s neck before returning to his face. “I’m not here to scold you. If taking them off helped, it’s fine. Just…be a bit more careful.” Minho reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial of tablets, pressing it gently into Felix’s hand. “I was hoping to run into you regardless, though—just to give you a bit more medicine. Since you’ve been exposed to his scent for a long time, you’ll need to take these tablets to make sure there’s no… remnants. You know?”

Felix stared at the vial in his palm for a moment, then looked back up at Minho. “Thank you,” He said softly.

Minho gave a nod, stepping back. “Don’t forget to take them tonight and for the next week. It’ll help regulate your scent—to prevent an early heat.”

“Right,” Felix nods—for the third time, a bit flustered, and then he’s off.

—

The garden, though touched by an everlasting winter, still holds its beautiful charm. Frost clings to the edges of the stone path, glistening beneath the pale afternoon sun like powdered glass. The bare branches above sway gently in the cold breeze, their few remaining leaves dusted white. In the center, where the earth has been carefully tended, the hardiest winter blooms peek through—a stubborn show of color against the chill.

Felix walks slowly, gloved hands tucked into the folds of his cloak, breath visible in soft white puffs. The quiet helps him think—something he hasn’t had much of since Hyun-Jin’s cycle passed. His body still feels the echoes of it: the fatigue, the dull ache, the memory of heat that doesn’t match the frozen air around him.

He rounds a turn and pauses when he hears a voice, small and sweet.

“Felix!”

Anaiya waves him over from where she kneels beside a patch of blooming hellebores, their pale pink petals nodding in the wind. She’s bundled in a thick wool coat and mittens that are slightly too big, cheeks flushed from the cold.

He steps toward her, boots crunching over frost.

“These are the snow roses,” She says, pointing. “They’re really strong. Even when it’s cold, they don’t go away.”

Felix smiles softly. “They’re beautiful. Like you.”

She giggles, brushing her hand gently over one bloom. “Are you going to the Holy Temple’s gathering later today?”

“I’ll be there,” He says, crouching beside her. “Will you and your brother be going too?”

Anaiya shakes her head, mittens resting in her lap. “No. We’re leaving soon. We’re going to visit our grandparents, so we can’t stay.”

Felix opens his mouth to respond—but the soft shuffle of steps catches his ear. He turns, and through the pale veil of frost, Irene approaches, her hooded cloak trailing behind her like a shadow over snow. “How did I know I’d find you both here together?

Irene’s voice drifts through the crisp winter air as she steps onto the garden path. Felix doesn’t answer—he just rises to his feet, brushing the snow off his knees.

“Are we leaving already?” He asks, glancing back at her.

Irene nods, casting a soft look toward Anaiya still crouched by the frost-covered blooms. “So it’s time for little Nai to go.”

She gives Anaiya’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before running back to the castle, giving them a moment alone.

“You didn’t have to wait,” He says.

“I wanted to,” Irene replies. Her tone shifts—quieter now, more careful. “And I wanted to apologize again. For what happened before. I felt like my apology wasn’t good enough, and it’s been weighing on me. I know I deeply upset you—”

“Upset?” Felix tilts his head, eyes unreadable. “No. I didn’t feel anything from it. But, I’ve already forgiven you. There’s no need to talk about it anymore.

That startles her. Her lips part, but no words come right away. “Ah I see. Well…that’s good. Though—I’m a bit curious. You’ve been spending a lot of time around Hyun-Jin lately,” Irene says lightly, brushing snow from her shoulder, her tone casual—too casual. “It’s sweet, really. He doesn’t usually let people get that close.”

“He was…unwell. It felt right to be there.”

She hums, a little tilt to her head. “Of course. You’ve always been… attentive. I imagine that’s something a lot of people appreciate about you.” A pause. “Hyun-Jin isn’t the only one, after all.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mm,” Irene hums thoughtfully. “It’s just that… well, some of us couldn’t help but notice how close you two have gotten. Especially at the banquet. I remember seeing you and Chan talking then too. Quite… animatedly, actually. You’re very comfortable around Alphas, aren’t you?”

Felix blinks, the chill in the air brushing against his cheek like a second, subtler slap. “I get along with a lot of people. Alphas included.”

“Oh, of course.” She gives a delicate laugh. “That’s not a bad thing, Felix. In fact, I admire it. Not everyone can handle so much… energy around them. Or attention.” She leans in, smiling like she’s complimenting him. “I imagine it gets overwhelming—though I suppose you’re used to it by now. I mean, first Chan, and now Hyun-Jin…”

He tilts his head, tone even. “Are you suggesting something, Irene?”

She lifts both hands in mock surrender. “Not at all! Just making conversation. It’s just—well, to someone on the outside, it might look like you enjoy being in the orbit of powerful people. Alphas. It’s a certain type of thrill, isn’t it?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “People reach for what comforts them. That’s not always power.”

“True,” she says lightly. “But sometimes it’s easy to mistake one for the other.”

“That’s right,” Felix agrees. “Anyway, aren’t we supposed to be going? It’s quite cold. Though…you don’t have to try so hard with me, Irene. I understand more than you think.”

Then he walks off, leaving only soft prints in the snow.

Behind him, Irene exhales slowly, the smile slipping off her face. Her eye twitches and she brings a hand up to her mouth, muttering quietly as she bites her thumbnail. “He’s so irritating…Who does he think he is?”

-.-

At the temple, frost clings to the archways and stone pillars, but the sacred fires have already been lit, warming the central courtyard with a steady glow. Bells chime softly in the distance—an echoing call to gather.

Felix sits neatly near the end of a long, carved bench, tucked beside Irene and a few other nobles. Their breaths curl in the cold air, and the crisp scent of incense drifts from the shrine steps. Around them, attendants quietly move between guests with trays of warm tea and blankets, the holy gathering just beginning.

Across the courtyard, Hyun-Jin is deep in conversation with a pair of priests. His posture is straight but guarded, and though he listens politely, his eyes occasionally flick toward the outer benches—toward Felix.

When their eyes meet, Felix quickly looks away, shifting slightly in his seat. It’s been a week since Hyun-Jin’s cycle ended. A week since Felix stayed by his side—since he let him kiss and scent him. The memory of it still makes his skin burn. They haven’t talked much about it, not truly. And now, sitting here with others around, it feels too loud in his head. He’s been trying to follow Minho’s words and distance himself from Hyun-Jin—making sure they’re not alone together to the point Hyunjin may ask for him to go back to his room. He’s been exposed to his scent for too long, and the least thing he wants is to start his dreadful heat.

Yeji’s voice breaks the silence beside him.

“We’ve been considering something,” she says gently, passing him a small, steaming cup of tea. “Now that Mei has been sent off for her duties, I believe it’s time we assign you a personal maid or assistant.”

Felix knits his eyebrows. “For?”

“For your comfort,” She says with a nod, “and convenience. You shouldn’t have to handle everything alone. We’d, of course, choose someone entirely new—no connections to the palace.”

She doesn’t say it directly, but the shadow of Calcifer’s betrayal lingers heavily in the space between her words. Even Irene, who has been quiet up until now, lifts an eyebrow.

Felix shifts again. “That’s not necessary. I don’t mind taking care of myself.”

“It’s not about necessity,” Yeji says, her voice lighter now. “Just precaution. It would help you. And us. Especially after…” She trails off, then changes the subject. “Well. We simply want you safe. I was also speaking with Irene earlier,” she says gently, “and since her household staff has a reputation for discretion and loyalty, she mentioned she might recommend one of her head maids for you.”

Felix glances toward Irene, who’s now sipping from her own cup, expression unreadable as ever. At the mention of her name, she offers a light smile.

“Only if you’re comfortable with that, of course,” Yeji adds quickly. “You’d be allowed to meet with each candidate first. Short interviews, nothing too formal.”

Felix shifts, thoughtful. A part of him wants to decline—something instinctively unsettled by the idea of Irene choosing for him. But with the chance to speak to them first, maybe it’s not so bad.

“I…don’t mind,” He says carefully. “As long as I can speak with them first.”

“Of course,” Yeji says. “It’s your decision. No one will be placed without your say.”

Irene finally speaks, brushing her thumb against the rim of her cup. “They’re well-trained and unaffiliated with palace politics. I know what happens when staff grows too close to the wrong people.” The implication is pointed but sugarcoated.

Felix doesn’t rise to it. He simply nods. “Then I’ll trust your judgment…to a point.”

The corner of Irene’s lip twitches—whether in amusement or frustration, it’s hard to say. But she says nothing more, and Felix, quietly satisfied, returns to watching the courtyard where Hyun-Jin now stands just a little closer than before. He’s still not used to the cold like everyone else, though—his coat is buttoned too tightly at the collar, his gloves thick and clumsy around his fingers. His breath curls in the winter air as he speaks to one of the elders, nodding politely, though Felix can tell his shoulders are stiff beneath the layers.

Yeji grins. “Now that that’s settled, why don’t we start eating and then go pay our respects to the head priest? I’m sure he’ll be happy to congratulate you on your engagement.”

“I’ll go get drinks for everyone then.” Felix volunteers, standing.

Yeji waves him off with a cheerful “Thank you!”

Felix weaves through the tables, and once he gets to the refreshment tables he scans the rows of cups set neatly, steam curling in the air from the warm cider and herbal infusions. His fingers hover over one of the spiced drinks when a voice interrupts him from just behind his shoulder.

“Forgive me, young master Yong-bok. Those are from the earlier batch,” a temple servant says smoothly. “We just finished preparing a fresher selection, if you’d like to offer those instead.” The servant stands tall, dressed in pale robes that mimic the colors worn by the other temple attendants, but something about the fit is slightly off—the hems too sharp, the fabric a bit too crisp, and the sash tied differently than the others he’d passed that morning. Still, Felix is too polite to say anything.

“Oh—thank you,” He replies, shifting aside as the man steps forward and gestures toward a small covered tray he’d carried in.

The servant lifts the lid gracefully. Inside, three new cups sit nestled among sprigs of fresh herbs and dried orange peel. The scent that drifts out is pleasant and rich. “These have been blessed this morning,” The man says, eyes lowered respectfully. “The temple master himself made the selection.”

“I’ll take these, then,” He says, offering a polite smile as he reaches for the tray. “Thank you,”

He starts to turn, but pauses.

Something itches at the back of his mind.

Young Master Yong-bok.

The name had rolled off the man’s tongue too smoothly—intimately, almost. Not just formal. Familiar.

Felix turns back. “I’m sorry, are you perh—?”

But the servant is already gone.

Felix blinks, heart skipping. He looks around, but there’s no sign of him, almost like he’s vanished. He furrows his eyebrows, thinking that maybe he’s hearing things. Still, the name echoes in his ears like a whisper. Yong-bok. Not many call him that anymore. Not like that—only a select few in the castle.

Nonetheless, he shakes it off.

He returns to the table cradling the small tray of steaming cups in his hands. Hyun-Jin had peeled away just moments ago when Seungmin called him over with something urgent, leaving Felix to cross the courtyard alone again, the chilly air biting softly at his cheeks. “They’re still preparing the food,” He says as he sets the tray down. “But one of the temple attendants brought over a fresh batch of drinks. Said they were just blessed.”

Yeji reaches forward first, selecting a citrusy cup and inhaling its aroma with a pleased hum. “Mmm, smells good.”

Felix slides the middle one toward Irene, taking the last for himself. “Figured I’d bring them back while we wait. Might help warm us up.”

“Thoughtful as ever,” Irene says, lips curling. She lifts her cup with poised fingers, steam curling beneath her chin.

They talk casually for a few minutes—about the ceremony, the priests, and who’s wearing what. Felix listens more than he speaks, though every so often his eyes flick toward Hyun-Jin across the garden, still deep in conversation with Seungmin and one of the temple scribes.

Then, mid-sentence, Irene takes a delicate sip of her drink.

She swallows once, twice—and suddenly goes very still.

Her lips part slightly, then clamp shut. Her hand rises almost involuntarily to cover her mouth.

Felix’s brows draw together in concern. “Irene?”

She doesn’t answer right away. Her eyes are wide, expression pinched—like something’s wrong, but she’s struggling to maintain her composure.

Yeji shifts in her seat, noticing too. “Are you alright?”

There’s a beat of silence. Irene gives the smallest shake of her head. She lurches forward, the glass slipping from her fingers and shattering on the stone path. Her hand flies to her mouth, and her eyes widen in horror as thick, black blood spills between her fingers.

Felix and Yeji freeze.

For a moment, neither of them move—eyes locked on the thick, dark blood trailing between Irene’s fingers as it drips onto her lap, staining the pale silk of her dress like blooming ink. The sound she made—half gasp, half choke—still rings in Felix’s ears, and yet he can’t seem to breathe.

Then her cup crashes to the floor, shattering into glass shards.

It snaps them both out of their daze.

Felix is the first to move.

“Irene—!” The name rips from his throat, sharp and panicked, as he darts forward. Chairs scrape and tip behind him but he doesn’t care—he drops to his knees in front of her just as her body begins to sway.

“I’ve got you, it’s okay, you’re alright, I’ve got you—” he mutters under his breath, frantic, catching her as she slumps forward.

But she isn’t alright.

Her skin is pale. Too pale. And her eyes, once lively, are dulling quickly, the whites flooding with red as vessels burst beneath the surface. Blood trickles from her nose now, from the corner of her lips, staining her teeth. Her breathing is shallow, wet. Strangled.

“Irene—hey, look at me.” Felix grips her face gently, brushing damp hair from her cheek, but her eyes barely track him.

Behind him, Yeji’s chair clatters to the ground as she stands, voice rising. “Help! Someone get the medic—now!”

He reaches for the scarf near her neck to wipe the blood from her chin, panic rising, but before he can do anything more, something shoves him—no, rips him—backward. It’s not a compulsory violent blow—but he still stumbles and falls onto his back, landing roughly in the snow-dusted path behind him. The cold bites through his clothes, the breath knocked out of him more from surprise than pain.

“Get away from her.”

The voice is frigid—void of warmth, sharp as glass.

Hyun-Jin, surprisingly.

He’s kneeling where Felix had just been, his entire body tense, lips pressed into a hard line. His hands, slick with blood, move expertly over Irene—checking her pulse, stabilizing her head, brushing her hair out of her face. He doesn’t speak at first. Not to Felix. Not to anyone. His presence is all-consuming, cold and unyielding like black ice.

Felix scrambles to push himself upright, dazed. His hands sting against the ground beneath him. “W-What—why did you—?”

“You need to leave.”

The word cuts through the air like a knife.

Hyun-Jin still doesn’t look at him.

But when he finally does, it’s like the temperature drops.

Felix freezes.

Hyun-Jin’s eyes are nothing like they were before. There’s no warmth, no flicker of shared understanding—just something stormy and restrained, like a dam on the verge of breaking. It’s not just anger. It’s not just control. There’s a tension buried deeper—tight in his brow, in the twitch of his jaw.

Something like fear.

But Felix doesn’t know if it’s for Irene…or something else entirely. All he knows is that his mind translates it to Hyun-Jin thinking he’s the reason this is happening—as if his presence is only making things worse. And it hurts. It hurts in a way Felix wasn’t prepared for.

Felix’s heart thunders in his chest. The temple is still in a state of suspended chaos—servants shouting for help, healers running a monk, people being pulled away from the scene, and Hyun-Jin kneeling over Irene with the priests circling them. Felix stands just outside the fray, stunned, body still vibrating from the shock of being shoved back.

Then—

“What did you do?” The words cut clean through the air above all the noise. Jeongin’s voice is cold, trembling with fury, and getting closer. Felix turns toward him slowly.

“Jeongin—” Yeji’s voice is soft, warning.

But Jeongin doesn’t stop. His steps are steady, relentless, each one making Felix inch back.

“I asked you a question,” he says. “What the hell did you do?”

Felix swallows, taking another step back. “I didn’t—”

“My sister was was fine,” Jeongin snaps, voice rising. “She was laughing. Talking. You two were both talking—I saw it. I believed it. You gave her something, didn’t you?”

Felix’s eyes widen, and for a moment, everything stills. “The drinks,” He breathes, the realization crashing into him like a wave. “I only gave them drinks…”

Yeji turns sharply to look at him.

“But—wait, no. Mine was fine. And so was yours—” He turns to her, voice stumbling as panic begins to thread through it. “We had the same ones. It—how could just hers be—?”

“So you poisoned my sister?”

“Jeongin, enough!” Yeji grabs his arm, trying to hold him back.

But Jeongin shakes her off, eyes still locked on Felix like he’s something volatile. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You gave her a drink. Then she collapses, spitting toxic blood.”

“I didn’t know—!” Felix says quickly, his voice cracking. “I didn’t know there was anything wrong with it—someone from the temple brought a tray and called me by name and—”

“The Temple is a sacred area, and this has never happened in all the years we’ve had this event. You’re a hazard,” Jeongin growls. He steps closer, and Felix feels his back brush against a pillar.

He doesn’t understand what the hell is going on. Why is he being blamed? Why did Hyun-Jin look at him like that? And then—

A blur slams into Jeongin from the side, fast and furious. “Back. Off.”

Jisung’s voice is low and terrifying. He pins Jeongin down in the snow with one hand, his other already gripping the hilt of his dagger, pressed to Jeongin’s shoulder with threatening force.

“I warned you,” Jisung growls, his eyes flickering with something wild. “Time and time again. And just when I thought you were finally getting it—you slip. You put your fucking hands on the Prince.”

Jeongin tries to speak, but Jisung leans down further, voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Do it again. Accuse him again. And I swear—I’ll revoke your position before Hyun-Jin does.”

Chapter Text

Felix stands frozen behind them, the weight of everything pinning his feet to the earth. His breath catches in his throat, pulse roaring in his ears. His fingers twitch at his sides—unsure whether to reach out and pull Jisung back, or flee altogether. Away. Away. Away. “Wait,” He says, the word barely more than a whisper, but still enough to slip into the chaos. “He’s just—he’s just scared for his sister. Don’t hurt him.”

Jisung’s eyes flick to him, a brief flash of acknowledgment cutting through the fury etched across his face. There’s a softening, barely perceptible, but there. Still, his grip on Jeongin doesn’t budge—and rather he presses the dagger into the young alpha’s shoulder more. Jeongin winces, jaw clenched and breathing heavily, but he doesn’t lash out.

Shortly, a bolt of lightning cleaves the sky open. Not blue, not white—but a violent, unholy purple, ripping across the clouds like a scar. Felix flinches, shielding his eyes on instinct. His ears ring, a deep hum threading beneath his skin. The ground shudders—once, then again, before the earth tears open just past the temple’s main steps. From it, a surge of shadows erupts, thick and fast, crawling out like tendrils of smoke given flesh. Creatures—demonic monsters, twisted things with glowing, lidless eyes and jagged mouths—spill into the clearing. They move like water, like a swarm, far too many to count, their shrieks uncontrollably loud.

“The magical shield has malfunctioned! Evacuate!” One of the temple staff shouts, their voice nearly lost in the rising storm of panic and noise.

Felix barely has time to breathe, let alone move. His mind can’t catch up—he’s still staring at Jeongin, at the dagger, at Jisung’s taut figure—when a hand yanks him violently to his feet—Seungmin. His grip is firm, dragging him out of his daze and into motion. The temple yard is a blur now—figures running, voices shouting, magic flaring in the distance. But all Felix can do is look back, breath catching in his throat.

In the midst of it, Hyun-Jin hasn’t moved far—He’s still kneeling next to Irene’s limp body, his eyebrows furrowed with emotions Felix can’t decipher. A few healers have gathered around her now, their hands glowing a dim light, casting incantations under their breath and trying to stabilize her body enough to move her. All the while, monsters are rushing toward them. Four of them. Crawling, snarling, too fast.

They don’t get close, however.

Ten paces away—maybe less—they stop. Not because they choose to, but because their bodies do. Mid-charge, the creatures twist inward. Bones crumple. Skin peels away like paper. And then, without so much as a movement from anyone, they rupture—guts and thick, tar-black blood spraying into the air as if they were never whole to begin with. Felix watches with wide eyes, throat dry. He stumbles slightly as he moves with Seung-min, his chest heaving as he tries to drag in air other than the sickening scent of sulfurous decay—like magic burned wrong.

His body moves, but his mind lags behind. He stumbles with Seungmin still dragging him forward, boots slipping slightly on snowy slush. A scream pierces through the chaos behind them. A monster wails—and then silences as another explosion of gore hits the yard. His hand trembles as he lifts his sleeve to his face, wiping away the fiery itch burning at his hairline. When he retracts his hand, however, his forehead is wet with something dark red. He immediately recognizes it as Irene’s blood, realizing It must’ve gotten on him when he held her.

And somehow, someway, that one gesture triggers yet another thing. Like a key turning in a lock, he feels the shift—a sudden unraveling, not exactly physical, but deeper. Beneath skin. Under bone. Something foreign awakens, blooming like a sickness in his core. Without warning—he doubles over like Irene had, a strangled gasp escaping his throat as he hits the ground hard on his knees. His fingers dig into the snow, and he retches once. Then again. Dark blood spills from his mouth, steaming faintly where it touches the ground—burning into it, as though the earth itself recoils from it. It doesn’t stop, not at first. His shoulders shake. His breath catches on every dry heave as his body tries to purge something it was never meant to take in.

“Fuck,” Seungmin skids to a stop, holding him up before he collapses entirely. At that, everything seems to freeze. The monsters stop. One twitches, then another. They turn toward them—or more specifically, him, as if recognizing something. Their noses twitch at the air like hounds catching an unfamiliar scent. Their grotesque heads tilt. Nostrils flare.

Felix blinks blearily, lips parted, body heavy and useless in Seungmin’s arms. They’re not supposed to be looking at him. They weren’t. They hadn’t been. Until now. And in the next second, the creatures let out a synchronized screech and broke into a full sprint toward him ignoring those around still scrambling by.

“Shit. Felix—we need to run.” Seung-min warns.

But Felix can’t, as much as he wants to. He’s shaking, dizzy, the taste of acid thick on his tongue. His limbs are numb, and his insides feel like they’re burning inside out.

A dark blur slams into one of the monsters just as it leaps toward them. A glint of steel. Changbin crashes down next to them, shoving a blade through the chest of a beast. “We’ve got incoming on all sides!” Jisung follows, a streak of shadow and speed, slashing the arm of another. Knights appear from the treeline—some on foot, some mounted, weapons drawn. The sounds of battle erupt around them. But even with backup, it’s still a mess. The monsters aren’t dying easily, strengthened by the night and weird lightning. For every one that fell, two more took its place.

“Their behavior isn’t normal!” A guard yells. “They’re drawn to something—they’re hunting—Everyone run into the temple!”

A monster lunges for Felix, and before Seungmin can slay it, it explodes in midair like the rest, right before them.

Everyone freezes.

While Jisung—he screams. Not because he got injured, but because a wet splat landed on his shoulder, a chunk of mangled flesh clinging to his cloak. He shrieks, violently shaking his arm, nearly dropping his sword.

Felix blinks in shock.

Jisung spins toward Hyun-Jin across the field, veins popping in his neck. “BE MORE CAREFUL HWANG, DAMN IT!” He yells, voice raw.

Felix's eyes fix on Hyun-Jin in the distance at that, and he sees him now standing. He hasn't moved much, and yet, the area around him is littered with disintegrated animalistic, demon-like bodies torn apart. Not a single creature has touched him. Not one has come close to Irene and the healers. And now—now those same monsters, the ones that had locked onto him, are suffering the same fate. Falling mid-run. Exploding before they even reach him. As if some invisible barrier—or force—destroys them before impact. The thought of Hyun-Jin being the cause of this sends a shiver crawling up his spine. But how? Isn’t his power cursed strength? Physical?

There's no time to dwell on it—not before a set of arms hook under his legs and shoulders. “Excuse my actions, Prince,” Changbin mutters before lifting him into his arms. Felix opens his mouth to tell him he doesn’t mind, but his vision starts to blur—edges first, then deeper, the color draining from the world like paint washing away in the rain. The shouts around him grow muffled, distant, as though someone is pressing cotton to his ears. His head tips forward against Changbin’s chest, a small groan leaving his lips as fire spreads beneath his skin faster, unfamiliar and wrong, from his stomach to his chest in venomous tendrils. He opens his mouth to speak—to warn Changbin—but all that escapes is a soft, shuddering breath. He passes out before he can even fight it.

It wasn’t until three days later, did he gain consciousness—only to find himself in another situation he’d rather avoid. His own hands are clenched on his lap, nails digging crescents into his palms. He’s sitting before the King and Queen on his bed, who are accompanied by guards and advisors, each heartbeat in his chest louder than the last. There’s a certain feeling he recalls from how familiar this type of event is; The tight coil of tension. The heavy silence before judgment. It was the same as before—every time before. He was already preparing his heart for the blow he knew would come: The rejection. The exile. For the third time, he’d be cast out of a kingdom for crimes he hadn’t committed.

And when the King finally parts his lips to speak, Felix expects dissatisfaction. A subtle condemnation masked in royal decorum. The stripping away of what little place he’s earned here. But instead, the King says, calm and certain, “We will not allow our son-in-law to be wrongfully accused.”

He just stares, stunned—eyes wide, disbelief flickering across his features. The words don’t compute at first. They echo back at him slowly, over and over, until they start to mean something real. Until he realizes what’s been said. The King’s expression softens as he watches Felix’s reaction. He offers him a small reassuring smile.

“After some further investigation at the temple grounds, we discovered that the cause of the incident was enchanted crystals, the kind often used in mage practices to either ward off or lure demonic creatures in. Several of the crystals within the temple had been exchanged for cursed ones. Their presence in the temple’s barrier caused it to malfunction, and that’s also why the weather shifted so drastically. We’ve also found that the drink Irene consumed was laced with those same crystals—turning her blood toxic. And, unfortunately, I heard from Seung-min that you were affected by the poison as well.”

“I was?”

“Yes. Did you not feel any signs of poor health? You are out for a few days.”

“I did…but that doesn’t make any sense. I wasn’t the one who drank anything tampered with.” His voice is small, uncertain.

The Queen shakes her head, a frown pulling at her mouth. “Had you been near the girl at all when she collapsed? Or at least come into contact with her fluids in any way? That could have been enough.”

Felix hesitates, the memory flashing uncomfortably behind his eyes—Irene’s blood against his skin. Before he can mention that, the Queen waves a hand dismissively. “Still, that isn’t important now. All that matters is it could’ve been Yeji or you, and we are grateful it wasn’t.”

Felix nods slowly, a furrow between his brows. “I see…”

“There’s more,” The King says quietly. “Many of the crystals found—their core material—originated from your homeland, Felix. Sunstone. It’s a rare mineral only found in the regions of the Sunshine Kingdom.”

Felix’s heart stutters painfully. “What?”

The Queen gives a grim nod. “And while sunstone itself is beautiful and harmless in jewelry, when broken down and refined in a certain way…it becomes toxic. Especially when ingested. Whoever created that poison used it intentionally. They knew what they were doing, and this was no accident. Someone wanted to cause destruction—to disrupt the temple and hurt our people.”

Felix’s mouth goes dry. Linked back to his kingdom. Again.

“That does not mean you’re to blame, Felix,” the Queen says quickly, her hand coming to rest over his. “Let me be clear. Your lineage will not condemn you here. You are our family now. And no evil trace of blood or old enemies will change that. You were with others the entire time. We know someone else snuck the poison in and purposely gave it to you.”

For a moment, Felix can only sit there, staring up at them with wide, glassy eyes, uncertain whether to believe it—or dare hope it stays true. His throat tightens as he tries to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. “You both may know that…but does everyone else?”

The Queen and King exchange a glance. It’s brief, subtle—but enough. Felix’s stomach drops. The silence that follows is too long. “We’re handling it carefully,” the Queen says at last, her heavy. “The temple staff and a select few within the castle are aware of the true cause. Irene’s family has been informed, and they’ve agreed to remain quiet for now about what happened to her. Irene is…shaken. Hurt. And Jeongin—he’s still young. Protective. They both need time.”

Felix looks away, blinking rapidly. Of course they do. But in the meantime, rumors are spreading from others who were there. Stolen glances. The hushed voices. He can already feel them like knives in his back. “So I’m the traitor,” He says flatly, not as a question, but as a truth already cementing in his mind. “That’s what everyone thinks.”

“No,” the Queen says, firmer now. “Well—That’s what we’re trying to prevent. But things are fragile, Felix. Tensions are high, and this kingdom has seen too much darkness. The people want answers. And when there are none—” She pauses, then sighs. “They…look for someone to blame,” She finishes bitterly.

Felix’s jaw clenches, and he forces himself to nod, though it feels more like a surrender than understanding. “…What about Hyun-Jin?” He asks, voice low, barely audible. “Has he said anything about this?”

The room stills.

The Queen hesitates. The King exhales slowly.

“We haven’t heard much from him,” She says gently. “He’s remained at the temple, helping with the repairs. He hasn’t spoken to anyone since the attack as he’s too busy.

“Oh,” He mumurs, shrinking back slightly, the air sucked from his lungs. That was it, then. No word. No message. No reassurance. “Though…” His voice breaks slightly. He forces it steady again. “Does Hyun-Jin think the same?”

The Queen smiles softly, something warm and knowing in her eyes. “Of course not,” She says. “With how much he cares for you, Felix, I doubt any lie could sway him. He and Irene may seem close, but she’s more Yeji’s friend.”

Felix wants to believe that. Wants to hold onto her words, cling to them like a lifeline. But all he can see—seared behind his eyes—is that look Hyun-Jin gave him before everything fell apart. Cold. Cruel. Unreadable. It hadn’t been specifically hatred. But it hadn’t been warmth, either. And there was still Jeongin. Still the accusations. Still the way everything seemed to crumble the moment he thought they were finally good.

It’s like standing in the center of a crumbling bridge, unsure which step might make the whole thing fall. Whoever that man was that mentioned his formal name—whoever served him those drinks, planted those crystals—it all has to be because of jiho. It’s been a little over two months of his time here, and Jiho is probably getting antsy that it hasn’t fallen apart yet. That he is still here. Still standing. Still loved. Maybe not by everyone—but enough to matter.

There's no doubt it wasn’t his doing. Every thread leads back to him—just subtle enough to avoid blame, but loud enough to ruin Felix if it worked. He hired someone from the Mage’s Tower—that much is clear now—there’s no other explanation for how the crystals were altered, for how they ended up in a kingdom they should’ve never touched. Jiho couldn’t get his hands dirty himself, so he used power and influence to bribe someone with the right skills. Someone willing to forge magic in the dark and make sure it all led back to him. He knows there’s less than a month left. Hell, he’ll be counting down every day, every hour, every minute, every second, dreading the fact that there’s less than a month until the engagement between him and Hyun-Jin is cemented and the royal seal cannot be reversed.

Before can think about it further, the King places a gentle hand on his arm. “You should get some rest,” He says kindly. “You’ve been through more than most could bear, and your body’s still healing.”

He nods faintly, though the tension in his chest doesn’t ease.

“Oh—” The king adds, almost as an afterthought. “A letter arrived yesterday. For you. We weren’t sure if we should open it…but it was addressed from the Sunshine Kingdom. Of course, we haven’t made the incident a few days ago known to your parents. We're choosing to keep it private for now, so don’t worry.”

Felix nods again, and the Queen rises first, smoothing her hands over her dress. The King follows, offering Felix a brief, reassuring nod. “Rest,” She says gently. “We will return later to check on you again.”

Felix bobs his head for a third time, the motion stiff and mechanical. He doesn’t trust himself to speak. The door shuts behind them with a soft click, and the room becomes silent but for the thudding of his pulse in his ears. He sits frozen for a moment longer, hands trembling faintly. The pit in his stomach churns violently as he reaches out for the letter next to his bed, hesitantly opening it.

{My dearest Yong-bok,

How quiet you’ve been. I spent every night for the past eight weeks listening for your footsteps, pressing my ear to the door as if I could will you home with my desperation. It’s been…what, nearly two and a half months? Ten weeks? Seventy days since you left? And not a single proper reply. Strange, isn’t it? I remember you promising you’d write—with that angelic voice of yours, warm eyes, swearing you’d keep your word like a good little thing. You said you’d miss me. And yet here I am, counting down the hours while you sit in that snowy palace without so much as a message to your dear family.

How disobedient. But I forgive you, our dear sunshine. New court, new faces, that dazzling prince beside you—Hyun-Jin, was it? He means well, I’m sure, but don’t let him pull your strings so tightly. You’ve gotten too comfortable. That kingdom of theirs must feel like silk after everything I gave you. They’ve spoiled you too fast. But don’t worry. I’ll fix you. Fate has granted us perfect timing: Our family has been invited to the annual hunting contest this month, and we’ll be in Artevmia’s capital for a full week. A week is all the time I need to remind you where your true home lies. I do hope you make some time to reply this time. Even one line on parchment will soothe this vile ache in my chest. Though, how was the show?

—Yours Truly, Jiho }

Felix’s eyes skim the words again, unwillingly. Each line reads like a confession wrapped in velvet—soft to the eye, but barbed underneath. The strokes of Jiho’s handwriting are elegant, but the meaning they carry is anything but. It’s possession. Obsession. And the worst part—the part that never fails to send a chill down Felix’s spine—is the ease with which Jiho dresses it up in care. As if it’s normal. As if they’re not blood, family, cousins. That fact alone should’ve made any of this impossible—but Jiho’s “friendly” touches, his words, his gaze—they’d always lingered too long, crossed too far. This letter only heightens what Felix has always tried to ignore, time and time again: Jiho wants to own him. To mold him. To punish him for growing beyond his reach.

A week. He’ll be here for a week.

He feels sick.

Without another moment to waste he tears the letter. Once. Twice. Over and over until it is nothing more than shredded pieces between his fists. He stands and thrusts the remains into the dying embers of the fireplace. The scraps catch flame immediately, curling black around the edges before vanishing entirely in a hiss of smoke and heat.

Rest.

He couldn’t go back to sleep. Not after that.

He needs air, space. A way to clear his head of Jiho’s words, of the bile in his throat, and the shadows crawling beneath his skin. Grabbing his coat and shoes, Felix opens the door and steps into the hallway. It’s early morning—still quiet with a few servants bustling around; hushed in a way that makes his footsteps sound too loud. He doesn’t walk with direction, just drifts. Past locked doors and dim lanterns, his hands occasionally brushing the wall for balance. A dry cough slips out before he can muffle it, and he presses a hand to his chest.

Felix rounds another corner, steps slowing when he notices a group of maids clustered outside one of the guest rooms. Their voices are hushed and anxious. One is holding folded linens. Another clutches a bowl of fresh water. It wasn’t unusual to see them about, but something about their stillness—the tense hush in their voices—made Felix pause. He recognized the room vaguely. A guest suite, rarely used unless someone from outside the palace was staying. He steps closer. “Is something wrong?” He asks softly.

The maids startled slightly, turning to look at him and bowing quickly. “Your Highness,” One says, smoothing her apron, “Forgive us. We didn’t mean to disturb the hallway.”

“You’re not,” Felix says quickly, giving a small smile. “I just was wondering…is anything going on?”

There was a beat of silence. The maids exchanged cautious glances as if silently debating who should speak. Eventually, the older of the three stepped forward, her expression tinged with worry. “A guest is being seen to by the healers,” She explains carefully. “We were told to keep things quiet. It’s sensitive.”

Felix’s frown deepens. “A guest?”

She hesitates. “Yes. Lady Irene.”

“Ah,” He blinks at the maid, processing her words again through the rushing white noise in his ears. “Irene…?” He echoes, the name brittle, paper-thin.

The maid gives a small, respectful nod. “Yes, Your Highness. Lady Irene was brought here from the temple incident since she was in critical condition and needed our best healers. She’s stable now but is still being tended to.”

“Oh, I see. I should be leaving then so I don’t disturb her. Thank you for your help,” He offers a faint bow of his head, already beginning to turn away when the door behind the maids creaks open.

Everyone stills within the hall. A figure steps into view—delicate and slow, as though even standing upright required effort. One hand braces the frame of the doorway, the other pressed lightly to her stomach. Her bloodshot eyes dart between the maids and then land on Felix. The flicker of recognition is instant—and so is the change. Her already pale complexion loses what little color remains. Whatever strength had brought her to the door seems to drain from her bones.

Felix freezes. “Irene,” He said, voice barely audible. “I was just leaving—“

“You,” She interrupted, her voice rough. “You’re still here.”

“I didn’t mean to disturb—”

“Why?” Irene’s voice cracks as she steps forward, eyes wide and shining with unshed tears. “Why are you still here? Why haven’t you gone back to where you came from?!”

The question hits like a stone to the ribs. His throat goes dry. “Because I didn’t do this to you, Irene. I swear—I would never—”

A raw, broken sound tears from her chest as she suddenly surges forward, striking him hard in the chest with both fists. “Liar!” She sobs. “You stood there and acted like you cared—and all the while, you were planning it!”

“Irene—please—” Felix falters, his voice barely audible.

She hits him again, weaker now, trembling hands fisting the front of his shirt, dragging him closer like she’s desperate to hold onto something—anything.

“I thought we were friends,” She breathes, eyes wild. “You gave me kindness—and then you poisoned me!”

“I didn’t,” Felix says, hoarse. But as he speaks, he sees it. Not just grief. Not just pain. Something else behind her eyes—aware, deceiving. This isn’t just a breakdown, it’s a performance. The way she emphasizes her words when she knows others are listening. The tremble in her voice, perfectly timed. The way her shoulders sag at just the right moment to draw sympathy. She’s using it. All of it. This moment, the eyes around them, her crocodile tears—she’s turning them into weapons, spinning a narrative out of his control.

“I didn’t do anything,” He says again, his voice steadier now. “But you—”

“Then why?” She screams. “Why does everything lead back to you, Felix?! The sunstone. The drinks. I—I know you always hated me!”

His mouth falls open in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”

“You were always cruel!” She spits. “You pretended to be kind, but you were talking behind my back the whole time! You loathed me!”

Felix stares at her—distraught, surprised, and disgusted. She’s switching her own faults with his. She was the one who talked behind his back. She was cruel. She didn’t like him then and still doesn’t now. And yet, she’s weaponizing her tears and the fragility of her condition. And the worst part? She knows exactly how to make it believable.

All the more reason he needs to go.

He tries to pull back, to ease her off him without hurting her, but she surges forward again, unrelenting. Her voice rises into something hysterical. “You tried to kill me! Just admit it! Admit it, Felix!”

He grabs her wrists—not harshly, but enough to stop her from hitting him again. “Stop it, Irene! You’re not thinking straight.”

“Don’t touch me!” She shrieks, wrenching away just as a few assistants pass by. “Help—he’s hurting me!”

Felix’s eyes widened. “What are you—?”

“Lady Irene—please, calm down—Prince Felix was only passing by!” One of the maids there pleads, stepping between them. “Your health will get worse if you continue like this. I can assure you he was only worried—“

Irene shakes her head wildly, her knees buckling. “I can’t—I can’t breathe—” She whimpers, then collapses into one of the maid’s arms with a well-timed sob.

Felix feels his eye twitch.

And then—

“Get away from her!” The voice echoes through the corridor. Jeongin is there, eyes blazing, his expression dark with fury. He storms forward, hands balled into fists at his sides, shoulders taut with rage. “You unbelievable bastard,” Jeongin spits, already closing the distance. “You dare touch her—after everything?!”

“Wait—I didn’t—” Felix starts, raising his hands, stepping back.

But it’s too late.

Jeongin’s face twists in righteous anger, and it’s clear he’s no longer here to listen.

Only to strike.

Jeongin lunges. The blow lands hard, and Felix’s head snaps to the side with the force of it, his lip splitting open. He stumbles, catching himself against the wall, the breath knocked from his lungs.

“Stop it!” Another one of the maids cries, but no one moves. They’re all frozen, watching.

Felix ducks the second punch, grabbing Jeongin’s wrist and twisting it. The younger man stumbles, thrown off balance—and he takes the opportunity to drive his shoulder forward, slamming Jeongin back against the opposite wall with a heavy thud. “I said wait,” Felix hisses, his voice low, trembling—not with fear, but restraint. “You’re not even letting me explain. Neither of you are.”

Jeongin wrenches free and lifts his hand to throw another punch, but Felix catches it. He shoves him back and his fist slams into Jeongin’s jaw. The impact sends him sprawling to the ground. Gasps echo around the corridor, maids stepping back, stunned. But Jeongin’s already scrambling to his feet.

Another swing comes from him. Felix blocks it with his forearm, then lands a hit to Jeongin’s stomach. Jeongin doubles over with a sharp wheeze, and he stays down this time, groaning, gasping for breath. The doors behind them burst open. Several healers rush out from Irene’s room, drawn by the noise.

“Enough!” One of them shouts. They hurry forward as Felix raises his arm again—not to strike, but to defend himself. Still, it’s enough to make them act. Two grab Felix, pulling him back with urgent force. Another shields Jeongin, holding him upright as he coughs violently.

“Let me go!” Jeongin yells, trying to push past them.

“That’s enough, young lord—” A healer warns. “You’ve lost yourself, remember the consequences. You’re already on probation.”

But Jeongin’s too far gone. His eyes blaze with anger. “You’ve been a threat since the moment you stepped foot here. They should’ve seen it then when that dragon attacked. You’ve got dirty blood in you—that’s the danger. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened. God knows what you do when you’re alone with your cousin!”

The words impair him like a blade. The tension in his shoulders falters, just for a moment. His expression doesn’t crumble—but his eyes give him away. Wounded. Just for a second Jeongin sees it, but he’s too blinded to care. Maybe he even meant to hurt him. The hallway falls eerily quiet. Even Irene, slumped in the background, stares wide eyed, as if knowing he went to far. Felix slowly lowers his arms and the healers release him. He just looks at Jeongin one last time—silently, unreadable—and turns.

He walks away, shoulders tense, fists scrapped, back stiff as if holding himself together by sheer will alone. He hadn’t meant to fight. He never does, but this called for it. For years, he let the world believe he was composed, too refined for violence. A figure of grace, not force. He’s been pushed around, deemed weak, with little care to correct it until now. Jeongin came at him crazy—righteous and blind—and he only did what he had to do. And yet, was it worth it?

Felix doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he tastes salt on his lips. He wipes at his cheek quickly, as if the tear was a mistake—like everything else. The corridor is already behind him, voices fading. He doesn’t know where he’s going, only that he has to get away from them all.

He walks past the guards without acknowledging them, ignoring the way they glance at his disheveled state. He needs somewhere private. Not the usual spots. Not the gardens. Not the courtyard, where someone might see him there. He veers off the path—stumbles, almost—toward the small clearing behind the stables, where the castle wall curls into the edge of the enchanted forest. It’s rarely visited. Tucked behind ivy and stone. He slumps down there, back against the cold wall, as his chest rises and falls with shallow, broken breaths.

Hyunjin.

For a second, the thought offers relief. The way his name slips through Felix’s mind is almost a comfort—almost.

But then reality settles like ash in his chest.

No.

No—he’s busy. And once he hears about this…Felix shakes his head, hard, like he can scatter the thought. It only tightens the knot in his throat.

Would Hyunjin even take his side?

They’ve been closer, yes. Circumstances have pushed them into proximity, and something like trust has begun to take shape between them. But it’s a fragile thing—unfinished. And too many things still stand between them, unsaid, unresolved. Hyunjin might defend him. He might look him in the eye and see something worth believing in. But then again—he might not. He could change his stance the moment enough pressure is applied. And there is pressure. Felix knows it, even if no one says it outright. Not everyone knows what happened at the temple—not the full truth—but people know enough. Enough to point fingers, to whisper behind doors. The destruction that followed left scars across the land. It frightened the townspeople. Shook the aristocracy. Undermined order.

And all of it is circling back to Hyunjin.

They’ll be pushing the alpha by now. The court. The elders. They’ll want him to distance himself from whatever chaos remains. From him. From the “threat,” Jeongin threw in his face. Felix wraps his arms around himself, folding in tighter. Even if Hyunjin wants to stand beside him—can he afford to? The doubt festers like rot. All these years, Felix has been used to carrying things alone. But now, just when he let himself believe someone might stand with him—It might all come undone again. And worst of all, he wouldn’t blame Hyunjin with that disgusting rumor circulating around him—destroying his reputation and making understanding hard to receive from others.

Felix buries his face in his hands, his fingers threading through his hair, trying to hold himself together.

A low grow makes him jolt back up, turning the the side.

Grimace stands before him, half-shadowed by the creeping vines. His eyes glint in the light, body low to the ground, like he’s been tracking him.

He quickly wipes his cheek with the sleeve of his coat. His voice comes out raw, barely above a whisper. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s too dangerous this close to the castle. Did you…come looking for me?”

The fox demon blinks. Its body shifts slightly, one paw forward, a subtle nod of intent.

Felix smiles once—short, fleeting. “Well, it’s nice to see you,” He mutters, eyes stinging again.

Grimace moves closer, slow and silent, sitting just a few feet away. Watching him. Not judging. Not demanding anything. Just there. Felix doesn’t speak again for a long while. He just lets the silence settle between them, broken only by the icy wind through the trees and the faint hum of something magical lingering on the edge of the woods.

So, Grimace does instead. “Come with me.”

Felix doesn’t startle. He doesn’t even look surprised. Only tired. He rubs his eyes, red-rimmed, his voice soft. “You’re not going to let me be miserable alone, are you?”

Grimace snorts, the sound more breath than sound. His form begins to ripple, stretching larger—shadow twisting through muscle, fur blooming darker. Within moments, he stands tall enough for Felix to mount easily—almost the size of a stallion. He hesitates briefly before swinging a leg over Grimace’s back, his hands pressing into thick fur.

Once settled, Grimace begins to move, paw tracks surprisingly invisible against the frost-covered earth, carrying Felix into the forest. And though he doesn’t know where they’re going, he lets his eyes flutter shut. The steady rhythm of Grimace’s movement, the whisper of wind, the warmth beneath him—all of it lulls him into something just shy of sleep.

-.-

Somewhere else,a door swings open with a thud. Changbin steps inside, muttering something under his breath as he kicks the snow from his boots. He doesn’t look up at first—just shrugs off his coat, distracted, halfway through a complaint about being summoned on short notice. Then he sees it. A figure laid out on the floor like they collapsed mid-step. Changbin’s breath catches. “The hell? Hyunjin—?” He’s across the room in seconds, dropping to his knees beside him. “You scared the shit out of me,” he snaps, clutching his chest. His hands move instinctively, one waving in front of the Prince’s face, the other reaching to check his pulse.

The door creaks again behind him. Seungmin steps inside, his expression blank. “Leave him,” He says simply, already having witnessed him like this. “He’s been like that since he got separated from Felix.”

Changbin glances over his shoulder. “What, just lying here like a ghost?”

Seungmin shrugs, unbothered. “He’s refused to eat or sleep for three days straight. The temple reworking has been rough on him, and he’s been staying up longer than us to finish quickly so he can leave.”

Changbin hums low. “Well, if he hadn’t made such a mess with the monsters then there wouldn’t be much to clean.”

He looks back to Hyunjin, and as if on cue when the prince stirs. His lashes flutter once. Then again. And then his eyes open—sharp and dark and full of something he doesn’t bother hiding.

Concern.

Anxiety.

Anger.

The kind that simmers just beneath the surface, waiting to spark.

“Hey,” Changbin says carefully. “Welcome back.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer. He just sits up, slowly, like something in his chest aches. His hair falls into his face, slightly disheveled, and the shadows beneath his eyes are evidence of his lack of sleep. He rubs his face with both hands, dragging his palms down slowly as if trying to wipe the weight of it all away.

“Where are we at now?” He mutters, voice rough around the edges.

Seungmin doesn’t hesitate. “All the walls are stabilized, and the barrier is back up as well. The southern temple still needs clearing—there’s residual energy clinging to the stones, and the tainted soil’s spreading slower now, but it’s still active.”

Changbin tilts his head. “The inner shrine is finally clean too.”

Hyunjin lets out a long breath. “Okay, and…Felix?” He asks.

“Doing better. Your parents went to see him earlier, and Jisung rode back over there to check back on him an hour ago.”

“Is the poison still affecting him?”

Changbin nods. “Yes, though it should be cleared from his system by tomorrow.”

That should be good news to him, but rather it makes him bitter and more worried. Guilty. Had he moved a bit faster and closer, he could’ve pulled him away before Irene’s blood ever touched him. Before the infection took root. Before everything spiraled. He swallows hard. In that moment—just before it happened—when he grabbed him too roughly in panic. That flicker of surprise. Of hurt. He hadn’t meant to grip him that hard. Hadn’t meant for his voice to rise the way it did. But adrenaline and dread had twisted something in him, and Felix had looked at him like he was someone else entirely. And that, more than anything, won’t leave him. He needs to apologize and explain himself as soon as he can.

“Is there any more opposition toward him among the temple staff?”

Seungmin answers without pause. “No. You practically exiled them all. Anyone who claimed it was his fault—citing the sunstone evidence—has been removed and dealt with.”

Hyunjin nods stiffly.

But it doesn’t stop the next question from spilling out.

“What about Jeongin?”

That’s the one that finally gives Changbin pause. He glances at Seungmin, and the two share a silent exchange before Changbin answers carefully.

“Ah…”

He exhales. “He’s still… bothered by the situation. There’s tension between him and Felix due to Irene’s condition. Even though you put him on probation, there’s no changing his attitude.”

Seungmin adds quietly, “He’s worried for his sister. And he doesn’t know whose side to take anymore. After hearing the cause was someone from the Sunshine Kingdom, he’s…pinned his anger on Felix.”

Silence stretches.

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens.

“Though, I have a hypothetical question,” He says, eyes fixed on Hyunjin. “If Felix were actually the culprit and was found guilty… would you still take his side? Like—perhaps—what if everything that’s been said about him has been true and he could be a danger to our kingdom?”

Hyunjin turns his head slowly, eyes narrowing. The glare he gives Seungmin could burn through steel.

Immediately, Seungmin lifts both hands in mock surrender. “I’m only saying, what if. Hypothetical. I completely trust the prince and I would never think wrong of him.”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. He just stands—shoulders tight, brushing off his knees. His voice comes quiet when he does reply. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“What?” Changbin asks, a frown pulling at his mouth.

Hyunjin looks past both of them. “I don’t care if he’s convicted.”

There’s a pause. The weight of that statement hangs in the air, heavy and dangerous. Changbin’s eyes widen slightly. “Hyunjin. Your sister’s friend almost died.”

“Yes,” He agrees, too calmly. “That’s true. My sister’s friend.” It’s not dismissive. It’s not cruel, but it’s clear. There’s a line—and Felix is on one side of it. Everyone else is on the other.

Seungmin chuckles, grinning ear to ear. “You know, we’re all really surprised with your behavior. Who knew you’d change so quickly? You must really love him.”

Hyunjin’s feels heat creep up the back of his neck, crawling like fire beneath his skin. “…I do,” He says, voice soft. “Though, I’m not sure he—”

SLAM.

The door bursts open, crashing against the wall with a jolt that sends all three snapping to attention. A knight stumbles into the room they’re in, out of breath, his armor clinking with every desperate step. He looks like he’s run straight from the castle without stopping once, which has to take at least thirteen minutes. “Prince Hyunjin—!” he gasps, bending over with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. “I—I’m sorry for interrupting, but—I think you need to come back. Immediately.”

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. “What is it?”

The knight lifts his head, face pale. “It’s Jisung and Jeongin. They’re fighting. And I—I think Jisung is going to kill him.”

Chapter Text

“Stand up.” Jisung’s voice is cruel, oddly unfamiliar to the man before him. His tone had always been playful, kind, but now—it’s nothing but cold. “And hold your sword properly. Two hands.”

Jeongin wipes the blood at the corner of his mouth, staggering. His knuckles are scraped, grip unsteady around the hilt. “You’re doing too much,” he grits out, chest heaving. “It wasn’t like I—”

“Two hands, Innie.” Jisung steps forward, fury rolling just beneath the surface. “Or I’ll knock you down again.”

“You don’t even know what happened—”

“I KNOW ENOUGH!” Jisung slams his blade against Jeongin’s, the force nearly ripping it from the alpha’s hands. “The maids told me everything.” His voice is trembling now, not with fear, but with restraint stretched thin. “How you put your hands on him. Accused him. Cornered him with your sister.”

“That’s not—” Jeongin raises his sword defensively. “He was attacking Irene! He even attacked me!”

“It was out of defense!” Jisung’s roar explodes through the air, echoing into the atmosphere outside. “And yet you kept going.” Their blades clash again. Steel scrapes and sparks fly as Jeongin tries to deflect the blow, but Jisung’s strength is unmatched. He’s not fighting to spar. He’s fighting to hurt.

“This isn’t justice—” Jeongin gasps as Jisung’s sword grazes his thigh.

“No,” Jisung spits out. “It’s a lesson.” He ducks low, slashes up to cut across Jeongin’s side, the sword dipping through his clothing and leaving a bloody wound to bloom in seconds. “What the hell is wrong with you, Innie?”

Jeongin grips his side, shaking. “I was angry, you know I had a right to be. I—I may have made a mistake in how rough—”

“A mistake? You don’t get to make mistakes like that!” Jisung hammers the flat of his blade against Jeongin’s shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground. The alpha scrambles to his knees quickly—but Jisung’s already there, sword pressed to his chest, eyes seething. “He hasn’t even recovered, and you want to tear him down more than everyone else already is? That’s not just cruelty. That’s hate.”

Jeongin finally shouts, breathing raggedly. “Then what do you want me to do?! Apologize and grovel at his feet when he is the suspected perpetrator? The evidence—“

A swift motion cuts off his words. Jisung’s sword lifts high and drives straight down into the ground, just shy of Jeongin’s ear. His head. The metal hums from the force, buried inches deep in the frozen dirt. Jisung leans over him, voice low and shaking. “You fought him like an enemy. And you want to talk about who’s the perpetrator? Even if he is suspected, you don't get to treat him like that. He’s been so kind to everyone. He tried to help your sister—he was the first at her side during the temple attack. You don’t have to like him, but you will respect him regardless because he will be our kingdom's new prince soon enough.” Jisung hisses. “You’re lucky Hyun-Jin isn’t around, otherwise his punishment for you would be—“

“Han Jisung.”

Jeongin freezes beneath him. That voice. Jisung does too, his entire body going still. Slowly, both of them turn. Hyunjin stands at the entrance of the knight yard, a storm in human form. Snow has gathered on the edges of his cloak, caught in his hair, and his eyes are locked on the sword driven into the dirt just inches from Jeongin’s head. There’s silence for a moment, but it’s not peaceful. It’s the kind that comes like thunder; the light before the boom.

“Remove your weapon from him,” Hyunjin says, narrowing his eyes.

Jisung hesitates—but obeys. He yanks the sword from the ground, sheathing it without taking his eyes off Jeongin, who’s still on his back, panting. Hyunjin approaches, and his eyes rake over Jeongin, taking in the damage. His tunic is torn, one sleeve nearly ripped off at the shoulder. Long, shallow cuts run down his arms, still bleeding slightly, the skin red and raw where he clearly tried to shield himself. A bruise blooms across one side of his cheekbone, dark and ugly, and one eye is beginning to swell shut. His lip is split. Blood stains the collar of his shirt, trailing down to his collarbone in a slow, dried trickle. He winces before letting out a sigh. “Explain, now.”

Jisung puts his hands up. “Ask him that.”

Jeongin says nothing at first. He knows he’s already lost control of the situation. “I’m not doing this right now,” He eventually mutters, dragging himself upright even as his muscles scream. “Both of you leave me alone.”

“You don’t get to walk away,” Jisung snaps. “Not after what you did to Felix. Tell him. But oh, you can’t. You know you were wrong.”

Hyunjin’s expression hardens. “Felix? What is he talking about?”

Jeongin says nothing. Even with the weight of Hyunjin’s stare pressing down on him, he stays silent. Pride tightens his jaw. “Prince Hyunjin…” A maid approaches hesitantly, her breath puffing in pale clouds. She’s one of the maids who has been there outside Irene’s room, face flushed from the cold and the nerves tugging at her. “I was there,” She says quickly, glancing at Jeongin, then away again once he glares at her. “I—I witnessed everything. The fight. What Lady Irene said, and how young master Jeongin reacted.”

Hyunjin’s brow furrows. “What fight?”

The maid falters. “Between…Prince Jeongin and Prince Felix.”

That makes Hyunjin pause, breath catching for a split second. Jeongin doesn’t need to look up to feel the harshness of Hyunjin’s stare. Hyunjin moves slowly, each step forward crunches the snow beneath his boots until he’s in front of him, lowering to one knee. His hand fists into Jeongin’s collar, dragging his head up until their eyes met. “Is that true?” Hyunjin’s voice is low, deadly calm. “You struck him?”

Jeongin’s jaw clenches, his gaze refusing to stray. His silence is confirmation enough.

Hyunjin’s expression darkens. “You hit him,” He breathes. “After he was poisoned, still recovering.”

Still, Jeongin doesn’t speak.

“Look at me.” Hyunjin’s voice hardens, and his grip on Jeongin’s collar tightens enough to make him flinch. “You don’t get to go quiet now. Tell me why.”

Still no answer.

The maid’s hands twist into the fabric of her apron. “I-I’ll explain instead. Lady Irene had just woken, and Prince Felix had been crossing by. She happened to come out and see him there, and he was politely trying to excuse himself. Gentle, even. But she…” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “She accused him of poisoning her. Loudly. And Prince Jeongin—he didn’t try to de-escalate it. He shouted, too. He grabbed him. Called him…names. Awful ones. Said he had dirty blood. Said—” She hesitates, then rushes through the rest. “Said that God knows what happens between Prince Felix and his cousin.”

For a moment, no one breathes.

Everyone’s eyes fall toward Hyun-Jin, and in the next moment, he’s moving. There’s no hesitation. No warning. One second his hands are empty, the next they’re not. Jisung’s sword is in his grip, unsheathed with a hiss, and raised above Jeongin’s throat. His face is twisted with something dangerous—rage that’s long past boiling over.

“Hyunjin—!” Jisung lunges, hands flying up to wrap around Hyunjin’s, locking around his wrists with all the strength he has. The force of Hyunjin’s downward swing is enough to drag Jisung halfway down with him, and for a moment, the sword stays suspended in a trembling deadlock between striking and restraint. Hyunjin’s teeth are clenched, eyes blazing with something animal-like. “Stop it!” Jisung grits out, digging his heels into the snow as he strains to keep the sword from falling. “You’ll actually kill him—!”

“He deserves it!” Hyunjin practically snarls. His voice is unrecognizable—hoarse and violent, split from the weight of too much feeling. He thrashes harder, the blade quivering dangerously in Jisung’s grip. “He put his hands on my husband—and you expect me to let him live?!”

“Hyunjin, breathe!” Jisung warns, nearly losing his grip. But it’s not enough. The sword is slipping, his grip is getting weaker, and within another minute—

A blur of motion suddenly crashes into them—Changbin and Seungmin, appearing just in time. Changbin grips Hyunjin’s arms and yanks him back with a grunt, while Seungmin grabs the sword and steals it from his grasp. The three of them stumble, the sword clattering into the ground with a sharp metallic ring. Hyunjin thrashes, but the weight of them pins him down, and slowly, slowly—his strength wanes. Not because the rage has faded, but because it’s consuming him from the inside out.

“Enough,” Changbin says breathlessly. “I don’t think Felix would want you to handle your anger like this on his behalf.”

Hyunjin trembles in their grip, his chest heaving like a beast caged too long. His gaze stays locked on Jeongin, now silent and pale, reflecting on what just happened. “Don’t ever let me hear you acted toward him that way again,” Hyunjin says, voice low. “You think your grief gives you the right to tear someone else apart? You’re no knight of mine—not until you face what you’ve done and apologize to Felix. Until then, don’t bother wearing that crest. And if you don’t, then you can hand your position over permanently.”

Jeongin’s throat bobs, eyes wide, but no words come. He’s distraught, struck, but Hyun-Jin doesn’t care.

At the mention of, Felix—the maid clears her throat to get their attention, and the anxiety over her face tells them. steps forward, wringing her hands. “Your Highness…that’s also what I meant to tell you earlier.”

Hyunjin’s attention shifts to her.

She avoids his gaze. “Prince Felix…he’s not in the castle,” She says, voice faltering. “I thought he just went out for a walk after the fight, but it’s been two hours now, and I’m worried he got lost. He’s...gone.”

“Gone?” He echoes, eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, gone?”

The maid gulps. “I checked his residence. The courtyard, the gardens, even the eastern hall. His scent fades beyond the outer gates, and the guards said they didn’t see him leaving outside.” Her voice tightens with dread. “We think he might’ve slipped out…alone.”

Hyunjin’s breath catches in his throat. Gone. The word echoes like a thunderclap behind his ribs. He stares at the maid, unmoving, as though the weight of her words hasn’t yet registered—and then, all at once, it does. The rage that once burned in his chest twists into something colder—fear.

“Why wasn’t I told sooner?” He demands.

“Y-You were at t-the temple,” She stammers. “And with the knights training, and lady Irene demanding we stay with her, I—”

“Enough.”

-.-.-

Crushing. Chomping. Gnawing.

There’s a noise that sounds like something hard is grinding, breaking, and squishing together.

It’s not coming from his head, no. His head is making an unusual, dull ring. There’s nothing on his mind and it’s nothing he’s imagining.

Crushing. Chomping. Gnawing.

The sound becomes louder, and after another moment, Felix peels one eye open. As soon as he does so, however, he jolts up just as quickly. Before him is a monstrous creature—not exactly demonic but not exactly cute either. It’s twice the size of a bear, large, wide, and oddly standing on two fat legs like a human. It has the ears and face of a bunny, with pointed teeth sticking over its mouth. There’s a pair of small horns on the top of its head, and it has claws so sharp they could cut through metal. Upon hearing him move, it turns its head—beady eyes assessing him—and Felix sees some type of red liquid staining the fur around its mouth.

It takes a single step forward. The earth beneath its clawed feet crunches with the weight, and Felix instinctively scrambles backward, boots slipping in the frozen dirt. The creature snorts, a puff of hot air leaving its nose, and it pauses… then lowers itself into a crouch, sitting on its butt. And then it reaches down, picks up the half-chewed carcass it had been gnawing on before, and nudges it slightly toward him, like an offering.

“…Oh,” Felix whispers, frozen halfway between fear and confusion. “You’re…friendly?”

The creature grins.

Or bares its bloody teeth.

It’s hard to tell.

“Can you understand me?”

It nods, then it’s jaw parts to say— “Piri-Piri!”

“Do you have a…name?”

“Piri-Piri!”

“Ah…okay.” Felix trails off, thinking for a moment. It’s clear this monster can understand him, but can’t speak human words like grimace. “I’ll call you Pirichan then?”

At the name, it claps its paws and makes a high-pitched sound. Once its excitement wears off, it tries to give Felix the carcass to eat, but he shakes his head. Still, it insists, and after a while, when it realizes he won’t eat, the change is immediate. The creature deflates, its broad shoulders slumping and long ears drooping like wet leaves. Pirichan gives a small, pitiful sniff and its arms circle around the mangled carcass like it’s a comfort toy. The contrast is almost too surreal—something so massive and terrifying looking, acting so…gentle. Childlike, even.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” He apologizes. “I appreciate your effort, but I think you should eat it for yourself. I’ll be fine,” That’s what he says at least, but his stomach feels like it’s caving in, growling underneath his clothes. He leans back, taking a moment to look at his surroundings. He seems to be in a cave, quiet, save for the distant drip of water echoing from deeper inside. Moonlight spills in through a narrow hole in the ceiling above, casting silvery streaks across the stone walls.

He sits against a curved portion of the wall, the floor beneath him covered in layered furs and moss—clearly arranged with care. The air is cold, but the stone holds a lingering warmth from the creature’s presence, and somewhere nearby, the faint glow of dying embers hints at a fire that must’ve been tended for a while. Bones from previous meals have been neatly stacked in one corner, and at the mouth of the cave, thick vines dangle like a curtain, swaying in the wind. Outside, he can see glimpses of the dark forest—thick trees wrapped in frost, magical petals glowing softly under the moonlight. It’s remote here. Isolated. But safe in a strange, uncanny way.

A slow realization sinks in at that—he’s been here for a long time. Not minutes. Hours. Maybe even longer. His body aches with the kind of dull weight that only comes after deep, undisturbed sleep. For once, nothing hurts too much. His head isn’t spinning. His heart isn’t clawing against his ribs like it wants to escape. The silence, the calm…It’s dangerous in how comforting it feels.

Should he return?

The thought creeps in like a whisper. Would Hyunjin be worried about him? Did anyone even notice he left?

But Hyunjin isn’t at the castle. He’d been gone—still handling matters at the temple, still caught in the aftermath of everything Irene left behind. And if Felix were to return now… he knows exactly what would greet him. More accusations. More nobles are ready to paint him as a monster just waiting to fall out of favor. Here, in this strange cave surrounded by moss and furs and eerie quiet, there are no accusations. No burdens. No one is asking him to explain himself again and again for things he didn’t do. Here, he’s just…Felix.

But Hyunjin—

His name is a tether, pulling at the part of him that still hopes. Still wants. Yet when he remembers that look he was given, the answer flees from him. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of what might happen if he sees Hyunjin again. Scared of what he’ll see in his eyes. What if Hyunjin no longer trusts him? What if the words others planted in his ears have finally taken root? Felix draws his knees in, hugging them to his chest. His throat feels dry. He tries to imagine Hyunjin’s voice—warm, grounding—but all he hears are fragments. Echoes. Nothing that feels real enough to hold onto in his self-deprecating mind.

Would it hurt more to go back and find Hyunjin changed…or to never go back and always wonder?

Felix is pulled from the spiraling tangle of his thoughts when something warm and heavy rests atop his head. He blinks, startled—then slowly glances up. Pirichan is patting him gently, one massive paw nestled in his hair with comically soft, clumsy thuds. Its beady eyes are full of something oddly comforting. Not pity, but assurance. The kind of simple, wordless empathy only a creature like this could offer.

Felix can’t help it—he lets out a soft, breathy laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because it cuts through the ache in his chest just enough to let the air in.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, voice a little cracked, “I needed that.”

Pirichan hums something guttural and pleased, then nuzzles his head before settling back beside him with a contented huff.

A bit later, a low, familiar rustling stirs the cave entrance. Felix glances up just as moonlight catches the sleek, shadowed shape of Grimace stepping back into view—his lean, fox-like form larger than usual, fur gleaming silver at the edges. But he isn’t alone.

Behind him, figures emerge like silhouettes from a dream: a trio of tall, antlered horsemen draped in cloaks made of frostbitten leaves, hooves thudding softly against the stone. And then—light, glittering movement—dozens of tiny beings flitting just above their heads, wings catching moonbeams like shards of ice.

Fairies.

Felix straightens, stunned, as Grimace pads forward and lets out a low, rumbling string of syllables in a language he doesn’t recognize—fluid, musical, ancient. The creatures respond in kind, nodding, murmuring amongst themselves. Pirichan perks up beside him, ears twitching excitedly.

Before Felix can ask anything, the fairies descend.

Tiny and glowing, they swirl around him in a dizzying halo of light. One tugs a lock of his hair between small, crystal fingers; another touches the curve of his jaw. Their language is quick and melodic, a chittering sound that vibrates in the air like wind chimes.

Then, one of them—a taller figure with gossamer robes and frost woven into her braid—hovers directly before him. “Indeed,” she says, her voice high and clear. “This is the child of the sun.”

Felix’s breath catches. “What—what does that mean?”

But they don’t answer. Not yet. Instead, the fairies circle faster, murmuring to one another with renewed excitement, as if something long-awaited has finally arrived.

“I keep hearing about this child of the sun,” Felix says, brows knitting. “What is it?”

A chorus of amused gasps flutters through the fairies. “It is not a what,” one fairy corrects, hands planted firmly on her tiny hips. “Rather, it’s a who. You.”

Felix’s expression falters. “You say that, but you’re still not answering me. What does that mean?”

Another fairy, older-looking with gold dust in his hair and eyes like molten glass, floats forward solemnly. “You are blessed,” he says, voice softer now, more reverent. “By the sun god of this world. A descendant in mortal form.”

Felix’s heart skips. “That’s not possible,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I’m just—”

But they hush him gently, with smiles that don’t mock, only understand. And above them all, Grimace sits silently, watching. Waiting. “You are, and there is no doubt. You can speak to us, no?

Felix hesitates, then slowly nods.

Another fairy drifts closer. “Long ago, there were humans with sacred energy in their blood. Not warriors, not kings. Just souls blessed by the gods—children of the sun, moon, and stars. Their gift wasn’t strength, but understanding. They could tame monsters without violence through words and presence.”

“So I can just speak to you all…that’s it?”

The fairy smiles. “No, that’s not all to it. Of course speaking is the main part, but you can also summon any being you choose and control them.”

Felix blinks. “I’m sorry—what?”

The fairy giggles, wings shimmering like frost in the moonlight. “Yes, yes. You hold the blessing of the sun god, remember? The title isn’t just for show or simply a name for an ancient language. It means your voice has weight in the realm of beasts and spirits. You can summon creatures tied to the old world—guardians, shadows, even the ancient ones beneath the soil. But you must be careful. Your bond with monsters is sacred, but it doesn’t mean all of them are kind. Some will test you. Others may want to use you, twist your will. But most will serve.”

“The king of the underworld,” Another pipes up from near his shoulder, “Was bound to obey the sun children long ago. He doesn’t like it, but if you called him, he’d come. He’d probably try to smite everyone else afterward, though, so maybe save that for a very dramatic day. He’s also…larger than the castle, so it’ll be hard for him to move about without crushing something or someone.”

Felix stares at them all, half-dazed. That sounds impossible. A mere fantasy of power beyond himself. He couldn’t use magic, nor did he know how to summon anything useful. Felix’s hands curl slightly in his lap. “I don’t understand,” He admits quietly, eyes flicking from one glowing figure to the next. “If I’m supposed to be this…this ‘child of the sun,’ then why don’t I feel powerful? Why don’t I know what to do?”

Why wasn’t he told this in the past?

“You feel small because the world has made you small,” The fairy says gently. “But your voice carries further than you know. It starts with listening. The monsters, the creatures, even the wind—well all teach you if you let us. That’s what makes you different from a mage or a soldier. All you need to do is think,” She says gently. “Imagine something that would protect you. Not with your fear—but with your heart. The bond you forge is what gives it shape.”

Felix hesitates. “Just…think?”

The fairy nods. “Exactly. You’ve already spoken with creatures most humans would run from. This is no different. Call what you need. It will answer.”

Felix draws in a slow breath. He closes his eyes. Tries not to focus on the doubt, the disbelief still curdling in his gut. Something protective… Something strong. Mighty. Safe. Something that wouldn’t flinch, wouldn’t run, wouldn’t break beneath the weight of what he’s endured.

The ground beneath him trembles, and he opens his eyes.

Instead of something grand and monstrous, instead of a towering beast with fangs and wings—

A tiny kitten with white fur pokes its head from the dirt, yawns, and climbs out with a slow, deliberate wobble.

Felix stares.

It’s small. Ridiculously small. Barely bigger than his arm stretched out. Its fur is soft and puffed up like a dandelion, and It blinks slowly up at him with dark, boba eyes, tail flicking as it yawns—revealing a mouth lined with far too many teeth for a kitten its size.

“…That’s it?” Felix breathes, incredulous.

But the fairies don’t laugh or mock him for it. They’re backing away. Fast. One of them nearly flies into a tree trying to flee. Another hides behind Pirichan, whispering feverishly. Felix frowns, looking between the kitten and the skittish fairies. “Wait—what’s wrong with it?”

“Why did she come up?” One of them whispers.

“She doesn’t come for just anyone,” Another murmurs, eyes wide with something between awe and dread.

Felix glances down at the kitten again. It’s now curled around his ankle, purring so deeply the cave floor vibrates.

“What is she?” He asks carefully.

A third fairy finally answers, voice trembling. “She’s not a guardian. She’s one of the Firstborn.”

Felix’s breath catches. “Firstborn?”

“The ancient beasts made directly by the gods. Untamed. Wild. Most of them are sealed or slumbering across the realms.” The fairy gulps. “And that one…that’s Vireya. The Devourer.”

Felix furrows his brow. “Really? It’s just a kitten.”

Grimace shifts in his perch. The movement is tense now, shoulders hunched, tail flicking like a warning. He’s no longer relaxed—he’s wary. Watching.

“She’s not a kitten,” The first fairy says. “That’s just the appearance she takes on in this world to avoid detection. She’s a vile witch and she took this opportunity to feed on your—“

“Shut your mouth.” The words rumble through the cave like distant thunder—quiet yet undeniable. They do not come from Grimace, nor from any of the gathered fae. They come from the tiny kitten itself.

Vireya lifts her head. “Do not speak of me with such spite,” Vireya says—her voice oddly enchanting, echoing. “I answered his call fairly. I will take what is required when I’m summoned, and after I have fed, I will assist the child of the sun until the stars gutter out.”

The first fairy scoffs. “You will drain him to a husk!”

Vireya’s pupils narrow into slits. “He is the sun’s wellspring. His light returns as quickly as I take it. He will weaken…but he will live. And in that weakness, no harm shall reach him. That is the pact. He will feel nothing but a pull, and I will not break him. Trust me.”

Felix stares at her, hesitant, but willing. “Then, are you able to keep me safe from a mage?”

Vireya’s head tilts at his question, as though amused by its simplicity. “A mage?” She ponders. “I have consumed kings of magic. Whispered death into their ears before their spells ever left their tongues. If it is a mage you fear, then you have nothing to fear at all. Their power is borrowed. Mine is born. But,” She continues, voice hardening.“The laws of this world still unfortunately apply to me. I can only do what it allows, and if this mage is also protected, it will be harder for me to deal with them right away.”

“Ah,” Felix deflates a little, digging his teeth into his lip. “Still, thank you. I’ll allow your servance then.”

A faint hum of satisfaction vibrates in Vireya’s throat. “I’ll be watching,” She says softly, her voice almost a purr. “Call for me, and I will come—no matter where you are.” With that, her body begins to unravel—not gruesome, but surreal. Her form splinters into pale violet petals, scattering on the wind as if she’d never existed at all. Within seconds, she’s gone. Felix blinks at the empty space, a faint chill crawling down his spine. Grimace edges closer to him, low and tense, as if expecting her to return at any moment.

Soon enough, his stomach growls—loudly. A deep, twisting ache coils in his gut, and Felix folds an arm over his body with a wince. He hadn’t eaten since the morning, and now that the “danger” has passed, his body remembers its needs all at once. Grimace shifts beside him, tilting his head. Without a sound, he rises and lumbers toward the back of the cave, where some foraged fruits and dried roots have been tucked away, likely scavenged while Felix slept. He returns a moment later, carefully dropping them at Felix’s feet.

The fairies still hover near the cave entrance, murmuring among themselves in a language Felix doesn’t understand. Their wings flicker rapidly, nervous glints of pale blue and silver, and none dare step too close. Every so often, their eyes dart toward Vireya with something close to resentful fear. Felix pretends not to hear what else they say about her, chewing slowly as he watches the flickering shadows dance along the walls. Grimace stays pressed to his side. Vireya curls around herself at his other flank, radiating quiet menace, and though nothing about this should feel safe…it does, and he wants to stay here for a bit longer.

-.-.-

The blade hisses as Seungmin drags it through the snow, steam rising where demon blood sizzles against the metal. The thick, black-red liquid stains the snow in a wide arc, and his expression remains unreadable as he wipes the edge clean on the carcass of the fallen beast. “He’s not here either.” His voice is grim, tired. “Hyunjin…”

But the prince doesn’t stop. His cloak is worn at the edges, and his expression—blank yet storming beneath the surface—doesn’t shift as he trudges forward. Branches claw at his sleeves, and the snow crunches louder beneath his steps, heavier with each passing moment.

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin tries again, louder this time. “We’ve been searching for four days—“

“Five,” Hyun-Jin quickly corrects.

Seungmin sighs. Half of the kingdom and all of the knights have been searching for Felix since he disappeared. They’ve searched the entirety of the enchanted forest, and now they’re moving past the border of it. If Felix did happen to be dragged somewhere beyond the border, then he might as well be dead. Changbin comes up beside Seungmin, eyes scanning the trees. “It’s been hours. He’s not in this section of the forest, and our other knights are becoming fatigued. Even a break would be alright. We need to circle back before nightfall—”

“No,”

Seungmin catches up, matching Hyunjin’s pace. “You’ll collapse at this rate.”

“I’ll find him.” The words are broken at the edges. Tired. “Even if I have to tear this entire forest apart.”

Behind them, another monster’s body twitches once before going still, its blood hissing in the snow like acid. Seungmin exchanges a glance with Changbin—equal parts concern and helplessness—before continuing forward, blades ready, following Hyunjin deeper into the forest. An omega prince from the sunshine kingdom, Felix, whose title demands the most attention and care—has been missing for almost a week now, and has been missing for nearly hours before anyone noticed his absence. This is an event never heard of in the history of aristocrats, so, who’s to blame?

Who deserves punishment?

Jeongin and Irene? For making his situation worse and tempting him to leave?

The attendees and maids for not paying enough attention to him?

Or, perhaps, his parents and Yeji for not doing enough to assure him in his absence?

The temple for letting someone slip in and frame him?

If not all of them, then maybe—it’s him.

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches. It had never occurred to him that the castle’s staff, so loyal to the crown, might harbor cruelty deep enough to push Felix away. Not until it was too late. On the night of his birthday banquet, he thought dismissing Calcifer was enough. He thought learning of the betrayal then meant he’d acted in time. He was wrong, however, and he should’ve seen it from the start. Nevertheless, he won’t give up on Felix. If there’s a possibility he’s still out there, then he will search for him. They have to—

“Hyunjin!” Jisung’s voice cuts through the trees, urgent. “Over here!”

He turns immediately, boots crunching over snow and brittle leaves as he stalks toward the sound. When he arrives, he finds Jisung standing over a duo of trembling men—grimy, cloaked in patched fur, and clearly not from the kingdom. One clutches a deep wound to his leg while the others raise their hands in surrender. Poachers.

“They were hiding near the ridge,” Jisung mutters. “Didn’t put up a fight once I found them.”

“We didn’t come for trouble!” One of the poachers cries, hands shaking. “We swear, we were just tracking a monster for loot. But—but something found us first!”

Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “Go on.”

Another man steps forward, teeth chattering. “Please believe us! We saw it with our own two eyes! A witch—a witch with blonde hair. She was surrounded by demonic monsters… fairies… and—and the Protector of the forest! That stupid beast attacked me!”

“A woman?”

The first poacher nods eagerly. “Yes—yes, she—”

A hard knock lands on the back of his head. “No. It wasn’t a girl—she wasn’t wearing a dress!” The second poacher barks.

“Not all women wear dresses nowadays!” The first snaps back, rubbing his skull. “With that long hair, you’re a fool for thinking it was a man—!”

“Look at the man before you! He has long hair too—“

“Silence.” Hyunjin’s hand darts out, grabbing one of them by the collar and yanking him upright, their faces inches apart. “Stop speaking over each other. Explain their appearance. Slowly.” His voice is calm, but dangerous. “Did they have freckles? Tan skin? Soft eyes? Neck-length hair? A corset?”

The poacher gulps audibly, eyes darting. “W-we couldn’t s-see them that well,” He stammers. “All we know is…they had blonde hair and were surrounded by monsters.”

Disappointment ripples across Hyun-Jin’s face for a heartbeat before the mask of control returns. “Then at least give me the location,” He says, voice low, simmering. “Where did you see them?”

The poachers exchange a glance, hesitant.

“North side of the ridge,” The second one finally answers. “By the blackroot trees…there’s a cave there. Hidden behind the falls.”

Jisung steps closer, placing a hand on HyunJin’s shoulder. “That’s deep into unmarked territory. We’ve never been able to go that far due to the dragons.”

“Well, today’s the day.” Hyunjin’s grip loosens, dropping the poacher to the ground. He turns to walk off, though Chang-bin grabs him before he can. “HyunJin, please try to think straight. That area is strictly closed off because the frost dragon hibernates there. Do you really believe these poachers' words?”

“He…has a point,” Jisung adds. “Even if they were telling the truth, the chances of a blonde 'witch' being Felix is low. It could’ve been a female mage exploring the area, or—“

“I see no harm in going to see. If all you’re going to do is whine, please go ahead and leave. As you’ve said, the knights are tired, so you may return with them.”

“Is the lack of sleep getting to you finally?” Changbin furrows his eyebrows. “Hyun-Jin, as much as I hate to say it, he could be de—-“

Jisung slaps hand over Changbin’s mouth before he can finish, leaning close. “Shut up now before he decides to kill us all. He’s still unstable from using his power. Don’t irritate him more.” He whispers.

Hyunjin doesn’t look back. The only sound that follows is the crunch of snow under his boots as he heads toward the ridge. He’s aware of what’s whispered behind his back; that he’s chasing something dangerous and nearly impossible, but again, he doesn’t care. It’ll all be worth it if he can find Felix alive…and finally apologize.

With a groan, Changbin falls back into step with him. One by one, the others fall in line behind them—most of them, anyway. A handful stay behind, slumping to the snow-packed earth to rest their aching legs. The silence between the remaining knights is thick with exhaustion and worry, their breath fogging in the cold.

Then—

A low, earth-rattling roar cuts through the trees, freezing them all in place.

It echoes like thunder over the canopy, shaking loose dusting snow from the branches above. Birds scatter in a frenzy. Even the wind seems to hush, as if afraid.

No one speaks.

Jisung’s hand instinctively goes to his blade.

Changbin curses under his breath.

Without another word, Hyun-Jin breaks into a sprint toward the sound.

-.-.-

“Are these really all for me?” Felix glances at his hands—full of berries—and back at the monsters before him—smaller versions of Pirichan, maybe family. They all nod, and their fluffy ears twitch in unison, little claws curling in excitement as they crowd around him, making soft chirping sounds. One nudges his knee gently with its nose. Another pats at his ankle like it’s claiming him.

He smiles, touched. “Thank you…”

Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t understand how there is fruit growing in the enchanted forest—let alone this deeper, darker part of it. The branches overhead are heavy with snow. And yet, somehow, the enchanted Forest feels Calmer. Like the forest has accepted him. Or maybe it’s simply changing for him.

Because ever since he came here—with Grimace, Pirichan, the fairies, and Vireya—who has disappeared back to where she came until called again—he hasn’t been alone. They’ve remained at his side, shielding him from the demonic monsters that still roam, the ones that haven’t regained their minds; The ones that come drawn to him, bloodthirsty, unable to resist the pull of his power. But they never get close, not with Grimace’s dark presence warding the grounds. Occasionally, other monsters would come to them too, cautious at first, then wide-eyed with wonder. They’d stare at him as if unsure what they’re seeing, like he’s some sort of forgotten relic or blooming miracle. Felix, in turn, would only look back and wonder the same.

Eventually, Snowflakes began to pass the trees above—light at first, but swiftly turning into a flurry of white. “A blizzard,” One of the fairies mutters, eyes narrowing at the darkening sky. The monsters huddle closer to Felix instinctively, their bodies pressing around his legs for warmth. The clouds are heavy, graying by the second, and the temperature drops with a sudden shiver in the air. “We should head back to the cave,” He says, turning toward the others. “It’s getting too cold.”

They don’t argue. Grimace is the first to step forward, leading the way with his usual silence, and the rest follow. Pirichan curls his tail gently around Felix’s wrist as they walk, and Felix offers a small smile in return—one that fades as quickly as it came. His mind is elsewhere. Back in the castle, in the warmth of marble halls and glittering chandeliers. What were they thinking of him now? Had his absence stirred a ripple? Or had the royal court already begun preparing to quietly erase him? Maybe the nobles whispered he ran away out of shame. Maybe they were relieved.

After all, he vanished without a word. No explanation. No goodbye. Of course he should’ve told someone. But he hadn’t expected Grimace to appear that morning and whisk him into the forest like a shadow. It happened too quickly, and truthfully—deep down—he hadn’t fought it.

Because a part of him wanted to leave.

Would they even come looking for him? Would he?

Felix’s steps slow slightly at the thought of Hyunjin. That unreadable stare. That soft voice. That aching concern that made Felix want to reveal everything, even when he knew he shouldn’t. Would Hyunjin care as much as he seemed to before? He wants to believe it. Wants to believe Hyunjin is out there—furious, desperate, scouring the kingdom in search of him. That maybe—just maybe—he mattered to him more than duty, more than convenience. But hope is a pointy-edged thing. It’s betrayed him before. And yet, something in him clings to it anyway. If there’s anyone in that palace who might still be searching—who might feel what Felix feels even now—it has to be him.

Still…even if that’s true, Felix isn’t ready to face him. Not yet. He’s scared. Truly scared of what it’ll mean to stand before him again. Of what might be said. Or worse—what might not be. He just needs a little more time. Time to gather his thoughts. Time to prepare for Jiho, for the confrontation that still looms in the back of his mind.

Felix has always believed that running away was out of the question. Not once—even in the worst of times—had he truly considered it. No matter how cruel the whispers, how cold the rooms became… he stayed. Because what else could he do? If he even tried to step outside the castle walls, his mother would find him—her scolding cruel and unforgiving. His sister would follow with soft-spoken warnings, concern that never quite felt like love. His father would say nothing at all. And Jiho…Jiho would always come for him. No matter how far he ran, no matter where he hid, Jiho would find him. Smiling in the presence of others as he leads him in, gentle at first, then not behind doors.

So no—running away was never an option. And this time, he hadn’t meant to at all. And even now, as snow clings to his lashes and the blizzard thickens around him, he still doesn’t know if it was the right thing to do. Therefore—

The thought barely finishes when the ground beneath Felix’s feet gives way with a sudden crack. He doesn’t even have time to scream—just a startled gasp—before he’s falling. Falling. Falling. The fall isn’t long, but it is fast, and he braces for impact—Only to land on something soft. Warm. A thick thump beneath him, followed by a squeaky grunt. He looks down to see a squished Pirichan beneath him, the creature’s eyes in mild shock. Pirichan must’ve fallen before him and Felix happened to follow suit without realizing.

He quickly rolls off of him, and Pirichan rises to grab his cheeks, checking if he’s hurt. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” Felix mumbles, brushing off snow as he sits up, trying to catch his breath. Above, Grimace’s silhouette leans over the edge of the hole, unmoving but unmistakably anxious. His tail lashes behind him, twitching. “I’m alright!” Felix calls up, waving a little.

Grimace doesn’t move, but the way his ears flatten back tells Felix he’s definitely not happy about it. Felix glances around the underground space—dimly lit by the hole above, walls slick with frost and vines. “We should try to find a way out, come on.” Felix rests a hand on Pirichan’s warm fur, attempting to push forward, but Pirichan doesn’t move. Instead, the monster’s eyes have gone wide—entranced—pupils dilated as he crawls a few steps forward. His nose twitches, drawn by something glimmering just beyond a cluster of rocks. Felix follows his gaze and pauses.

Gems.

Millions of them—scattered across the cave floor like spilled treasure. Some no bigger than his thumbnail, others the size of his hand, all glittering with unnatural brightness beneath the frost-filtered light from above. They shimmer in colors he can’t even name—greenish-violets, blood-reds, silvers. Felix takes a hesitant step closer. The sight tugs at his senses, dreamy and strange, like he’s not entirely in his body anymore. Just ahead, nestled half-buried in the dirt, is a gem unlike the others. A diamond—icy blue and nearly the size of his palm, gleaming with a light that seems to pulse. It’s beautiful, mesmerizing, and he crouches to reach out.

The moment Felix’s fingers graze the diamond’s surface, however, the ground shudders beneath him, and the walls begin to shake. A deep, distant rumble echoes through the cave, as if something massive has just awoken far below. Dust rains from the ceiling. Cracks splinter through the frozen walls like veins, webbing outward from the place where the gem sits. Felix stumbles back, heart leaping into his throat. The diamond no longer lies still—it’s vibrating violently now, humming like it’s alive.

A thunderous roar tears through the cavern—ancient, furious, and deep enough to rattle the bones in Felix’s chest. Cold rushes out in a wave, sharp as knives, and the temperature plummets. Frost spiderwebs along the cave walls in an instant, and a monstrous shadow rises from the cracked earth. A dragon. Its body is massive—easily stretching the length of a castle hall—with scales like glacial armor, translucent and jagged, refracting the light into shards across the cavern. Its breath curls from its nostrils in slow, swirling clouds of white vapor. Icy spines trail down its back, and its eyes…its eyes are a hollow, glowing blue. Ancient. Aware.

It lifts its head and roars again, the sound shaking snow loose from above. Felix stumbles back into Pirichan, who hisses and presses close, trembling. Above them, Grimace’s frantic howls echo faintly from the opening of the cave. The dragon’s head turns slowly, eyes locking onto Felix like a predator sighting prey. Before he can run, a sudden gust of frigid wind knocks him off his feet. Massive claws close around his body—not squeezing, but firm—lifting him high into the air.

“W-Wait—wait!” Felix cries out, heart hammering against his ribs. “Let me go—please, I didn’t mean to—!”

To his surprise, the dragon obeys right away.

It lowers him back to the ground with eerie gentleness, claws uncurling until he’s standing on trembling legs. Felix stumbles backward, gasping, and makes a break for Pirichan—but the dragon’s enormous tail slams down between them, shaking the earth and forcing him to stop. Pirichan hisses furiously on the other side. Felix turns back around just as the dragon lowers its massive head again. He flinches, certain it’s about to devour him—its jaws part slowly, wide enough to fit a whale whole. But instead of fire or teeth—

Jewels fall from its mouth. A cascade of shimmering stones—sapphires, rubies, opals, and glittering chunks of blue crystal—spills onto the ground in front of him like a silent offering. Felix stares, stunned, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. The dragon lowers its head until its muzzle brushes the cavern floor, eyes still fixed on him. It wasn’t going to eat him. It was gifting him.

Felix doesn’t move, too stunned by the shimmering rocks at his feet and the dragon’s strange, reverent gaze. He opens his mouth to speak—though what he’d even say to a dragon, he doesn’t know—but before any sound can form, Pirichan takes the opportunity. With a low chirp and a burst of strength, the beast darts forward, teeth gently latching onto the back of Felix’s cloak. “Piri—?!” Felix yelps as he’s hoisted off the ground.

With a flex of his powerful legs, he leaps toward the steep wall of the cave, claws finding hold where none should exist. A roar splits the air—thunderous, angry—upon noticing his escape. The frost dragon lurches forward, tail sweeping aside glittering gems as it tries to give chase, massive wings spreading with a gust of icy wind. Felix dares a glance back. The dragon is climbing—slowly, but determined, claws scraping stone and ice as it lets out another earth-shaking bellow. But Pirichan is faster.

With one final bound, he clears the lip of the pit and crashes back onto snowy ground, skidding before steadying himself. Below, the dragon snarls, too large and too slow to follow quickly enough. They run until the cave is a distant shadow behind them, swallowed by snow and the blizzard outside. Once they slow—lungs burning, muscles aching—Felix rests his hands on his thighs, chest rising and falling rapidly as his heart still thunders from the escape. They’re safe—for now—but he knows it won’t last. A creature that size, with wings that could tear through the sky, would catch up if they linger too long. They’d only—

“There you are.”

Felix’s eyes fly open, and he turns his head, slowly.

Standing not far off—sword sheathed at his hip, cloak snapping behind him in the wind—Hyunjin stares at him with a gaze Felix doesn’t understand. “You…” The alpha breathes, voice barely carried over the wind. He takes a step forward—but in an instant, Grimace and Pirichan leap in front of Felix, their bodies tense, growls rippling through the air. Hyunjin’s eyes widen in shock, but it only lasts a second. His hand flies to his sword and he draws it upon seeing them as a threat. Grimace bares his teeth, tail bristling. Pirichan snarls, claws sinking into the snow.

“No!” Felix shouts, stumbling to his feet fearful as he knows what Hyunjin is capable of—how easily he could kill them, just like the demonic monsters back at the temple. “Stop—wait, don’t!”

But no one listens.

Hyunjin’s blade flashes upward just as Grimace lunges—and in that instant, Felix bolts. He tears through the snow, heart hammering, vision blurred by wind and panic. Behind him, the crackle of power and the sound of snarling and clashing energy echoes in his ears. But none of it matters—All he knows is that he has to run. For their sake. For his own.

“FELIX!” Hyunjin’s voice breaks through the storm, sharp with desperation. “Fuck, just wait. Please! I can’t lose you again—” Hyunjin’s voice cracks mid-sentence, raw and torn from his throat as he runs after him.

But he doesn’t stop, and maybe he should’ve, because minutes later, a branch, hidden beneath the snow, catches his foot and he falls hard, skidding onto his hands and knees. Pain blooms in his leg—his knee scraping against jagged ice sticking from her ground. Heavy footsteps approach behind him, and he whips around.

“Stop running,” Hyunjin pants, sword lowered now, his voice trembling. “Please, just let me—“

Felix meets his eyes, and for the first time, Hyunjin sees him clearly. Tears streak his cheeks—hot against the cold—and his breath catches with every ragged inhale. “I can’t,” Felix whispers, voice cracking. “I can’t. Don’t kill them, please—I’m sorry. I’m sorry I—I just need a little more time. I’m—“

Hyunjin stops in his tracks. The weight of Felix’s words sinks into his chest like lead. He’s never seen him like this—truly distraught, trembling, overwhelmed. In every encounter they’ve had, Felix wore a calm mask. At most, a soft smile. Even when he lied, even when he broke down—it was never like this—distraught, desperate, raw. Even in the moments he uttered those poor lies of his, broke down before him—he’s never looked like this. Would things turn out differently if he asked Felix what he’d gone through in the past? Now? If—

Before he can speak—before he can step forward—a deafening roar shatters the air. The frost dragon crashes down behind them, snow exploding around its enormous form. Hyunjin barely has time to react before it swoops in and seizes Felix in its massive claws. “Felix!” Hyunjin shouts, surging forward—but the dragon is already lifting off the ground.

Felix may want more time, he tells himself.

He may not be ready.

And yet, he isn’t ready to lose him again. He won’t, and so without hesitation, he breaks into a sprint, chasing after the dragon as it vanishes into the blizzard.

Chapter Text

Felix exhales shakily, breath clouding in the cold air.

He blinks slowly at the jagged walls around him—crystalline, glittering faintly from light filtering through ice. Another cave. Another near-death experience. And somehow…he’s still alive. He had expected it to end—wanted it to be, almost. When the dragon scooped him up, claws curling tight around his body, he’d been certain his ribs would snap, that the creature would hurl him into a chasm or tear him apart midair (and that death, somehow, would be easier to go through than the upcoming future.) But instead, it dropped him—almost gently—into this frozen hollow, tucked somewhere far deeper than the last. Why? He wonders. Why didn’t it kill him after he angered it? And more than that…what does it want from him now?

The dragon lets out a low, rumbling sound—something between a purr and a hum—as it lowers its massive head beside him. Its icy breath fogs the air, curling around Felix’s already shivering form. Slowly, cautiously, it nudges its snout against his side, the gesture surprisingly soft for something so enormous. Felix flinches at first, but the dragon doesn’t press to do it again. It simply remains there, exhaling in slow, rhythmic waves as if trying to soothe him.

But there was no comfort to be had—not with his clothes starting to dampen against his skin—letting in a cold he thought hadn’t bothered him, not with the sting of tears still fresh in his eyes, not when Hyunjin’s voice still echoes in his ears, cracked and desperate. Felix lets out a shaky exhale. He eventually shifts, trying to rise to his feet, but a sharp jolt of pain shoots up his leg in retaliation. He hisses through his teeth and falters, dropping back down and clutching at his knee. Blood stains his torn trousers, the cut raw beneath the fabric.

The dragon tilts its head, watching him with eerie attentiveness. Then, as if offering consolation, it opens its jaw to let another cascade of glittering gems spill from its mouth.

“I appreciate the effort,” Felix murmurs, “but I don’t think jewels can fix this.”

“Khhhgrrrr…” The sound rumbles low in the dragon’s throat, not a growl but something gentler—a crooning, croaking sound of concern. Before it can try to nudge against him again, a voice breaks through the stillness—

“You thought you could steal him and hide forever?”

Felix’s head whips toward the cave's entrance.

Hyunjin.

Snow clings to his shoulders, melting slowly against his cloak, the wind lashing it violently behind him like a torn banner. The storm roars outside, but it’s nothing compared to the fury in his eyes. Felix doesn’t know how he caught up so quickly—how he pushed through the storm, the cliffs, the distance the dragon had covered—but he’s here, eyes blazing and sword already half-drawn.

“Hyunjin, wait—!” Felix scrambles to his feet, a sharp gasp tearing from his throat as pain sears through his knee. But it’s too late. The dragon shifts behind him, sensing Hyunjin as a threat—just like Pirichan and Grimace had. Its wings flare wide in a sweeping, defensive arc, a low, warning hum rumbling in its throat.

Hyunjin doesn’t slow. He steps forward with purpose, sword raised, eyes locked on the beast—and without thinking, Felix reacts. His hand closes around the nearest gem, and he hurls it across the cave with trembling hands.

It strikes Hyunjin squarely in the temple.

The alpha staggers, hand flying to his head with a groan, nearly toppling as he glares up through a curtain of wind-blown hair. The rage in his eyes falters. Just slightly. But enough.

Felix’s heart lurches. “I-I didn’t mean to throw it that hard,” He stammers, voice breaking. “I swear. I just…I don’t want you two to fight.”

There’s a long silence that passes before Hyunjin lets out a slow, controlled breath—and slams his sword down into the ground, the metal ringing out in vibrations. He sways with the movement, visibly lightheaded, jaw clenched tight. Still, his eyes don’t leave Felix. And what he sees makes something inside him twist painfully.

He sees that Felix is trembling, arms half-lifted in a useless shield. His clothes are torn, and blood stains his knee—fresh, vivid red against frostbitten skin—and his lip is split, swollen, either from the fight he had or if he’s bitten it in fear or pain. His hair is a mess, plastered to his face and neck from snow and sweat alike, and his eyes—his eyes are wide and shining, not from defiance, but raw, undiluted fear. He looks defeated. No royal composure. No mask. Just a boy—lost, hurt, cornered.

And something in Hyunjin breaks.

Hyunjin steps forward once again, deliberately, and Felix feels his stomach drop. “Wait…please stay there.” His voice is smaller now. He backs up a little, shoes scraping over ice and nearly slipping over a fallen gem. “L-Let me explain. I…I swear I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. A monster came and brought me to the forest—and I met some nice ones. They aren’t all bad, and it seems they understand me. They’re—” He pauses, the words crumbling on his tongue as they sound ridiculous even to him. Monsters helped him? He speaks to them? What sane person would believe that? And even if Hyunjin did, what difference would it make? Would it fix any of this?

Felix lowers his head, his voice growing desperate and thin. “I had nothing to do with poisoning Princess Irene. Please…p-please believe me. I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I’m not that kind of person. I…I didn’t even mean to run away! The monsters helped me and—and—” He wipes at his face with the back of his sleeve, only smearing dirt and snow across his cheek. His hands are shaking. “Please don’t send me back to my kingdom. Please. I can’t go back again. I—I can’t. If you need to hit me, punish me, yell—I don’t care. Just don’t make me go back. I’ll do better. I’ll be better, just—just don’t send me back. Please…”

Hyun-Jin takes another step, and to his surprise, Felix flinches. It’s barely a motion, just the smallest jolt of his shoulders, but it’s unmistakable. Like he’s bracing for pain, for punishment. Like he expects him to strike him. The sting behind his eyes is immediate upon that realization, and without thinking—without giving himself time to figure out how to approach Felix while he’s like this—he closes the distance in two strides and pulls Felix into his arms. It isn’t calculated or careful. It’s instinct. Urgent. Desperate in its gentleness.

Felix stiffens at first—caught off guard, uncertain. Then he breaks. He melts into the embrace with a ragged sob, clutching at Hyunjin’s coat like it’s the only thing tethering him to earth. His knees nearly buckle, but Hyunjin holds him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other pressing him in close. “I would never raise a hand against you.” Hyun-jin starts. “I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through before coming here, but just know that won’t happen here. I’m sorry I’ve allowed others to make you feel unsafe and outcast like this. And I’m sorry for how my actions came across recently. I’m so sorry.” His thumb moves carefully across Felix’s back, steady and slow, as if trying to smooth out every tremor in his body. He can almost feel Felix’s heart hammering through his chest with how close they are—wild, frantic, like a caged bird still unsure if the hand holding it means harm or safety.

He holds him tighter anyway, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. Felix gives a soft, broken sound at that, something between a whimper and a gasp, and curls his fingers tighter on Hyunjin. He hadn’t realized how cold he was until Hyunjin wrapped around him like this—until the heat of him seeped in. He feels like the last flicker of warmth in a world gone numb. And it’s overwhelming.

“Don’t ever think I’d force you to leave when you did nothing wrong. I should’ve been more attentive to the things happening around you—protect you like I should’ve. I…I also should be the one begging you not to leave.”

Felix tries to respond to that, but all that escapes is another helpless sniffle. He slumps forward, and Hyunjin catches him again, arms tightening, holding him like he never intends to let go. The silence that follows isn’t empty—it’s full. Full of unsaid words, of quiet understanding, of a safety Felix had forgotten could exist. When he finally lifts his head, his lashes are wet with tears, his bottom lip still trembling. But there’s something new in his eyes now. Not fear. Not shame. A flicker of belief—fragile, but real.

“I want you exactly as you are,” Hyunjin continues softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from Felix’s cheek. “You don’t need to be better, or change, or prove anything to anyone. Not to me or to them. You’re enough, just like this,”

Felix lets the words settle in the space between them, lets them sink deep into the hollow parts of his chest where doubt once lived. Then he nods, before whispering, “Thank you. Thank you so much…”

Hyunjin wouldn’t leave his side after he had found Felix.

Not for a moment.

No matter how exhausted he was—how his body trembled from strain, how the headache from the gem still pounded behind his temple—he refused to step away. Even when Seungmin quietly urged him to rest, when Changbin offered to take over, when the palace physicians said they’d tend to Felix with utmost care…he still wouldn’t. Back at the castle, he had finally been able to explain everything to him—about what happened at the temple, how miscommunication and panic twisted his judgment. He apologized, not once, but again and again until Felix had to stop him. A little later, Felix also found out what happened with Jeong-in.

As for Irene, she had immediately gone to speak with the princess herself. No guards. No council. Just two women behind closed doors. Whatever passed between them wasn’t made public, but Felix overheard whispers later—about Irene being moved to a different wing, about her silence when questioned, about how she hadn’t once asked for Jeongin since everything unfolded. There was still much to resolve—things that couldn’t be mended in a single day—but for now, Felix was sure his position wasn’t in jeopardy after the many reassurances and concerns he received upon his return.

It was only when Felix offered—“Stay with me. Just for tonight.”—that Hyun-Jin did finally try to rest. The request came rather urgently, especially after finding out from Ji-sung that Hyun-Jin hadn’t slept or eaten much since his absence. So now, he was here—half-draped over Felix on the bed after a hot shower, slippers discarded hastily at the edge, arms curled protectively around the boy like letting go might make him disappear again. Felix could feel every slow breath he took, the tension finally easing from his body after days of no sleep, no food, just sheer desperation to bring him home. And even though Felix still felt an impending ache of fear curled up in his ribs—he could breathe again.

Just as he thought Hyunjin had finally drifted off, a faint mumble tickled his ear. “…And…mmh…the monsters,” Hyunjin murmured sleepily. “I forgot to ask. Can you actually understand them…?”

Felix hesitated, lips parting slightly. The question was drowsy, dreamlike, but sincere. He tilted his head just enough to glance down at the alpha’s sleep-flushed face. Even half-asleep, he looked impossibly gentle like this. So different from the furious storm that had once chased him across a frozen field. “…Yeah,” Felix whispered, barely audible. “I can. It’s not like…actual words sometimes. Not always. But I know what they’re saying, or trying to say. They called me a child of the sun, and I seem to be the only one able to do so.”

“I see,” There was a pause. Hyunjin didn’t respond immediately—but the slight brush of his thumb against Felix’s side told him he was still listening, even if barely awake. “Then, I'll make sure no one else knows about that. If you truly have the power to speak with monsters, then you need to be aware and careful uttering that title. I suggest not visiting your friends for a while. Even though they seem like the good type of demonic monsters, we don’t know if others have different motives.”

“Right, of course,” Felix agreed before letting out a breath of relief. He then quietly asked, “What about your powers?” His voice was soft but edged with curiosity, something long buried finally surfacing. “Minho told me you were born with cursed strength…but that doesn’t explain what happened at the temple. You didn’t even touch them. The monsters just…disintegrated. Like they were being torn apart from the inside.”

Hyunjin’s lashes fluttered at the question. For a long moment, he didn’t answer, and Felix almost thought he’d fallen back asleep entirely—until Hyunjin whispered. “It’s energy. If I focus…I can pull it from them. A demonic monster’s core is cursed, after all, so it’s not just strength—hence why life is ripped out of them.”

Felix stares at him, stunned for a beat. “And that doesn’t…hurt you?”

Hyunjin hums, faintly, one arm tightening around Felix’s waist. “It does. Just not in the way you’d think. I can only contain so much, and if I push my limits I’d start to be affected by that energy and lose my mind.”

“Has that ever happened before,”

Hyunjin is quiet for a beat. Then, in that same low, sleepy voice, he murmurs, “Not yet.”

Yet.

The word hangs heavy between them, ominous and final. And it’s the way Hyunjin says it—like he knows it’s inevitable—that makes Felix’s stomach twist. But before Felix can press him further, ask how he can help or if there’s another option, Hyunjin shifts, turning slightly so he can see his face more clearly in the faint morning light. His expression doesn’t carry fear—but guarded resolve. “I still have a gap left before then, and I can assure you it’s not dangerous in the way you're thinking.” He says as if the subject is already closed. “But that doesn’t matter right now. Your family will be visiting next week. And I need to know…” Hyunjin continues gently. “Is there anyone among them who…caused you your scars?”

Felix freezes completely. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. The words rattle around in his head—caused you scars—and something deep in his chest stirs painfully. His mouth opens, but no sound comes out at first. Then—barely audible— “Why do you ask that?” It’s a stupid question, he knows, but he asked anyway.

Hyunjin brushes a thumb along the back of Felix’s hand, anchoring him. “Because I’ll be there. And I want to know who I’ll be keeping you away from—if not all of your relatives for letting that happen to you blindly.”

Felix swallows hard. His gaze drops to their intertwined hands, and for a long moment, he says nothing. Hyunjin waits, silent, patient—though Felix can feel the tension in his body, the quiet fury restrained just beneath the surface. It’s not directed at him, but at whatever memory has made him shrink like this. Eventually, Felix exhales. “Yes. There are some people I don’t want to see,” He says, voice thin. “Not everyone. But…some of them never liked me. Never saw me as part of the family. They didn’t hurt me—at least not in a way that’s obvious.” He says, not putting direct names. He can’t, when some part of him still isn’t ready to say it aloud—to give voice to things that feel too ugly, too tangled, too dangerous—in fear of the consequences, of who could be watching him this second.

He doesn’t mention the cousin who used to smile too wide when the others turned away, he doesn’t bring up the sickly sweet voice his mother uses to feign care, the cold eyes of his father, or the threats from his other family members that occasionally come by.

Nonetheless, Hyunjin seemed to understand anyway.

-.-.-.-

Jiho sat hunched at his desk, a single candle burning low beside a stack of faded tomes and brittle scrolls. The room was steeped in shadow, the stone walls of the mage tower holding onto the cold like a second skin. Every surface seemed layered in dust and dim enchantments—sigils stitched into the floor with chalk that still shimmered faintly, ink stains dried into maps and margins. The air smelled of old parchment, ash, and something else—faintly metallic, like blood drawn too long ago to name.

Wind creaked against the stained-glass window as a sudden burst of heat cut through the room. With a cry like a burning string, a brilliant flame-winged phoenix swooped through the narrow opening, its golden feathers shedding embers with every beat. It circled once, then settled on the perch by Jiho’s shoulder, extending one talon.

A tightly folded letter, sealed with a blood-red crest, clung to its foot.

Jiho broke the seal without hesitation, scanning the contents in one long, tense motion. His expression darkened, jaw tightening. Before he even finished reading, he reached for the open flame beside him and tossed the letter in. It curled into black ash instantly.

From the hearth—where the fire hissed as if reacting to the letter’s presence—shadows began to lengthen unnaturally, pooling upward like ink in water. A form emerged slowly from the coals, taking shape until it stood at full height beside the mantle: his assistant.

She was tall and impossibly slender, dressed in robes darker than the void behind closed eyes. Her face was veiled in flickering smoke, features never staying still long enough to define, but her voice—low, cold, slightly amused—remained unchanged.

“You seem very concerned, young lord,” she said, stepping out of the flame fully. Her bare feet made no sound against the stone. “What is it now?”

Jiho’s eyes didn’t leave the fire. “It’s been reported that our dear prince has caused trouble that wasn’t planned. He ran off.”

“But he returned safely, no?” the shadow-woman mused, gliding over to the window where the phoenix now perched, quietly preening its flaming wings. “You should’ve expected him to do so when you ordered Yoon to disrupt the Artemia temple. Prince Lee is surely under some stress, though—who would’ve thought an obedient omega like him would react that way? It must have been quite shocking… especially to your brother-in-law. Prince Hyunjin—”

“Don’t utter his name.”

The command was sharp, final.

She smiled thinly, a crack of smoke curling at the edge of her cheek. “Yes, of course.”

Jiho exhaled slowly through his nose, fingers pressing hard into his temple. His other hand balled into a fist on the map, warping the lines drawn across regions and borders. The flames flickered in response to his mood—no spell, just temper.

The fact that his aunt—so calculatingly clever when it served her—had forged a marriage alliance with the Artemia royal family was headache enough. But to take it a step further, to offer Felix—the weak, soft-spoken, breakable Felix—as a suitor to them? To him?

Jiho’s throat burned.

They handed him over like a gift. A peace offering.

A shared bloodline used for diplomacy.

And now, Artemia had taken him—accepted him. Prince Hyunjin had found Felix in the wilds and brought him back. Alive. Unbroken. He probably held him, sheltered him, wiped away his tears with soft words and gentle hands.

Jiho’s nails dug into his palm. That didn’t make sense. Felix was never supposed to matter this much. He wasn’t supposed to become important enough for Hyunjin to look at, let alone touch.

And yet, he had touched him.

Oh, how Jiho wished he could take that hand—the same hand Hyunjin had no doubt used to cradle Felix’s face—and shatter it. Tear through bone and tendon until it could never reach for him again.

He didn’t realize how still the room had gone until his assistant spoke again, voice quiet but curious. “Is it jealousy…or rage?”

“Irritation,” Jiho said flatly, jaw tight. “It seems that kingdom is making him act out in ways he never would have here. He needs a reminder of our lessons.”

The assistant hummed, circling the room slowly, her hands clasped behind her back. “Yes… yes, but what about his powers? Do you think he’s finally realized?”

She stopped near the hearth, where faint runes glowed in the embers.

“Yoon told me that when he was at the temple, the prince’s spiritual energy had surged—higher than it was when he left our kingdom. If this continues, we have no other option but to take him. Before Artemia begins molding his power for their benefit.”

Jiho’s hand clenched tighter around the back of his chair. The shadows in the room coiled closer in response to his silence as if waiting for his judgment.

“I won’t allow him to be locked away within the mage's tower,” He muttered, venom laced between each syllable. “He isn’t a tool for safekeeping. Not for the others.”

His assistant raised a brow. “And yet, that would be the best course of action if you’re so irritated over him being in Artemia now. He’d be contained and unreachable by anyone and everyone.” Her voice was sweetly coaxing, but beneath it was steel. “Unless…by the looks of it, you’d prefer to bring him back another way.”

Jiho turned to stare into the fire again. Felix—his soft voice, his uncanny affinity for spirits, that stubborn gaze he only wore when no one thought he was looking. “Yes...” His tone dropped, quieter now. “He won’t remain there long, after all. If he doesn’t remember who he belongs to, I’ll simply have to remind him. Though…there are still a few days before I see him in person, would you like to pay your respects in my place until then?

The assistant bowed slightly, her eyes glinting. “Of course, young lord.”

-.-.

Breakfast the next day in the Artevmia castle resumes as expected. Despite the warmth of the morning light and the friendly atmosphere, Felix sat a little straighter than usual, hands folded tightly in his lap. Though no one said it outright, he could feel the subtle shift in the air—curiosity, concern, maybe even guilt. After disappearing for several days and being found in such a disheveled state, Felix expected at least a few cold stares or probing questions. But they never come.

Instead, everything moves forward as if nothing happened. The family discusses upcoming events—Yeji’s tour of the outer provinces, Lord Hwang’s royal meeting with emissaries—and whenever Felix tries to speak, he finds himself apologizing more than necessary. For worrying them. For causing trouble. For not being careful.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for—”

A hand rests gently on his thigh under the table. Felix startles just slightly and turns, only to find Hyunjin’s gaze already on him—calm, steady, and quietly firm.

“Please don’t apologize, Felix,” Yeji speaks up, her voice soft but resolute. “If anyone should be sorry, it’s me—for letting Irene treat you like that. I never knew she’d become so hysteric after getting poisoned. It must’ve traumatized her, but… still, that’s no excuse.”

Felix’s lips part to respond, but Hyunjin gives his thigh a gentle squeeze, a silent signal to just listen.

“To give you more breathing room,” Hyunjin continues, “I took it upon myself to choose your new personal maid instead of Irene. Anaiyia’s mother sent someone highly recommended. She’s rather fond of you for looking after the children when she isn’t around—Jennie?”

At her name, a maid who’s been quietly standing off to the side steps forward. She wears a sleek, tailored uniform bearing the Artevmian crest on her shoulder, and there’s a softness to her demeanor that makes her stand out. Her hair is pinned back perfectly, posture respectful—though she carries the look of someone who’s just stepped out of a daydream.

“Yes?” she says, stepping forward.

Felix smiles politely at first, but it grows more genuine as he straightens in his seat. “It’s nice to meet you, Jennie.”

She stares for a beat too long, her eyes widening before her jaw drops slightly in surprise. “It’s lovely to meet you too, Prince Felix. I was so distracted by your beauty that I—” She immediately slaps a hand over her mouth, mortified. “Anyway! I’ll do my best to serve you wholeheartedly!”

Yeji chuckles into her palm, while the Queen looks vaguely amused over the rim of her teacup.

Felix’s ears flush pink. But for once, the embarrassment isn’t laced with fear—it’s… kind of nice. Warm. Real. Maybe even funny.

Jennie, still clearly mortified but wholly earnest, draws in a calming breath and straightens her back. “I hope I’ll be of help to you, Your Highness.”

Felix nods, still smiling despite the warmth flooding his cheeks. “I’m sure you will.”

“You may be busy at the start, but I’m sure you can handle it, Jennie. We intend to host a banquet before our family gets too busy with the hunting tournament coming up, so I need your first task to be getting the prince ready.”

“A banquet? What for?” Felix panics a little as he asks, sitting up straighter in his chair. His hands twitch in his lap, and his eyes flick briefly to Hyunjin before settling on Yeji. “I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to go anywhere after just coming back. There’s still speculation about where I was and… and why. People still think I had something to do with Irene’s poisoning.”

Yeji smiles gently, her expression as warm as her voice. “You, of course. The banquet is to celebrate your return and to reintroduce you properly, not as a rumor, but as someone we’re proud to stand beside. Jennie will help you dress well for the occasion. But please,” she adds, reaching out briefly to touch his hand, “Don’t worry about anything. If a problem occurs, we’ll all be there to support you.”

Felix lowers his gaze, hesitating. “Still…isn’t my reputation already poor? Why would you host a banquet for me of all people?”

“It’s precisely because of that,” Hyunjin says from beside him, his voice quiet but firm. “People believe what they’re told when there’s silence. So we’ll give them something else to talk about. You’re not hiding anymore. You’re not being punished. You’re returning with the full support of the royal family—and I’ll be at your side the entire night.”

Felix swallows. The thought of being the center of attention again makes his stomach twist, but the way Hyunjin says it gives him some hope.

Jennie beams brightly from the side. “I’ll make sure you look flawless, Your Highness.”

—

Felix sits perched at the edge of the velvet-upholstered dressing bench, legs tucked neatly beneath him as Jennie rifles through a collection of outfits. The wardrobe stands open like a shrine of silk and satin, all pristine whites and muted metallics. She lifts one ensemble into view—elegant, flowing, the bodice detailed with embroidery and delicate lace. “What about this one?” She says gently. “It’s laced with ribbons, and the tailoring would suit you perfectly. It’s also backless—“

“No,” He says, the objection leaving him fast, sharper than he intended. His gaze drops, lashes brushing his cheeks as his fingers tighten around the hem of his robe. “Sorry…Not that one. It’s too revealing in the back…and I’d like not to show too much skin.”

Jennie halts immediately, the garment still in hand. “Of course,” She replies after a beat, voice soft. She doesn’t ask why, and he’s grateful for that. The last thing he wants is for anyone else here to know what’s been carved into him, it’s already enough HyunJin knows, and he’s slowly begun getting more comfortable with that fact.

Jennie nods to herself as she sets the first outfit aside. “Then this one,” She offers gently, pulling out a more structured piece—a vision in ivory satin, high-collared with fitted sleeves and cascading ruffles. But when Felix sees the back, it’s technically backless too—but not entirely. The fabric parts only reveal a corseted ribbon design, with rose-gold laces crisscrossed down a sheer panel of lace. It’s enough to be formal while not fully revealing his back. His scars could be hidden in some sections If the ribbons are drawn tight. It’s extravagant—maybe even too extravagant for him—but it feels…safer. More like armor than exposure.

He nods once, slowly. “This one is fine, thank you.”

Jennie smiles warmly. “Perfect!”

And so the dressing begins.

Felix stands quietly in front of the full-length mirror, his arms slightly raised as Jennie moves around him gracefully. Sunlight pours through the high, arched windows of his chamber, filtering softly through sheer curtains and casting shapes across the floor. The air is scented faintly with lavender from the oils she used in his bath, and the faint clink of jewelry from the nearby tray fills the room occasionally. Although he was permitted to dress himself privately without eyes on him, Jennie would still be making the major adjustments.

It’s not the kind of outfit one can manage alone, after all. The laces, the fastenings, the tension of pulling fabric just right—it’s all too complicated for a single pair of hands. Jennie’s fingers are deft but gentle as she starts fastening the white satin laces that run down the bodice. Each tug has Felix feeling the soft tightening of the garment drawing him in—cinching his waist, framing his shoulders, hugging him into the right shape.

The atmosphere is still between them, hushed except for the sound of breath and fabric shifting. At one point, as the laces are drawn tighter on the back, a few scars peek through the sheer panel beneath the ribbon work—faint, pale remnants against otherwise unmarred skin. Jennie’s hands pause for the briefest moment, then resume without comment. No question, no gasp, no change in her tone.

Her silence isn’t awkward or uncertain—it’s understanding. A mutual kind of understanding that makes Felix’s chest ease, even as he keeps his eyes averted. He half-expects her to pretend she hadn’t seen, or worse—offer comfort he didn’t ask for. But she doesn’t. She simply ties the bow, smoothing the lace over with care, and continues on as if nothing at all had been out of place. And in a strange, grounding way, Felix is grateful for it. “Almost finished,” She says softly, adjusting the final edge of the collar before moving to his sleeves. “Hold your arms out—just a little.”

His hair comes next when she finishes the tailoring, and she begins by lightly teasing the roots at the crown, creating subtle volume without overworking the texture. His hair is already styled into loose layers, a feathered cascade that brushes the nape of his neck and curls just slightly around his ears.

The result is something effortless, almost ethereal. Soft waves kiss the sides of his face, longer locks tucked just behind his ears, while the rest flutters around his nape. When she steps back, her gaze lingers for a moment, studying her work before nodding in satisfaction.

“You look lovely, Prince Felix. I just know Prince Hyun-Jin won’t be able to take his eyes off you!”

Felix’s gaze flicks to the mirror again. His cheeks tint, just a little. “Thank you. I really appreciate your help. How can I—“

A sudden knock at the door had them both pausing. Jennie straightens immediately. “One moment,” she says before stepping away. She crosses the floor and slips through the door, leaving it cracked just enough to let in the sound of hushed voices and the occasional soft laugh. Felix doesn’t pay it much mind—his eyes have gone glassy, caught in the stillness of the mirror. He watches his reflection absently, fingertips ghosting over the ruffles at his cuffs. The nerves have returned, not in full force, but in a slow, simmering trickle down his spine. He looks beautiful—too much so, maybe—and the fact sends him spiraling into thoughts he can’t fully hold onto. One being, Jiho always described, dolled up. Not as a compliment, never that. It was a word laced with mockery, a warning, a sneer.

He's so distracted he doesn’t even hear the door close again. It’s not until he feels a tap on his shoulder that he blinks back to reality. “Jennie, could you get me a paper and pen? I think I should write a—” He cuts himself off as the mirror shows him something—someone—that wasn’t there before. Felix’s breath hitches as he sees Hyunjin standing just behind him, close enough that Felix can feel the warmth radiating from his presence, even without contact.

His reflection in the mirror is composed, but his eyes are anything but—slowly dragging down Felix’s form with the quiet, heavy reverence of a man trying not to lose composure too fast. Felix doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. Hyunjin’s voice comes low, almost like a murmur meant for no one else. “…You look like a sin I haven’t earned the right to touch.”

“Ah,” Felix’s fingers flex slightly at his sides, digging into the soft folds of his trousers. Their eyes meet in the mirror, and he forgets how to form words. Hyunjin’s gaze continues to drag over him slowly, drinking him in like something sacred. The way the fitted bodice shapes to Felix’s waist, the delicate sheen of the corset’s laces cinching just enough to leave a breathless curve. The sheer flare of the sleeves. The pale, shimmering fabric catching light like moonlit water. But it’s the back that stops the alpha cold—lace and ribbon framing the soft lines of Felix’s shoulder blades, veiling the pale scars Jennie had so tenderly ignored. His throat bobs once. “I wasn’t sure,” Felix starts eventually, voice hesitant. “If I should’ve worn it because of my injuries.”

“Well, I’m happy you chose to.” Hyunjin steps closer, one hand brushing, not quite touching, the small of his back. Hyunjin leans in a fraction closer, breath grazing the back of his neck. “If anything, it’s cruel,” He adds, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smile.

“Cruel?” Felix ponders and turns to look at him directly—Only to lose whatever breath he had left. Hyunjin stands dressed in a white silk suit that fits like it was made for him and no one else. Silver embroidery coils across the fabric in sweeping strokes, and chains glint between the lapels and shoulders, catching the light. Over his broad shoulders rests a striking pelisse coat, pure white with subtle metallic threading woven into the seams. Draped over it, a long shoulder cape sits fastened in place by a clasp shaped like the Artevmian crest. He looks imperial. Ethereal. Commanding.

Felix’s breath hitches again, but for an entirely different reason. Hyunjin raises a brow, clearly enjoying the reaction. “I suppose it’s mutual, then,” He murmurs, stepping closer, voice lower now. “You’re staring.”

“I’m—” Felix swallows, trying to will away the heat rising to his ears. “I only—”

“You were.” Hyunjin leans in more, just enough that his voice dips right into Felix’s space, intimate and slow. “And if you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to the banquet at all.”

Felix goes still, mouth parted—but no words come when he knows the implication of what he said. Hyunjin doesn’t press for them. Instead, he brushes a finger beneath Felix’s jaw, gaze never once straying from his eyes. “You look enamoring,” He says. “Now come. Let me escort you properly.”

Chapter Text

The soft chime of the grand clock tower echoes down the corridors of Artevmia Castle, signaling the official start of the party. The towering double doors of the great hall remain shut—for now—but already, murmurs buzz behind them eagerly. Hyunjin offers Felix his arm without a word, and when Felix hesitates, he simply tilts his head with a patient smile. It’s enough to give him courage, and they step past the doors and descend the grand staircase together—white against white, prince and husband-to-be in a week.

Felix’s steps tap against the stairs in light steps, posture trained and perfect, even as his heartbeat echoes in his ears louder than the music playing faintly from below. The moment they come into view, the conversation below stutters then shifts like a tide. Whispers stir—

“Is that—?”

“Gods, they weren’t joking about the outfit…”

“He’s beautiful.”

“It’s like a blooming flower.”

But just as quickly, voices turn sharper, tinged with disdain.

“They’re really hosting this for him? After what happened to Lady Irene?”

“She nearly died and we’re all expected to toast the Sunshine Prince?”

“It’s inappropriate—he should be mourning, not parading around in lace.”

“I’m sure he begged Prince Hyunjin to do this. So shameless.”

Felix keeps his gaze ahead, spine straight, fingers tightening just slightly on Hyunjin’s arm. He doesn’t wince, doesn’t react—though his throat feels dry and his chest has begun to twist uncomfortably. Hyunjin notices, and without breaking stride, he shifts closer, subtly angling Felix inward so that half his body is shielded by the sweep of his shoulder cape. His expression is somewhat cold, but his grip on Felix’s hand is warm. They drift through the crowd until they finally approach a small group gathered near the head table.

Yeji stands radiant in a midnight-blue gown trimmed with velvet, her arm gently looped through Changbin’s. He looks every inch the knighted noble, his suit elegant with medals gleaming down his chest. To their right, Jennie and Jisung stand together, both dressed royally but comfortably, clearly marked as aides rather than attendees today. Jennie’s eyes brighten the moment she sees Felix, and her hands flutter wildly as if resisting the urge to fuss over him again. “You look—perfect. Really. Like something out of a dream.”

Jisung gives a low whistle. “They’re going to have to bar the doors at this rate. You two are dangerous together.”

“Careful,” Changbin mutters under his breath, side-eyeing Hyunjin with a smirk, “I think that’s exactly what he’s going for.”

Felix offers a grateful smile, and it’s Hyunjin who answers smoothly, all confidence and charm.

“Dangerous?” He muses, leaning in just a little as his gaze slides between Yeji and Jennie. “I was aiming for unforgettable, but I won’t argue with dangerous. It tends to keep the majority of unwanted company away.”

Yeji scoffs, but her smile is fond. “Well you definitely succeeded. You both look truly stunning.”

Hyunjin glances toward Felix again then, like he’s seeing him for the first time tonight—and there’s something soft in his eyes. “He always does,” He murmurs, as if to no one in particular.

Jennie hides a smile behind her hand. Jisung elbows her gently, clearly delighted. “Enjoy yourself tonight, Felix. This is for you. Let people talk if they want. The only opinions that matter are standing right here.”

Just as Yeji finishes speaking and the warmth in their small circle settles like a balm over Felix’s nerves, an abrupt shift in energy prickles the air. The clack of heels precedes the sudden appearance of a tall woman draped in muted burgundy, her narrowed eyes raking over the group with a gaze that could curdle wine. Lady Han, Irene’s mother, stops just short of brushing shoulders with Jennie.

“I suppose you young people have time to be carefree during the banquet,” she begins, her voice tight and disapproving, “..despite the recent events. How convenient it must be to forget what my daughter endured while the rest of us still suffer the consequences.”

Felix stiffens at that. He doesn’t meet her gaze, doesn’t need to. Her words stab enough on their own.

Yeji’s face remains composed, but the tension in her jaw speaks volumes. Changbin subtly moves half a step closer, a silent wall at her side.

“Lady Han,” Jennie says with a graceful bow of her head, attempting diplomacy, “Prince Felix—”

“Oh, I see him,” Lady Han cuts in, her lips curling ever so slightly. “Such a striking outfit. It’s almost enough to make someone forget his more…disruptive tendencies. I only hope next time he thinks to keep his emotions from endangering others.”

Emotions? Felix begins to open his mouth—though for what, he isn’t sure. Apology? Defense? But before a sound escapes, a hand brushes lightly against his own.

“Please move on,” Hyunjin says. The words are simple, but the weight behind them is unmistakable. He doesn’t smile like he was moments ago, and rather his expression has hardened. “You’ve given us your greetings. That’s more than enough.”

Lady Han pauses, eyes widening at the boldness in his tone. It was the first she has ever heard him speak of her that way, especially when Irene has been a friend of the royal family for decades. Either way, surprisingly, she doesn’t argue—because she knows who he is. Who he’s becoming. And just how dangerous his favor could be.

She inhales, chin lifting up. “How lucky you are to be so forgiving, Your Highness.” And with that, she turns sharply and disappears back into the crowd.

A silence follows.

Yeji lets out a slow breath. “Let’s not let her ruin the night.”

Hyunjin gives Felix’s hand a squeeze before letting go. “She’s not worth remembering,” He says simply.

“Right,” Felix nods, but just then, a familiar presence draws his gaze. Minho approaches from across the room—shoulders squared, suit crisp, eyes dark as night like always. “Prince Felix,” The doctor greets, his voice as smooth and unreadable in intention as always. He inclines his head politely, eyes briefly scanning Hyunjin before settling on Felix. “I've heard about the recent events…and I hope you’re feeling better. I have you scheduled for another doctor’s visit later next week—and I’d like to discuss some details with you as soon as possible.”

Felix manages a small smile, although bittersweet. “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Of course you will,” Minho says, his lips curling in a smile as he knows Felix has no choice. “And, by the way, you look wonderful tonight.”

Felix parts his lips to say thank you, but before he can, his eyes subconsciously flicker to Jisung. The younger man hovers just behind Minho still—close enough to catch their every word, yet far enough to appear detached. His gaze, though, is anything but. He’s watching Minho like a hawk, like prey, his nail pressed to his lower lip as he chews on it absently. Felix can’t help but notice the way Jisung’s breath quickens every time Minho speaks, as though drawn by something inevitable. He can’t shake the feeling that Jisung’s hunger is more than simple admiration—that it’s a kind of need that could swallow Minho whole if given the chance. And whether Minho notices or is pretending not to, he can’t be sure.

“…You as well,” He eventually says, looking back at him. Minho gives him one last smile before walking off to wherever he was minutes ago. Jisung’s eyes seem to follow him, and at that moment a gag is heard from Chang-bin. “This isn’t the time to give your partner bedroom eyes,” Chang-bin mutters, trying to hide a grin behind his hand.

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Uhm…regardless, do you mind if I leave for a moment, Felix? I assure you I will be right back at your side. I just—”

Felix chuckles, eyes crinkling up into amused crescents. “No, it’s okay. You can go.”

“Thank you so much!” Jisung beams. He heads in the same direction Minho had gone, moving with fast steps like a hunter tracking its target. Felix watches him go, a flicker of concern catching in his chest for the alpha.

Clearing his mind, he takes a breath, his fingers smoothing over the ruffles at his sleeves. He then glances up at Hyunjin beside him, who is speaking with Yeji, his profile beautifully emphasized by the glow of the lights around them. Felix studies him, and before he knows it an urge rises within him before he can stop it. “Hyunjin?” He asks quietly, tugging slightly at his sleeve to catch his attention.

Hyunjin turns immediately. “Yes?”

Felix swallows his nerves and tilts his head toward the dance floor, where a few couples have begun to gather. “Would you…like to dance with me?”

There’s a brief pause—but only the kind that comes from pleasant surprise. Hyunjin’s expression softens into something fond, even a little amused, like he’s been waiting for Felix to ask that very thing. He wordlessly offers his hand, and they make their way toward the center of the ballroom. Nobles part for them to get through, discreetly watching—some with raised brows, others with tentative curiosity. A few look delighted. Others are whispering the same lies they did already. However, when Hyunjin draws Felix in—one hand resting lightly on his waist, the other entwining with his fingers—Felix briefly forgets about all of that.

Their first steps are slow, unhurried, yet perfectly in time. Hyunjin guides him effortlessly, confident in a way that makes Felix feel like he’s being held together in more than just the physical sense. Still, he can’t help but be painfully aware of every movement, every step, every chance to falter. His eyes dart between Hyunjin and the floor, cheeks warm with the thought of all the eyes surely on them. The laces on his back make him all the more aware of Hyunjin’s hand resting just above the small of his back, heat seeping through the thin fabric. He can’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable to the eyes of those who’d pick him apart into nothing, nothing, nothing.

When the song reaches its final, delicate note, Felix finds himself chest-to-chest with Hyunjin, slightly breathless and pushing back emotions he doesn't have the right to indulge in yet. Hyunjin leans in, his lips brushing Felix’s ear. “You look like an angel,” He murmurs, low enough that only Felix can hear. “A beautiful angel that luckily wandered into my arms.”

Felix’s cheeks flush red, and he tries to compliment him back, but his voice catches in his throat.

Hyunjin only grins that wicked, smug curl at the corner of his lips that Felix knows too well by now. “I mean it,” The alpha insists, voice tinged with something deeper than just desire. “And every step you take makes me want to hold you tighter.”

Felix’s heart lurches at that. “It must be easy for you to say like that,” He somehow manages.

“To you, yes.” Hyunjin’s thumb traces the edge of Felix’s jaw, pausing at his chin. And then, before Felix can overthink or shy away, he leans in, closing the small distance between them. His lips are warm and inviting, a mix of tenderness and restrained feelings that send shivers through Felix’s entire body. He freezes, startled by the suddenness, by the heat, by the shame of being seen in front of so many. It’s a short kiss, but it’s enough to cause widened eyes, gasps, coos, and a wave of shocked awe.

He doesn’t even realize they’ve moved until he feels Hyunjin’s hand tugging him gently from the center of the ballroom and back toward where the others—and now Seung-min—are waiting.

Eventually, after exchanging a few more greetings, Felix finds himself alone. Whether he’s excused himself or simply drifted away from the constant teasing and playful jabs by the others, he isn’t sure. Either way, the quiet is a relief. He ends up at the refreshment table, picking up a glass of ice cold water. The liquid feels like a lifeline against the heat of his flushed face and the rapid beat of his heart. He sips the water, trying to calm himself, but his mind keeps replaying the recent events.

This is the second time they’ve kissed, and after Hyunjin was so flustered the first time, he was surprised by his boldness today. Of course, he didn’t mind it. Maybe it’s what they needed as “proof” in front of all these people, and maybe he had been hoping for it secretly the moment they saw each other getting ready before the banquet.

After a few moments, Jennie glides over, a small plate in hand as if she’s been tending to the buffet. She’s smiling, but her eyes are assessing as they flick over Felix, reading every nuance. “Your Highness,” She greets lightly, tilting her head. “How are you feeling? Did the dance help your nerves at all, or…has it made you even more flustered?” She winks.

Felix laughs, a little embarrassed, glancing down at his hands. “I think I feel more…relaxed.”

Jennie beams at that, her grin proud. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear. You’ve been through a lot lately, and tonight is as much about celebrating you as it is about anything else!” She leans in, her tone dropping to a playful whisper. “Although you’re supposed to stay in our reach, if you’re still feeling a little too overwhelmed—” She gestures lightly toward the grand staircase behind them “—why not go find Jisung and Lord Minho? I heard they slipped upstairs a little while ago. Fireworks are going to start soon outside the castle balcony, and I’m sure they wouldn’t want to miss them. A quick little distraction might help you clear your mind even more, hm?” She punctuates the suggestion with another wink, leaving Felix blinking, his lips parting in surprise.

“Fireworks?” He repeats, his voice soft.

Jennie nods, her smile gentle but mischievous. “Nothing like a sky full of stars and fire to remind you that you’re alive and very much part of this world, Your Highness.”

“…alright. I’ll be back soon.” Felix says, giving Jennie a small nod before slipping away from the refreshment table. He climbs a smaller staircase that winds along the edge of the ballroom. From his vantage point, he can see the sea of nobles and townsfolk below—waltzing, dining, laughing. The sounds of strings and soft voices fill the air, and for a fleeting second, something light and airy settles in his chest. As soon as he walks across the indoor terrace and stumbles across a certain alcove— curtained off but not completely closed—that feeling dims.Inside, seem to be three women that are talking about the recent events—specifically him.

“Did you see him earlier?” One of the women says, her tone acidic with intrigue. “Standing there all dolled up—like some little prize for the prince to claim.”

Another woman snorts. “Of course. So much for the innocent sunshine prince. Letting himself be kissed in front of everyone like that. How shameful.”

“It’s as if he’s flaunting it,” The third woman whispers, voice dripping with disdain. “All that drama with Lady Irene, and now this...”

Felix leans against the wall nearby, rubbing a hand against his temples. After a few more minutes, he decides to be direct. He strides forward and yanks the curtain aside, and three startled gasps are heard. Their faces pale in shock.

Felix tilts his head. “Oh,” He starts, tone deceptively light. “I couldn’t help but overhear my name. Several times, in fact.” He steps forward into the alcove, shutting the curtain back behind him.

“W-We—“ One of the women stammers, her lips parting in horror. “Your Highness—we—”

“—We didn’t mean—” Another tries to say.

“You didn’t mean it?” Felix’s lower lip quivers just slightly, eyes growing glassy. “That’s strange. Because I heard every word. About how I’m flaunting myself. About how Hyunjin only defends me because I’m seemingly pathetic. About how I’m the reason for Lady Irene’s poisoning.” He lets his voice crack on that last word, a carefully timed fall for pity. “And I’m trying so hard,” Felix continues, tears beginning to well in his eyes. “I just wanted to come here and be a part of this kingdom. Yet, all I hear is how shameful and unworthy I am. I think…that I should tell the royal family I’ll be leaving now. Would that be better since no one likes me here? I’ll get a divorce and—”

“Your Highness, no!” One of them cries, voice desperate. She stands and waves her hand around in frantic motions, as if brushing off the very issue they lack accountability for. “We didn’t mean any of that, we were just—”

“Just what?” Felix forces a sniffle, wiping at his eyes. “Just talking about things that don’t concern you?

“No…we…we’re sorry,” Another finally says, biting her lip and digging her nails into her palms. “We misunderstood you due to the rumors circulating around. We understand that we shouldn’t have listened to them.”

Felix smiles. “Good, now remember this,” He continued. “The next time you want to talk about someone who’s never done anything to you, think twice about who you might be hurting.”

The women are left staring at him, wide-eyed and shaking as Felix turns on his feet to go out. Satisfaction warms his chest, even as an ache stirs beneath it. A little further down the second-floor terrace, he finds an opening to the outside—an ornate set of glass doors leading to a small, private balcony overlooking the castle gardens. It’s quieter here, secluded from the noise of the banquet.

He steps forward and rests his arms on the railing, breathing in the night air. A breeze flutters through his hair, tickling the nape of his neck and brushing against his back. His eyes wander to the gardens below, where clusters of guests wander between lanterns and floral arrangements. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear a child’s laughter—and it reminds him of Anaiyia.

Felix’s eyes wander a bit more, and soon enough he spots Jisung and Minho sitting on a bench a few paces away from where he’s standing. It’s a quiet, secluded part of the upper balcony, nestled beneath an overhang draped with white wisteria. Lanterns sway overhead, casting a gentle, golden glow that softens the scene.

Jisung is curled up in Minho’s lap, head tucked into the crook of his neck, face hidden by a fall of tousled hair. One of Jisung’s hands is resting on Minho’s chest, fingers tracing the fabric there—idly, almost thoughtlessly. He’s extremely close, practically pressed against him, and the way he’s breathing into his neck—slow, deep—tells Felix everything he needs to know. Jisung is scenting Minho.

And It’s the intimacy of it that makes his heart tighten a tad. He’s not sure if they notice him at first—Minho’s face is angled toward Jisung, eyes half-lidded and soft, while Jisung is occasionally pressing his lips to Minho’s neck, biting, the smallest of smiles playing at his mouth. He figures he should walk away then, give them privacy—but before he can, Minho lifts his gaze and catches him watching. “Felix,” Minho says, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips.

Jisung stirs, his head lifting from Minho’s shoulder, eyes hazy but focusing on Felix with a slow blink, clearly under the influence of an alphas scent.

Felix swallows, rubbing at his wrist nervously. “I—uh—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just—”

Minho puts a hand up dismissively. “It’s fine,” He says. “You’re not interrupting. Were you looking for us?”

Felix nods slowly. “Yeah. I was asked to get you two so we could all watch the fireworks together. They’re starting soon.”

Minho’s smile grows. “That’s fine, we’ll be there in one minute. I just need to make sure he calms down first.”

“I am calm,” Jisung murmurs.

“Your senses are a foggy mess.” Minho corrects him.

Felix takes a step back, eager to give them some privacy. “Alright then. I'll see you two by the stairs.” He turns, trying to slow his pounding heart. And as he walks away, he wonders if they even realize how they look—like two halves of a whole, so seamlessly intertwined that he almost envies them. And he does envy them—though he’d never say it out loud. They have the comfort Felix has always longed for. He has never had a long relationship with an alpha—not even with Chan—and that means he’s never had the chance to truly scent someone or be scented himself. That kind of intimacy feels like something from another life, something he can’t quite grasp, like trying to hold water in his hands without it slipping through his fingers. Although Hyunjin is different from his past relationships and special in ways he’s still discovering, it’s not the same yet. They’re still learning each other, testing boundaries, and finding the right ways to fit.

Back at the bottom of the stairs, he notices excited chatter sweeping through the ballroom, carrying with it a sense of anticipation. One by one, nobles and royals begin to gather their things—delicate coats, fine capes, tailored cloaks lined with fur—to prepare for the evening’s highlight: the fireworks and magical light show in the garden. The fragrance of expensive perfume lingers in the air, mixing with the crisp night breeze that starts to slip through the opened doors. Partners drape warm coats over the shoulders of their ladies, while their personal attendants fuss over ensuring every last detail is perfect: gloves, scarves, and jewelry adjusted just so. It’s a small flurry of movement, but it’s lively.

When he steps outside, a winter chill rushes over him. Before he can even lift his arms to hug himself—an instinctive, if futile, attempt to stay warm—he notices Hyunjin already shrugging his dolman from his shoulders. He drapes the coat over his shoulders with care, adjusting it so the collar sits just right. The warmth is immediate, a cocoon of comfort that smells like him—faintly citrus, warm, familiar.

“You won’t be cold?” Felix turns to look at him, and Hyun-Jin only grins.

“I’ve been out on missions colder than today for years, so I’ve grown used to it.” His tone is light and full of sincerity. “Besides,” He adds, reaching around to adjust the coat around Felix’s shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly over Felix’s collarbone to snap the collar’s button there. “I’d prefer you have my coat regardless.” He says—clear he’d rather Felix be warm than himself.

“Thank you.” Felix responds softly, his cheeks pink as the realization of Hyunjin’s gesture sinks in. He tugs the coat a little tighter around himself, drawing in Hyunjin’s lingering warmth. A hush falls over the crowd as an announcement sounds—a gentle reminder for everyone to focus on the display that’s about to begin. The murmurs fade to silence, anticipation crackling in the air like static. A single rocket whooshes into the sky, bursting with a brilliant white light that fans out into a thousand shimmering points. The crowd gasps in unison, eyes wide, faces lifted. More fireworks follow—red, green, blue, and gold—painting the night sky in an ever-changing tapestry of color and bathing the gardens in shifting hues.

Lanterns around the perimeter add a warm glow that dances over the hedges and flowerbeds, mingling with the explosions of magic above. Every now and then, small lights—like miniature sprites—float down from the sky, dancing over the guests before dissolving into the air. Felix stands side by side with Hyunjin, their arms brushing now and then. He's just about to ask about a certain firework—that was somehow silver—when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He briefly turns his head to see who, his eyes straining in the dim light that remains whenever the fireworks fade. He sees only the silhouette of a woman draped in black, her face mostly concealed by a veil. Her voice, soft yet edged with something unusual, whispers to him. “How are you doing, Young master Yongbok?”

And immediately, panic seizes his chest like a vice. He knows that voice—melancholic, awfully sweet, deceiving. He fell for it once in the past. He immediately recognizes them as Seoyeon—a woman who undeniably causes him the same stress and torment as his cousin does—jiho’s assistant. Although her face is hidden well, her presence is undeniable. She has always been a threat—a shadow that stalked him with that sly smile, that soft, honeyed voice that never quite matched her actions.

For a second, everything feels like it’s moving underwater: the music, the crowd’s laughter, the hush of the winter night. “Seoyeon—” He starts, but she lifts a gloved hand, placing it on his shoulder.

“Shh,” She warns. Her voice is a silk thread in the night, gentle yet impossibly firm. “If you draw attention to me, I might have to kill you.”

Felix’s heart stops the moment Seoyeon’s pulls a dagger from her cloak—gleaming wickedly in the glow of the fireworks.

He doesn’t have time to think. Doesn’t have time to shout.

Seoyeon lunges at Hyunjin—dagger aimed low, fast, deadly.

His body moves before his mind can catch up. A desperate shove, pushing Hyunjin off balance, a choked sound of confusion from the alpha. And then—

The dagger sinks into him.

White-hot pain sears through his side, stealing his breath in a single, gutting instant. His body locks, his hand instinctively flying to the wound. The blade is yanked out as quickly as it was pushed in, leaving a gaping, pulsing agony in its wake. His vision blurs, darkness threatening the edges. He collapses to his knees, breath ragged, gasping for air that won’t come.

“Felix—!” Hyunjin is there instantly, strong arms wrapping around him before he can hit the ground. His face is pale, eyes wide with horror, voice breaking.

Seoyeon’s smile widens, a predator’s grin. “How unfortunate,” She purrs, grabbing a cloth from her pocket and wiping the dripping crimson from her Erin. “I was aiming for you.” She tilts her head at Hyunjin.

Felix tries to speak, but the pain makes it impossible. His lips part in a gasp, the air thin and cold in his lungs. He feels the warmth of Hyunjin’s coat pressed against him, his own blood soaking through it. Hyunjin’s eyes are fierce, his grip tight. “You—” he snarls at Seoyeon, his voice vibrating with rage.

But she’s already retreating, melting into the shadows like a ghost. “Don’t worry,” She calls, her voice almost playful. “I’m sure our little prince will survive.”

Fireworks continue to burst overhead—and each one blooms like a wound in the sky. When light becomes visible in the crowd every few seconds, people start to notice the scene. Whispers of alarm rise quickly—nervous glances, wide eyes, lips parted in confusion. One of the nobles—someone in dark emerald and gold—clutches her companion’s arm. “Are they okay? Something happened—”

Felix groans slightly upon feeling blood seep between his fingers. He tries to straighten, but another shudder of pain bends him at the waist. Without another moment to waste, Hyunjin’s arms close around him, one arm slipping beneath Felix’s knees, the other wrapping around his back. Felix tries to protest, but his voice catches in his throat. More gasps ripple through the nearby onlookers as Hyunjin hoists him effortlessly, holding him like a fragile treasure, cradling him close as he walks through from the gathering crowd.

“Someone get Minho!” he snaps at a nearby guard, his voice low but sharp with authority.

Felix blinks up at him, lips parting, voice a trembling whisper. “Hyunjin…I didn’t mean for—”

“Please don’t talk,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice raw, his eyes flicking from Felix’s pale face to his injury. “You’re going to be okay, but if you strain yourself you may get worse.”

As he carries Felix toward the ballroom entrance, guilt gnaws at him like a feral thing. It should have been him. He’d been closest—should have noticed the shift in the air, the predator’s intent. How could he have let someone slip past his guard, right under his nose, and strike so cruelly? Every step feels like a lifetime as he carries Felix toward the ballroom entrance, where the staff are already rushing forward.

Chapter Text

The room upstairs smelled faintly of lavender and old wood polish, a quiet refuge from the chaos below. The muffled noise of fireworks still pulsed through the air, but it felt distant, as though the world was finally giving Felix a moment to breathe. He rested heavily against Hyunjin’s shoulder, eyes half-lidded, lips parted to catch each shallow breath.Minho was crouched in front of him, gloved hands applying antiseptic cream and wrapping clean bandages around his side with a gentleness that belied the urgency of his movements. “I’m almost done, you’re doing good so far,” Minho muttered, his voice calm but taut with worry. “This will all help with the blood loss.”

Felix winced as the bandages tightened, pain radiating outward like lightning, but the medicine Minho had administered moments earlier—an herbal mixture meant to inhibit blood spill and dull the pain—was making him drowsy. A soft, pained hiss escaped him, quickly swallowed by the medicine dulling his senses. His head lolled, resting heavier against Hyunjin.

Behind him, Jisung hovered nervously, his expression a battlefield of emotions. His brows were knitted so tightly that a line had formed between them. His lips were pressed into a thin, pale line, and his hands—usually so animated—hung uselessly at his sides. Every time Felix whimpered, Jisung’s jaw tightened, his throat bobbing as if he were swallowing back a scream. He’d always been the one to lighten the mood, to make Felix laugh when things were tense. But now? Now he felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he’d failed him in the worst way possible. He was regretful for even leaving Felix’s side to see Minho, for getting distracted. Had he not been so tempted to scent him, he would’ve been back down immediately after speaking with him.

Seungmin stood beside him, his jaw set, arms folded across his chest as though bracing himself for a fight that had already passed. Changbin’s eyes, dark and watchful, flicked between Felix and the door. Outside in the hallway, Yeji and Jennie were speaking with the guards, their voices low and urgent—confirming protocols, coordinating the search, and interrogating any witness who might have seen someone suspicious walk in.

Eventually, Felix ended up falling asleep. His eyelids grew too heavy to hold open. His head drooped against Hyunjin’s shoulder, the lines of pain on his face finally easing into something calm. Minho checked the bandages one last time, fingers pressing lightly against the gauze. “He’s stable,” He said, his voice quiet, though the strain in his shoulders never left. He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in a smell bag nearby. “We’ll need to keep an eye on the injury, but he’ll sleep through the worst of it. We’re lucky whatever he was stabbed with didn’t carry poison.”

Jisung let out a shaky sigh of relief, though his eyes remained glued to Felix’s pale face. “I still want to know exactly what happened. Who targeted him—”

Changbin cut him off with a subtle shake of his head, his expression grim. “We’ll get answers from him, but not now. Let him rest.”

Hyunjin shifted, careful not to disturb Felix’s weight against him. His guilt still churned in his chest—an ache that wouldn’t leave—though it couldn’t possibly be stronger than Jisung’s feelings. The omega had rushed to them the moment he saw other knights flying to Hyunjin; the moment he saw Felix in his arms. There, he realized his whole purpose failed, and not even for the first time. He immediately apologized for his absence, and said that he wasn’t able to join up with Felix because the crowd surge was too tight and left little room to traverse through. If he had—

There’s a lot of ifs. And everyone has an “if”.

If they had all been near each other.

If Felix hadn’t taken the hit.

If the guards had been more attentive and spaced themselves evenly through the ground, rather than guard the entrance to the guarded only.

If Hyunjin had noticed Felix tense up next to him, heard the woman’s voice, and moved in time.

If—

Just then, the door creaked open, and Yeji and Jennie slipped back inside. Their faces were taut, their eyes scanning the room, but when they saw Felix asleep, their shoulders relaxed—just a little. “Guards have been doubled outside,” Yeji reported, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “They all are investigating too, but so far it looks like nobody has seen anyone suspicious come in. It had only been registered, familiar guests. Did you notice anything particular about them, Hyunjin?”

“Not much. All I saw was a woman in all black with a veil talking to him, but I couldn’t hear anything they were saying over the crowd and fireworks. They seemed close, though I’m not sure now. It was only until Felix suddenly shoved me away that I realized she was a threat. She told me that I should’ve been the one stabbed, and…vanished.” He pauses, his brows furrowing as he recalls the moment. “That must be how she blended in unnoticed—by vanishing.”

“Vanished? Was she a mage?”

“Likely,” Hyun-Jin says. “But again, we’ll have to ask Felix to figure that out more. We can’t make assumptions yet—he may not know her at all, but I can’t even assume that when she said “our” prince. What matters now is that he’s safe.”

A few hours later, it’s around 9:53 pm in the evening. The moon hangs low outside the window, its pale glow painting the room in silver shadows. Felix is still resting, and Hyunjin has taken the responsibility of changing his bandages for the night in place of Minho. They’re in his room—like so many times before, except this time it’s too quiet. Hyunjin sits beside Felix on the bed, his hands gentle as he unwinds the old bandage, eyes fixed on the angry wound beneath. It’s healing faster than he expected—thanks to the medicine Minho administered—but the skin is still tender and ripped, a mark of sacrifice that makes Hyunjin’s chest clench.

He doesn’t want to have to see any more scars on Felix’s body.

He applies some medical oil to his fingers, brushing lightly over the wound, careful not to irritate it. Felix stirs at the touch regardless, his brows furrowing. A soft, tired groan escapes his lips as he shifts, eyes blinking open to meet Hyunjin’s worried stare. “Hyunjin…” His voice is rough, a shadow of itself, but there’s warmth there—something that soothes the jagged edges of Hyunjin’s guilt.

Hyunjin swallows, his hands stilling. “Hey. Don’t move too much, okay? You’re still healing.”

Felix nods, pulling his lip between his teeth and biting it hard. His eyes darted to the tiny jar of oil and the other medical supplies on the bed. “…Is everyone else okay?”

Hyunjin gives him a bittersweet smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I don’t know how you can worry about everyone else when you’re the one who took the hit.” His voice softens. “But, yes, everyone is fine. The guests made it home safely. Jisung’s a regretful mess, of course, but he’s safe too.”

“Okay, good.” Felix murmurs. “I…we should talk about what happened, right? I know you’re curious. Probably angry—”

“I’m not angry,” Hyunjin interrupts, almost too quickly, his tone firm but immediately mellowing. He shakes his head, his eyes fixed on Felix’s, unwavering. “Felix, I’m not angry. I’m…just frustrated. Guilty. Maybe even ashamed we didn’t protect you well—didn’t consider what could’ve happened besides what we initially expected.” His lips pressing into a thin line. “I was right there with you, but I didn’t notice until it was too late. So, you're right, we should talk about it. But not because of my own feelings at the moment—but because I need to understand who that person was and your relationship to them. They said they were aiming to injure me originally, and that’s why you pushed me away, correct?”

Felix hesitates, his gaze dropping to the floor. His hands fidget with a curl of his hair, twisting it between his fingers. “Yeah,” He says finally. “I—I recognized her just before she tried to strike. Her name is Seoyeon—Kim Seoyeon. She works for someone in my family who doesn’t want me here.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrow. “Your family?”

Felix nods. “It always comes back to them. Even though our parents arranged this marriage, there are plenty of people—people in our own circles—who think Artevmia is a threat. They think I’ll cause problems that’ll make things worse between our kingdoms.”

Hyunjin’s brows furrow, his thumb tracing slow circles on the back of Felix’s hand. “I see, and is she a magic user, possibly a part of the Mages’ Tower?”

Felix’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Yeah.” And that’s all he says.

Hyunjin lets that sit for a beat, studying the way Felix’s hands twist in his lap. “And…is anyone else in your family involved in that organization?”

Felix’s breath stutters. “My…cousin is,” He admits quietly.

“Jiho?”

Felix doesn’t answer at first, but his eyes dart away—avoiding Hyunjin’s—and his whole posture shrinks in on itself. “Yeah. As I told you, our relationship is really…strained. I’d rather avoid him, if possible,” He says carefully, choosing his words carefully like stepping stones across a dangerous river. “He’s…a bit unhealthily obsessed with me,” he admits, voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “Always watching me. Following me. Acting like I owe him something. It’s why I’ve always tried to keep my distance when I realized, but that’s almost impossible. He spread those disgusting rumors about me and he’s done a lot of things that he shouldn’t have gotten away with. Things that make me feel…uncomfortable. He treats me as—” He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes wide and bleary, as if some terrible memory claws at his mind. “Just…please don’t leave me alone when my family arrives.”

Hyunjin’s thumb stills against Felix’s skin. His eyes display a mix of concern and anger, but he keeps his voice gentle. “Thank you for telling me all of this. We’ll handle it together, I swear you won’t have to face them alone. I’ll be by your side as much as you need.” He promises. His chest aches as he studies Felix’s anxious posture, the shadowed look on his face. It’s a small thing, but a powerful confirmation—Jiho is clearly one of the sources of pain and conflict for Felix. But the question is, is he the one who gave Felix his scars? Why would he spread those rumors? In what way does he make Felix uncomfortable? Either way, no matter how much those questions claw at the edge of his tongue, he lets it go for now, knowing the stress it would bring Felix.

“Thank you,” Felix forces a small smile, though it wavers at the edges, betraying the strain behind his eyes. He shifts uncomfortably, sitting up further, and it’s clear he’s still worried about the whole situation. “It’s… not the heaviest information,” He starts. “I know I need to tell you more—and I want to, truly, but…I’m scared that if I tell you everything I struggle with, it’ll cause more trouble. I’ve already caused enough of that,” He explains, his throat bobbing with a tight swallow. The memory of Ravena’s aftermath burns in his chest like a brand, a reminder that the wrong words, the wrong moves, could shatter the fragile peace he’s found here. “The last thing I want is to drag Artevmia into my family’s mess. I don’t want to see you or your people hurt because of me. Once we’re officially engaged, however, all of this—my family’s hold on me—should finally end. They’ll have no authority over me, and they can’t drag me back home or force me into their politics anymore. You’re very patient with me through this, and I appreciate that more than you know.”

Hyunjin listens with a patience that soothes and wounds Felix all at once. The alpha’s gaze is warm, his thumb tracing slow, calming circles on the dorsal of his hand. “Felix,” He says gently, his voice low and earnest, “You’re my husband, so of course I have to be like so. It’s my responsibility to ease your worries, even if only a little, because I love and care for you,”

Love.

The word feels like a blow to the chest. “I…” His voice falters, eyes glistening. “I love you too,” He whispers, his voice breaking on the last word. He feels it all in his bones, a feeling so deep it terrifies him. “I really do,”

Hyunjin’s lips spread into an impossibly wide grin at that confession, so bright and genuine it makes Felix’s chest tighten all over again. After another quiet beat, Hyunjin’s expression softens and grows more thoughtful, his brow furrowing slightly as he remembers something important. “Would you like to bathe soon? It might help with the wound—ease some of the stiffness. Of course, only if you’re feeling up to it. I didn’t feel comfortable changing your clothes without your permission. I wanted to ask first.”

Felix nods. “That would be nice,” He agrees, his voice a little weaker than usual but laced with warmth. Then, after a hesitant beat—a vulnerable flicker in his eyes—he adds, “And…would you mind helping me? I’d appreciate it if you stayed close. I can’t exactly bend down…after all.”

Hyunjin’s heart stutters. He feels his cheeks flush at the question—an odd tangle of shyness and protectiveness—but he quickly nods. “Of course,” he says, voice low but steady. “I’d be happy to.”

He helps Felix carefully stand, guiding him toward the adjoining bathroom. Hyunjin expects Felix to ask him to wait outside while he bathes, but instead, Felix stops by the edge of the tub and, with a small, determined exhale, begins to take off his unlace corset and unbutton his shirt.

Hyunjin’s breath catches in his throat. For a moment, he’s frozen, his eyes darting to the floor as heat blooms across his cheeks. He’s seen Felix undressed before—that had been the first time he discovered his scars, but never quite like this.

“Would you like me to leave until you get in?”

Felix’s fingers pause on the last button of his shirt, and he glances up at Hyunjin with a small, almost shy smile. “No, I don’t mind you being here,” he says, his tone steady despite the faint flush on his cheeks. “I’m just getting undressed. We’re together, no?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitches. “Of course, but I…uhm…” He trails off, his gaze flicking to Felix’s bare skin and then darting quickly away. His throat works as he swallows thickly, his palms suddenly damp with nervousness. “Okay,” he finally manages, his voice tight but warm.

Felix’s lips curl into a soft smile at Hyunjin’s reaction—so endearingly sweet, so different from the confident exterior he often shows to others. “You don’t have to be embarrassed,” he says gently, continuing to undo the ties of his corset and slipping the garment off. “It’s okay. I trust you, and…it’s not like we won’t see each other naked eventually.”

Hyunjin’s chest tightens with a mixture of relief and flustered excitement. “Right. I just—” He bites his lip, his eyes darting again to Felix’s now-bare chest before he forces himself to focus on Felix’s face instead. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Felix steps a little closer, his hand brushing Hyunjin’s arm lightly. “You never do,” He murmurs, eyes warm. “You make me feel safe.”

And with that, he continues undressing, revealing the bruises and faint scars that always catch Hyunjin’s eye, each one a reminder of what Felix had endured. Hyunjin’s hands hover in the air, aching to reach out, but he hesitates, afraid of overstepping. It’s honestly a shock to him that Felix feels safe when he’s failed protecting him far too many times now; mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Every time he looks at Felix—at the fading bruises from his disappearance and the bandages from today that peek out from beneath the undone shirt—he’s reminded of every moment he wasn’t fast enough, precise enough, strong enough. He hadn’t proven himself—not yet. Not in the ways that mattered most. Felix’s trust is a fragile, beautiful thing, and Hyunjin is terrified he’ll shatter it with one wrong move, so he needs to do better. They all do.

When Felix starts to take his pants off, that’s when he notices hesitation. He seems to pause, almost like he’s unsure if he wants to do it or not, wants to reveal what’s underneath. Eventually, after a slow inhale, he turns his back and unzips them, letting them fall to his ankles.

And just as they do, Hyunjin spaces out.

There’s more scars.

Painting the back of his thighs in the form of heavy lashes, old cuts, and marks all intentionally placed in places Felix could cover easily. A cruel trick by whoever did this—punishment that Felix could hide from the world but would forever carry with him in private. Rage pulses through him like adrenaline started anew. Before he can let his scent show it—before he lets it envelop his ugly, bitter feelings—he looks away and closes his eyes. His hands ball into tight fists at his sides. He forces himself to breathe, to hold that violence at bay. He knows Felix doesn’t need to see that part of him now; doesn’t need to feel like he’s the cause of it. All he wants, however, is Felix to know that he sees him—not just the scars, but the strength that came with them.

After a few moments, Felix slides his boxers down his hips, and he stands there, back still to Hyunjin, too afraid to turn around and meet his eyes—doesn’t know what expression is on his face right now after showing all his scars. The silence stretches unbearably, heavy with all the unspoken fears between them. And then—so softly that it almost startles him—he feels Hyunjin’s warm presence right behind him. The alpha secures a towel around his waist, shielding him from the air and from any lingering self-consciousness.

His hands are gentle, no tremor in them, no hesitation—only care. He knots the towel snugly but not too tight, ensuring it won’t slip. Then he stays, just behind Felix, close enough that Felix can feel his breath against his skin. “Are you ready to get in?” Hyunjin’s voice is a gentle murmur against the quiet tension of the room. Felix nods, his hands fidgeting with the edge of the towel. “Yeah…” he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper. Then, after a beat, he adds, “Thank you.” His words are heavy with relief and gratitude—a small, but earnest acknowledgment.

Hyunjin smiles, though the ache in his chest doesn’t leave him. “Of course,” he says softly, “take your time.” He steps back just enough to give Felix the space to move, his hands still open at his sides in case Felix needs his support. Felix steps forward, one cautious foot at a time, and settles into the warm bath, careful not to move his upper body too much. A small sigh escapes him, part pain, part comfort, as he sits back against the cool porcelain edge.

Hyunjin kneels at the edge of the tub, dipping a soapy cloth into the water, squeezing out the excess before gently pressing it against Felix’s back. The cloth trails over Felix’s shoulders, down the ridges of his spine, and across the newly bandaged wound. He’s mindful of the scars as he scrubs his back and shoulders, treats them as if they’re new with a care that makes Felix’s throat tighten.

This type of care feels almost foreign to him. It brings him back to the Sunshine Kingdom, where maids would assist him in the bath when necessary. Their hands had always been precise and sensitive, but it was a clinical, detached kind of touch—like they were polishing a doll for display, ensuring he was always perfect and unblemished (save for the scars they occasionally came across.) Hence, why he’s been reluctant to have any help whenever he needed to freshen up. In comparison, Hyun-Jin’s touch is human, light, warm. It makes Felix feel something he can’t quite name—a fragile sense of being seen, cared for, not as an ornament but as a person.

When he’s finished with his back, Hyunjin shifts to the side and lifts one of Felix’s legs from the water, bracing it with his own arm so Felix doesn’t have to strain himself. He scrubs and repeats the same for the other leg, slowly, as though memorizing every inch of Felix’s skin—every hidden hurt he’s just now seeing in the soft lighting of the bathroom.

Hyunjin sets the cloth aside and dips his hands into the warm water, gathering enough to pour gently over Felix’s hair. The strands uncurl and cling to Felix’s forehead and temples, sticking in uneven little tufts. “Lean back just a bit,” Hyunjin says softly, cupping Felix’s chin to tilt his head backward. Felix obeys, closing his eyes with a sigh as Hyunjin’s hands work through the tangles with careful fingers. He massages the shampoo into Felix’s scalp, and all the while he can’t help but smile to himself. Felix looks vulnerable like this—like a wet kitten, he thinks, and when Felix has gotten out, and dried off, that thought still remains.

“Are you hungry?” Hyun-Jin asks as he removes a towel from the omega’s hair, having finished drying it.

Felix shakes his head, his eyes downcast. “I don’t think I can stomach eating with this injury.”

Hyunjin hums thoughtfully, his brow furrowed as he cups Felix’s cheek gently, brushing a thumb over the omega’s slightly pale skin. “What about soup? Something light—so you don’t have to sleep on an empty stomach. I don’t want you feeling faint again.”

Felix’s eyes flicker up, hesitant, the hint of stubbornness still lingering. “Maybe,” He concedes, his voice barely above a whisper. “But just a little. I…I’d rather stay with you.”

“Then we’ll eat here, together. I’ll call Mei or Jennie in to tell the kitchen to bring up something easy—broth and bread.”

And that’s how Felix finds himself being fed by Hyunjin, despite his own hands being capable enough to work that way. Hyunjin spoons a bit of the warm broth, his brows furrowed in concentration as if it’s the most important task in the world. Felix almost protests—he’s not a child, and certainly not helpless—but the determination in Hyunjin’s gaze keeps him quiet. He wants to do this, wants to help him in any way he can.

After the last spoonfuls of soup, Hyunjin sets the bowl down on the nightstand, wiping Felix’s mouth with a soft cloth. He takes a slow breath, studying Felix’s tired expression. “Hey,” he says, a gentle curiosity in his voice, “is there anything I can do to help you feel more comfortable? Something to keep your mind off everything tonight—until you’re ready to sleep?”

Felix’s gaze drops to the bed covers, his fingers absently picking at the edge. He’s quiet for a moment, clearly considering it. Then, voice low and a bit hesitant, he murmurs, “Actually…there is something. But I…I’m not sure if you’ll think it’s weird.”

Hyunjin leans in, his tone soft and reassuring. “Felix, nothing you say is weird to me. I’d listen to whatever you say.”

Felix takes a breath and meets his eyes—vulnerable, a little embarrassed. “I’ve seen how Minho and Jisung…you know, scent each other. And I guess I’ve just been thinking about it. Would…would you mind if I…scented you? Just for a little while?”

Hyunjin’s reply comes too excited. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”

Felix’s relief is visible, his shoulders sagging as he smiles shyly. He’s nervous—Hyunjin can see it in the way his fingers twist in his lap—but the yearning is stronger. It’s a small, silent plea for closeness, for comfort, for the bond he’s been starved of for too long. So he takes the initiative, settling on the bed next to him and leaning back. He unbuttons his nightshirt, and Felix watches every button come loose, revealing pale skin that could easily be ruined. Hyunjin pauses when he finishes, his shirt falling open but not yet slipping off his shoulders. His eyes meet Felix’s, a small, tender smile on his lips. “It’s okay,” He says, voice low and gentle. “Go ahead.”

Felix’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out, hesitant at first, but Hyunjin’s warmth draws him in. He leans closer, the tips of his fingers brushing lightly against Hyunjin’s chest, testing the space between them. After a moment, he shifts his weight and settles himself on Hyunjin’s lap. His legs drape on either side of Hyunjin’s thighs, and his hands rest gently on Hyunjin’s chest, getting as close as he can.

He lowers his head, his lips hovering close to Hyunjin’s neck. The familiar, comforting scent—warm cedar and a hint of something citrus—envelopes his senses, spurring him on. He nuzzles the sensitive spot just below Hyunjin’s jaw, breathing in deeply and letting the scent calm his racing heart. His lips press a gentle kiss against the base of Hyunjin’s throat, and Hyunjin shivers, his hands tightening around Felix’s waist. His own scent, a little heavier now, blends with Felix’s, filling the space between them with a perfect mix.

Felix’s lips travel lower, pausing just above Hyun-Jin’s scent gland, feeling the faint thrum of his pulse beneath. A shaky breath leaves Felix’s lips, and he hesitates—just for a moment—before he closes the distance, sinking his teeth gently, but not too gently, into that sensitive spot. Hyun-Jin’s eyes flutter shut, a soft groan tumbling from his lips as his head tips back, his scent blooming like an uncontainable wildfire. Pheromones flood the air, thick and fragrant, wrapping around Felix like a lover’s embrace. They soak into his skin, override his senses, and make this little action seem a little too dangerous. A little toooverwhelming.

Felix shudders, his head falling against Hyun-Jin’s shoulder, his lips parting in a shaky gasp. Heat creeps up his veins, slow but unstoppable, pooling low in his stomach and coiling tighter with every breath. His cheeks flush, every inch of his skin prickling with need he didn’t expect. Between his legs, he hardens, the sensation sending a low whine trembling in his throat. He feels lightheaded, his heart racing as he struggles to keep from losing himself completely. “H-Hyunjin…” He breathes, voice weak, barely a whimper as his knees threaten to buckle. Every inch of him is on fire, nerves sparking with an intensity that leaves him dizzy, drunk on the alpha’s scent.

“F-Fuck…” Felix curses into Hyun-Jin’s shoulder, voice muffled. It’s better than he hoped, so much that he couldn’t calm down. His body betrays him—hips moving slow at first, grinding down in a slow, almost experimental rhythm that quickly shifts into something more desperate. He can’t help it. The heat in his veins is like a living thing, curling tight and making him impossibly hard between his legs. He’s so lost in the alpha’s pheromones that he doesn’t even notice what he’s doing until hands pressing down on his hips to hold him still.

“Felix.” Hyun-Jin’s voice cuts through the haze—stern, warning, a lifeline amid the suffocating heat.

Felix’s movements stutter, and his eyes widen as he freezes. His breath hitches, and for a moment, shame creeps in, chasing the last vestiges of haze from his mind. He pulls back quickly, hands lifting from Hyun-Jin’s shoulders as if he was burned, and all he can manage is a ragged, “Sorry…I…” The rest of the apology flees from his tongue when he locks eyes with Hyun-Jin.

Hyun-Jin looks feral now—his eyes a deep, unguarded black, pupils wide and dilated, shimmering with a need that’s both desperate and dangerous. His breath comes in ragged pants, chest heaving with every inhalation as though he can’t get enough air, or enough of Felix’s scent. His lips are parted, teeth barely grazing the corner of his mouth as if to keep himself from biting. His grip on Felix’s hips is possessive, hard enough to leave bruises, and his entire body is tense like he’s holding back from pouncing.

He had to stop them now, even if every cell in his body is screaming to drag Felix closer, to mark him deeper, to scent him until he’s completely drunk on it. Because if Felix didn’t realize it yet—he’s been letting out his own pheromones, pushing them both dangerously close to losing control. Hyun-Jin’s brows furrow, jaw tight, and he swallows hard. He draws in a shuddering breath, fingers tightening once more before forcing himself to let go, because if he doesn’t—

“Felix,” He says much softer now, cupping the omega’s cheek. “I think that’s enough scenting for today, hmm?”

Felix nods, agreeing a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah—uh, we should. Thank you, for that—and this. I went a bit too far.”

“No, you’re fine.” Hyunjin says. “It’s only natural we’d both be affected.”

Felix nods again, his lip trembling slightly before he bites it hard, trying to ground himself. But despite his agreement, he’s hesitant to move—frozen, every muscle in his body coiled with tension. He can feel something stiff pressing against his ass, and his breath catches at the realization. It has to be uncomfortable for them both. But more than that, it’s a reminder of how close they’d come to letting go completely.

—.—.—

Jeongin sits at the edge of his bed, staring at the half-eaten meal on his desk, a muscle in his jaw twitching. The sunlight pouring through the window feels cold and grey, matching the hollow emptiness inside him. Seungmin enters the room quietly, carrying a tray of food, his gaze curious as it settles on Jeongin. “I’m surprised you’re not rotting in your bed like you did for the past week,” Seungmin remarks, his voice carefully neutral, though his eyes betray his worry. He glances at the desk, noting the picked-over meal—steamed carrots pushed to the side, rice half-eaten, and the meat almost untouched. “Though…it seems like you’re still not eating much.”

Jeongin’s shoulders stiffen. His eyes remain glued to the floor, refusing to meet Seungmin’s. “If you’re going to threaten to get Minho again or start a fight with me, you can leave.”

Seungmin sighs, exasperated. He sets the tray down on the small table by the bed. “Jeongin,” he starts, his tone softer this time. “When will you apologize to him?”

Jeongin scoffs, finally lifting his gaze, his expression a mixture of guilt and defiance. “Whenever I feel like it,” he mutters, his voice brittle. “He’s got enough attention from others these days. You think everyone doesn’t notice the assistants coming in and out of his room? The guards outside?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard the news already.” Seungmin’s brows furrow, his patience wearing thin. “He got stabbed yesterday,”

“Stabbed?” Jeongin’s head snaps up, eyes wide, his entire body going rigid. “By who?”

Seungmin sighs, watching him closely. “A rogue agent—some traitor from Felix’s side, I’m assuming, until we get updated by Hyunjin later on. Felix actually took Hyunjin’s place, pushing him from harm.”

Jeongin’s expression falters, and he suddenly looks distraught, shaken. “Felix…he—he saved him?” The words are soft, almost to himself, as doubt creeps in like a shadow.

Seungmin nods gravely. “Yeah. He did. He has to be escorted out with medical staff, and now he’s bedridden for a few days. Of course, we both know Hyunnin would’ve been perfectly fine had he been stabbed—too fine, matter of fact, but that doesn’t matter. Everyone, especially Jisung, is still shaken up about it. He was tasked with staying by Felix's side but he was too busy with Minho that they got separated.”

“I see,” Jeongin trails off. “So how is Felix doing now?”

“Better, thankfully.” Seungmin says simply. “But he could feel even better if you apologized for what happened with you and Irene. She’s been healed now, right? Why don’t you both come together and—“

“She doesn’t want to see me anymore.” Jeongin interrupts, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Seungmin’s brows knit together in surprise. “What?”

Jeongin’s eyes drop to the floor, and his fists ball tightly in his lap, knuckles white. His entire posture crumples, as though the weight of his own mistakes is finally too much to carry. “She—she said she doesn’t want to see me again. She and I aren’t on good—” His voice cracks, and he stops, suddenly remembering everything that transpired the day he and Felix fought.

As soon as Felix had been declared missing—shortly after their heated argument—and as soon as Hyunjin had found out and confronted him, everything had fallen apart. Irene had changed in an instant. When Jeongin had gone to check on her after Hyunjin had scolded the entire castle staff, punishing several—including him—for fighting Felix, he’d expected at least a word of gratitude. After all, he’d stood up for her, argued with Felix upon her poisoning, and tried to defend her. But instead of thanks, she’d turned on him with a viciousness that made his head spin.

“IT'S ALL OF YOUR FAULT!” She screamed. “If you hadn’t fought Felix, I wouldn’t have gotten in trouble! Now Hyunjin thinks I’m a danger to the royal family. I lost my friends because of you! I hate—”

Jeongin’s lips press into a thin line, his chest tight with the memory. He doesn’t even need to finish the sentence; the echo of her words still burns. The way she’d spat them at him—like he was nothing but a scapegoat for her mistakes—left him feeling betrayed and alone. They’d gotten into an argument shortly after, and for the first time, Jeongin had started to realize that maybe what Felix had said all along was right.

He’d thought he was defending Irene—protecting her from Felix’s supposed cruelty—but in the heat of that argument, it all started to unravel. The things she’d accused Felix of didn’t fully make sense, the way she’d dramatized herself to get sympathy, the way she’d always found a way to twist the story in her favor and paint herself as the victim—he saw it now, as if a veil had been lifted.

He’d taken her side blindly, thinking he was being loyal, but he hadn’t seen how she’d manipulated the situation, how she’d refused to take any responsibility for the way she’d treated Felix from the start. Now, with everything that had happened—the argument, Felix going missing, Hyunjin’s anger, and Irene’s cold betrayal—it all hit him like a stone to the chest. So yes, it was clear he needed to apologize—to Felix, for hurting him, for not listening, for accusing him. He wasn’t the real perpetrator in all of this; Irene had done plenty wrong, but he had let himself be used as her shield.

That was on him.

“Irene doesn’t matter right now. If you have anything to ask her, go ahead, not me. Though, I’m sure she won’t utter a single apology to Felix no matter how much convincing she’s given.”

“I suspected as much,” Seungmin sighs, his expression drawn with a mix of fatigue and disappointment. “But that means you need to step up and apologize on behalf of you both then.”

Jeongin’s eyes narrow, his jaw tight. “Why should I? He probably doesn’t even want to see me anymore.” His voice gives away the doubt picking and pulling at him. “I made a mess of everything. It’s too late for that.”

Seungmin’s gaze hardens, unwavering. “It’s never too late to take responsibility. If you don’t apologize—if you don’t at least try—then you’ll never get closure, and you’ll never be allowed back to knight practice.”

Jeongin flinches at that. He’d almost forgotten about knight practice, the place he’d always felt at home—where he could throw himself into training and forget about all the politics and the mess. The thought of being barred from it hurt more than he wanted to admit.

Seungmin softens, his voice turning calm and firm. “Felix deserves at least that much, Jeongin. Even if he doesn’t accept it, you owe him an apology. He still tried to defend your actions at the temple when Jisung pressed you for starting a fight with him over Irene’s collapse.”

Jeongin stares at the floor, struggling with himself, but a part of him knows Seungmin’s right. Even if Felix never wanted to see him again, even if it never changed anything, he had to at least try.

“…where is he now? Is he still in his room?” Jeongin’s voice is quiet, almost reluctant, as though he’s trying to sound more composed than he feels.

Seungmin’s eyes flicker with a hint of relief that Jeongin’s at least asking. “No—he’s in Hyunjin’s room.”

Jeongin’s face falls, his shoulders sagging. “Ah,” he murmurs, sinking further into himself. “Then…Hyunjin is likely there, too.”

Seungmin shakes his head. “No—he stepped out for a moment to inform his parents and Yeji about Felix’s condition. He’ll be back soon, though. If I were you, I’d hurry up and go. Jisung, however, is standing outside his room, so good luck with him.”

Jeongin’s gaze drifts to the floor, then back up at Seungmin. His jaw tightens, but there’s a flicker of resolve in his eyes now. Without another word, he leaves Seungmin behind and walks briskly down the corridor toward Hyunjin’s room, where Felix is resting.

As he approaches, the hallway feels too quiet—tense, like it’s holding its breath. His boots click on the polished floors, echoing in the silence until he sees Jisung standing outside the door, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jisung demands, shifting his weight to block the entrance. His brows are furrowed, and there’s a protective edge to his posture—like a wall Jeongin can’t quite breach.

Jeongin tries to keep his voice steady. “I—I need to talk to Felix.”

Jisung tilts his head, eyes narrowing. “Oh? Why? Haven’t you done enough to him already? Or are you here to blame him for something else?”

Jeongin’s jaw clenches. “I’m not here to fight, Jisung. I just…I need to apologize. I know I messed up. I just—please.” His voice cracks on the last word, a plea he didn’t intend to show.

Jisung stares at him a moment longer, as if weighing his words, then sighs. “He’s in there, but don’t think for a second I’ll let you hurt him again.”

Jeongin’s shoulders sag with relief. “I won’t. I swear.”

Jisung steps aside, but his glare doesn’t soften. “One wrong move, and I’ll drag you out myself.”

Jeongin nods, his breath shaky, then pushes the door open and steps inside—into the warm, quiet room that smells faintly of ginger tea and fresh linens. A few paces away, he sees Jennie—the new maid he’s heard about but hasn’t yet met—tidying up a stack of folded linens on a small table. She glances up, startled to see him standing there. Her eyes dart to Felix, then back to Jeongin. “Oh—Sir Jeongin,” She stammers politely, gathering her things. “I’ll leave you both alone.”

Without waiting for a response, she ducks her head and hurries out, closing the door softly behind her. Jeongin’s gaze shifts to Felix, who’s perched on the bed with his knees drawn up slightly, a blanket draped over his legs. His golden hair is mussed from sleep, and his eyes—wide, rimmed with fatigue—lock onto Jeongin with a tense expression that makes his stomach drop.

Felix freezes the second their eyes meet, every muscle in his body going tense. His lips part like he’s about to speak, but no words come out. The silence is deafening, pressing down on them both. Jeongin’s heart clenches at the sight. He steps forward, throat dry. “Felix…I—I know you probably don’t want to see me right now. But I came because I need to apologize for everything that happened between us and Irene.”

“You…you really think an apology is enough? For what you said?”

Jeongin flinches at the quiet, raw edge in Felix’s voice. “No,” he admits, voice breaking. “No, I don’t think it’s enough. But it’s all I can offer right now. I was wrong—so wrong. And I know I hurt you more than I can ever make up for.”

Felix nods. “You did,” He agrees. “You hurt me. You made me doubt myself. You made me feel like I was alone in that situation.”

“I know,” Jeongin says, voice thick. “And I’m sorry. I was blinded by…by her lies, by my own ignorance. But I swear, Felix, I’m trying to be better. I just—I couldn’t leave things like this. Not after everything that’s happened.”

“I…don’t know if I can forgive you. Not yet.”

Jeongin smiles, eyes full of regret. “That’s fair,” He says softly. “Take all the time you need. Just—please know I’m here now. And I’m on your side. I’ll try to talk with Irene, though she doesn’t even want to see me right now.”

Felix closes his eyes, pressing the heel of his palm against them. “Okay,” He says. “Okay.”

Jeongin stands there for a long moment, watching him with a mixture of relief and sorrow, knowing that healing would take time—and that he’d have to prove his words through actions, not just apologies. Swallowing hard, Jeongin steps back, his voice low. “I’ll…I’ll give you space,” He says quietly, his throat thick. “I hope you feel better soon, I’m sorry for what happened. If you ever need anything, I’ll be here.”

Felix doesn’t respond, only tugs the blanket tighter around himself, his gaze dropping to his lap. Jeongin’s chest feels like it’s caving in, but he forces himself to leave. He slips out of the room, shutting the door behind him as gently as possible. Outside, he’s met with three pairs of eyes—Hyunjin, Jisung, and Minho. Hyunjin’s arms are crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable but his jaw tense. Jisung leans against the wall with a frown, his foot tapping anxiously on the stone floor. Minho’s eyes are curious, his gaze flicking between Jeongin and the door he just exited.

The silence stretches for a moment, thick with tension. “Did you really—” Hyunjin starts.

Jeongin nods, his shoulders slumping. “I apologized and he listened,” He mutters. “But I don’t think he’s ready to forgive me yet.”

Jisung tilts his head, scrutinizing Jeongin. “Good,” He says bluntly. “Forgiveness isn’t something you get for free. You’ve got to earn it, Jeongin.”

Jeongin sighs. “I know. I intend to.”

Hyunjin sighs, his expression shifting from stern to exhausted, the weight of recent events evident in the lines of his face. “Well, at least you finally faced him,” he says, his tone measured but tinged with relief. He studies Jeongin for a moment, as if gauging the depth of his resolve. Then his gaze hardens slightly. “I’ll get you back into training soon,” he continues, his voice firmer now. “And with that, I expect you won’t make the same mistakes again.”

Jeongin nods, a small spark of determination lighting in his eyes. “I won’t,” He promises, and that is that.

Just then, Minho, who’s been standing quietly to the side, steps forward. His eyes meet Hyunjin’s with a clinical sharpness. “If you’re finished with him,” he says, “I’d like to go in and check on Felix’s injuries—and have our appointment. I’m still his physician, and we need to follow up.”

Hyunjin’s brows draw together. “Can I come in and stay by his side? I want to know what you’re going to talk about.”

Minho lifts an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You very much could, I’m not allowed to prevent you from doing so—but that would put more stress on the prince, and I’m sure you don’t want that. I can assure you it’s not something you need to worry about, however. We'll only chat about his injury log.” He answers. “Trust me, Hyunjin. It’s best for his comfort if you let me handle this privately.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens, and he fights the urge to argue. But he sees the logic—Felix doesn’t need more eyes on him, not after everything he’s been through. With a reluctant nod, he steps aside. “Alright. But let me know if anything comes up that I should be aware of.”

“Of course,” Minho grins before walking inside, shutting the door behind him. Once inside, he crosses the room and settles into the armchair next to Felix’s bed, his posture relaxed but observant. Felix, curled beneath his blanket, watches him with cautious eyes. Minho flicks a glance at his clipboard, then back at Felix. “We’ve met enough times now for you to not be so wary of me,” he says lightly, though his tone carries a hint of apology. “But then again, I understand I’m not always the best at making people feel at ease.”

Felix’s eyes drop, his fingers twisting in the blanket. He’s quiet for a moment before Minho speaks again. “Can you lift up your shirt so I can see the bandage?” Minho asks gently, but his request makes Felix flinch. His shoulders tense, but he nods, hands trembling slightly as he carefully lifts the fabric to reveal the bandaged wound. Minho’s eyes soften, and he sets his clipboard aside for a moment.

“Take your time,” he adds, voice low and calm. “I just want to make sure it’s healing properly.”

Felix’s hands tremble as he lifts his shirt, exposing the neatly wrapped bandage around his side. Minho leans forward, peeling the tape back and gently removing the dressing. The wound beneath is healing but it needs a lot more time. Minho reaches for a small container of ointment after, his gloved hands dipping into it before rubbing it on his side. “Have you been taking the medicine I prescribed a few weeks ago for scent exposure?”

Felix’s eyes squeeze shut at the chill on his skin, his throat bobbing. “Yeah,” he says, barely above a whisper. “But it’s starting to wear off quicker than I expected. My heat’s in two days, and I can already feel it building.”

Minho pauses mid-motion, his gaze sharp. “Two days? That’s cutting it close. Are you prepared for that?”

Felix’s stomach churns as realization hits him. “I’m not sure. My family…they’re supposed to arrive soon,” he murmurs, the words thick with dread. The thought of them seeing him like that—vulnerable, half in heat—sends a spike of panic through his chest.

Minho’s eyes soften. “We can talk about some options for that,” He says, continuing to gently clean the wound. “But let’s get this wrapped first. You don’t need to see them at your weakest if we can help it.”

“Then, Is there any possibility… you could induce it today?”

Minho pauses mid-wrap, the fresh bandage half-secured as he looks up slowly. His eyes search Felix’s face for a long moment, processing what he’s just heard. “You want me to—” He cuts himself off, eyebrows lifting, genuinely surprised. “You want to induce your heat? Today?”

Felix nods, quickly, almost ashamed. “I’d just… like to get it over with before my family arrives,” he murmurs. “I’d rather not suddenly start it around them… it’s unsavory. Inconvenient. Embarrassing.” His throat tightens as he speaks, and he looks away. “I know I probably sound stupid for asking this. Especially with the risks, but I—”

“I could,” Minho interrupts gently, the edge of his voice grounding. He sits back, pulling off his gloves. “But…” He exhales, “You understand that will be very dangerous.”

Felix swallows hard. “I can handle it,” He says. “I already have painful heats, so it should be fine.”

“Still, even if your tolerance is high, it won’t just be pain,” Minho warns. “You’ll be forcing your body into something it’s already preparing for, but not ready to process yet. You might feel feverish, nauseous, disoriented…abandoning your senses. There will be no preheat to prepare, you’ll go straight into it.”

“I still want it,” He says. “I’d rather hurt now than later—especially in front of them.”

Especially in front of Jiho.

His stomach turns at the thought, bile rising to the back of his throat. If he were to go into heat while his family was present—while Jiho was present—he knows exactly what would happen. Jiho would find some excuse to hover. He always did. He’d brush past Felix too closely in the halls, linger in conversations that didn’t need him, let his fingers graze too long. And it always got worse when Jiho knew heat was near. His eyes would darken, his tone would change—affectionate, but in that unhinged, skin-crawling way that made Felix feel more like prey than a person.

Back at the castle, the first time Jiho had ever caught wind of his pre-heat scent, it was because a maid forgot to lock his door. He remembers it vividly—how Jiho stepped in, eyes half-lidded under the pretense of delivering a message from the court. But his voice was too smooth, too rehearsed. He didn’t even bother hiding the way he looked at him. The scent had filled the room like syrup, and Jiho breathed it in like it was a drug. His hand had reached for Felix’s wrist—light, but possessive—and his body had leaned in too close, lips parting like he might say something, or worse…do something.

For a terrifying moment, Felix was sure he’d be marked. The air had gone heavy, suffocating—and he had struggled on his grasp—then, by some miracle, a maid entered. She froze at the sight, eyes narrowing, and quietly but firmly told Jiho he shouldn’t be there. Jiho left reluctantly, the look he shot Felix on the way out still haunting. Felix hasn’t let anyone forget to lock his door since. When he told his parents in a quiet, trembling voice what had happened—they didn’t react the way he needed them to. His mother had waved a hand and barely looked up from her correspondence. “Jiho is just fond of you,” She had said, like that explained everything. “You’ve both been attached since childhood, so stop being so sensitive, Felix. Don’t read into it so much.”

And his father…his father didn’t even bother responding directly. He merely muttered something about how they should all learn to get along, how Jiho was loyal to the family and that was all that mattered. Felix still remembers the way his stomach dropped at those words—how small he felt in that moment. As if he were the one making trouble, not Jiho. As if noticing the wrongness was the real offense. They made him feel dramatic for even bringing it up. So he didn’t bring it up again. Instead, he locked his door tighter, kept the windows shut, and hoped it wouldn’t happen again. 

Chapter Text

After that question, Minho stares at him for a long, long time. His expression doesn’t shift at first, but Felix can see the gears turning behind his eyes. He’s weighing every pro and con, and judging by the way his brow furrows deeper by the second, the cons are winning. In his twenty-five years as the royal family’s doctor, Minho has dealt with fevers, poisonings, combat wounds, miscarriages—but he’s never once had to induce a heat cycle. For Felix to come to him like this, with that quiet desperation in his voice and fear behind his eyes…it says more than a dozen explanations ever could.

“Fine,” Minho says at last, sighing as he pulls the gloves tighter on his hands. “I can do that for you. But if I agree to this, I’ll be assigning you private care during the entire duration—someone watching you closely in case anything goes wrong. Induced heats aren’t easy, Felix. You’ll be vulnerable, and not just physically.”

Felix nods quickly, too quickly, like he’s already made peace with that pain. Minho exhales again, slower this time. “To even begin the process, I’ll need the proper materials—and you’ll also need to notify Hyunjin.”

That makes Felix’s heart drop.

“You’re his partner,” Minho continues, tone gentler now. “If I do this without telling him, he’ll have every right to lose his mind. He’d think I went behind his back and hurt you. And frankly, he might not be wrong. So I suggest you speak to him first—tell him what you want, why you want it. If you can get his support, I’ll proceed.”

“Okay, I’ll…I’ll talk to him. Can you send him in?”

Minho watches him for a moment longer, gauging the tremble in his voice, the way his body seems caught between bracing and crumbling. But he only nods. “I’ll let him know.” He stands, gathering his clipboard and bag. At the door, he pauses and glances back. “Felix,” He says, voice low but firm. “Whatever you tell him—make sure it’s the truth. Don’t hide what you’re afraid of. He deserves to know. And you deserve to be understood.”

Felix nods faintly, staring down at his lap.

Then the door clicks shut behind Minho.

He’s left alone in the soft silence of the room, the ache in his lower stomach beginning to pulse again—hot, low, and insistent. Shame creeps up his spine like ivy, and he draws the blanket tighter around himself, as if that’ll keep it at bay.

A few minutes pass.

Then, another soft knock.

And the door opens.

Hyunjin steps inside, and immediately Felix’s chest tightens. He’s still dressed in his formal wear, the lapels slightly wrinkled like he’d been pacing outside. His eyes lock onto Felix’s immediately, concern already written across his face. “Minho said you needed me,” Hyunjin says carefully, shutting the door behind him. “Is everything okay?”

Felix swallows hard, mouth suddenly dry. It was easier to tell Minho his wishes—clinical, detached. But now, with Hyunjin standing before him, everything feels raw and vulnerable. “I…” He starts, his voice catching in his throat. He tries again, steadier this time. “I’d like to ask Minho to induce my heat today.”

Hyunjin doesn’t move. His expression shifts, only slightly—eyebrows drawing together, lips parting, just enough for a small intake of breath. “I know the risks,” Felix adds quickly, wringing the blanket in his hands. “But I think it’s for the best. I only have two more days until it actually begins, but if it happens then…it will cut into the week my family arrives. And I’d rather they not see me in that state, so—” his voice drops, trembling, “I hope you can understand.”

There’s a long silence. The weight of it presses into Felix’s chest. Hyunjin finally walks forward, slowly, like approaching something fragile. He kneels beside the bed instead of sitting, so he can be level with Felix. His hand gently finds Felix’s, still knotted in the blanket. “I do understand,” He says softly. “And I hate that this is something you feel you have to do…for them. But if this is truly what you want, and it’s what will make you feel safer, then I’ll support it. I just care that you’re not alone when it does. Will you let me stay with you through it? At least be near?”

Felix contemplates that. “What about your rut? Wouldn’t you be affected..?”

“Yes,” Hyunjin admits quietly. “I would be affected. But that’s not anything to worry about,” Hyunjin adds. “What happens to me during your heat—what I feel—should never come before your safety or comfort. If being near me makes it worse for you, if it adds even a sliver of fear, then I’ll stay away.” His voice tightens with conviction, but there’s also something else—something almost ashamed, buried deep in the softness of his tone. “I can also take medication and the necessary precautions to hinder any intense effects,” He continues, “But I know how it feels to be…overwhelmed. I’ve also seen what happens when someone uses that state as an excuse to hurt others.” His jaw clenches subtly. “I’ll never be like that with you or anyone else.”

Felix looks at him—truly looks. Hyunjin’s sincerity sits heavy in the air, wrapping around the moment like a quiet vow. And still, the doubt claws at Felix’s chest. Not doubt in Hyunjin, but in himself. In what this heat could make him become. “I just…” Felix swallows thickly. “I don’t want you to see me like that. I get—I get really desperate and it makes me cringe as soon as I snap out of it.”

“Then let me remind you there’s nothing shameful about needing someone,” Hyunjin murmurs. “Nothing shameful about wanting to be touched, or held, or helped through pain. If you lose yourself for a while, I’ll still be here. I won’t judge you. I won’t leave.”

“Okay…but—” He hesitates, avoiding Hyunjin’s eyes. “Can you wait outside the room until I call for you? I—I just need a little time. To try to handle it. I want to grasp how painful it’ll be,”

Hyunjin’s expression softens, and he nods without protest. “Of course. When you call for me, I’ll come.”

Felix smiles. “Thank you.” His body aches, the heat curling tight in his stomach, but the knowledge that Hyunjin will be there—close, but respectful—eases some of the pressure in his chest.

(For now).

Once everything is confirmed, Hyunjin quietly steps out of the room and finds Minho in the corridor, casually speaking with Jisung and reassuring him that Felix is healing well. As soon as he notices Hyunjin, Minho gives Jisung a nod and walks over, motioning for them to speak privately a few steps away. “Are you fine with it all?” Minho asks first, watching Hyunjin carefully.

Hyunjin hesitates, but nods. “I am. It’s his choice. I won’t interfere with that. But…” He exhales, gaze turning back to the door. “I want to be here for him. In case he needs me. He’s still injured, after all.”

Minho lifts a brow. “Be here?” A slow grin spreads across his face. “Be here, and possibly fall into a rut right next to him?”

“I’ll take anything you can give me to lower the chances,” Hyunjin says seriously. “Suppressants, sedatives, blockers—I don’t care. Just give me something.”

Minho chuckles under his breath. “Now that I think of it, that’s even more dangerous, no? You’ve used your powers constantly these past few weeks, your body’s been under enormous stress, and your scent’s already been tangled up with Felix’s—how many times now? That kind of strain, combined with suppressants—your next rut could hit like a freight train.”

The news doesn’t shock Hyunjin. “Please, Minho. I’m asking as his partner.”

Minho narrows his eyes slightly, watching the tension settle into Hyunjin’s shoulders. There’s a kind of desperation in his voice that makes the doctor sigh. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“I can’t,” Hyunjin answers honestly. “We both know he’s going to need help.”

“And yet, you’ve never been this close emotionally to an omega before.” Minho says dryly. “It doesn’t matter how much restraint you think you have. One moment you’ll be in control, and another—his scent hits, instinct takes over, and you’re gone.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches. “That’s why I want you to give me something that’ll dull it. Just enough to stop anything from fully starting.”

Minho studies him for a long moment, sighs, then finally relents with a nod. “Okay. But if you lose control, if I even sense that you’re too far to think straight—I’m getting someone to drag you out of that room.”

“I understand,” Hyunjin agrees. “I’ll take that risk.”

As late evening cloaks the sky in a pale indigo veil, the castle subtly shifts into preparation. The corridor leading to Felix’s chamber is sectioned off with dividers and protective enchantments, soft golden ribbons hanging from the entryway to signal restricted access. Guards—specifically Betas and those trained to remain unaffected by pheromones—take their positions at all four ends of the corridor. Their postures are stiff, alert, eyes forward. None of them speak. They’ve been briefed thoroughly, and their job is to make sure no one enters.

Two maids—one being Jennie—linger within, stationed outside Felix’s door, hands clasped in front of their aprons, ready to be summoned if called—but strictly under orders. No one, not even the Hyunjin himself, is permitted to enter without Felix’s explicit request. Inside the room, the air is cold and still. Candles are dimmed low, casting the room in a quiet amber glow. Felix sits on the bed, his legs drawn up, silk robe wrapped around him. His throat works in a hard swallow as Minho stands in front of him beside the bed, holding out a small white capsule between gloved fingers. The pill glows faintly, laced with crushed healing crystals that shimmer just beneath its surface.

“This will prep your body,” Minho says calmly. “It’ll ease inflammation around your scent glands and help regulate hormonal spikes. You may still feel everything intensely, but the physical toll won’t be as damaging. Hopefully. As soon as you take it I'll leave the room. You’ll feel the heat slowly start to pulse through your system—first in your stomach, then lower. Try to keep breathing through it.”

Felix nods again, tighter this time. “How long until it starts?”

“Five minutes,” Minho says. “Maybe less.”

Felix nods wordlessly, reaching out to take the pill with trembling fingers. He hesitates—then places it on his tongue and swallows it dry. Minho leaves shortly after as promised, the door clicking shut behind him like the seal of fate. The room is still. Quiet. The lanterns glow with soft golden light, casting gentle shadows against the high stone walls, and for a brief moment, Felix almost convinces himself he’ll be fine. That he’s strong enough, and it’s no different from what he’d usually go through on a normal cycle.

He laces his fingers tightly in his lap, shoulders rigid. His heart drums nervously in his chest, and his lips are slightly parted from shallow, anxious breaths. The crystal-infused pill Minho gave him had tasted oddly metallic when he swallowed it, and even now, he feels it melting through him, activating something ancient, primal, and utterly beyond his control.

Within five minutes, it starts as planned. The first wave comes softly—almost like a whisper against his skin. A subtle flush crawls up the back of his neck and settles beneath his cheeks. A warmth flutters low in his abdomen, and Felix breathes in slowly, bracing himself. This is manageable, he tells himself, even as his fingers curl against the bedsheets. But the second wave comes with no such mercy.

It hits him like a wall of fire—sudden, suffocating, brutal. His body arches involuntarily as the heat slams through him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry. The warmth that had just begun to stir turns vicious, searing from the inside out like molten iron poured into his veins. Sweat breaks instantly across his brow. His stomach twists violently as nausea grips him, and the room spins hard enough to make him sway where he lies.

His robe starts to cling to his skin, quickly damping with sweat. His scent glands pulse angrily now, throbbing with need, irritated and sensitive, releasing a thick, syrupy aroma into the room that makes his own head spin—sweet, ripe, like crushed vanilla and blossoms. The pain is everywhere. In his gut, clenching and cramping so hard he can barely breathe. In his lower back, throbbing deep and low like something is clawing to get out. His thighs tense uncontrollably as his muscles twitch, his body unable to process what it’s being forced through.

Felix lets out a small, broken sound, barely audible, and covers his mouth with the back of his hand to muffle it. Tears prick the corners of his eyes and slip down his temples as he pants through clenched teeth, trying not to make a sound. It hurts. it hurts. it hurts—

He shifts, on his stomach, hips shifting restlessly and dragging across the sheets, but it’s not enough. The friction burns, but it doesn’t satisfy. His boxers cling damply to his skin, and he lets out another muffled cry, arching slightly. His thighs press together as if trying to contain it, but the ache is spreading—deeper now, pulsing between his legs, unbearable in its insistence, and suddenly, he feels something leak from his asshole. He doesn’t even have to feel or look to know it’s slick. He can feel it quickly spreading beneath him, coating his inner thighs, sticking to the sheets in an embarrassing mess. With trembling hands, he carefully bends and reaches down, sliding his boxers down his hips and discarding them to the side.

And as if on que, a dizzying, overwhelming rush comes over him. Nausea sits under his temples like static, boiling just beneath the surface. He shakes his head and blinks rapidly, but it doesn’t help. He’s disoriented, swimming in heat and scent and dizziness, thoughts falling apart like wet paper the moment he tries to focus on them. He tries to breathe. Tries to remember where he is. But his mind slips further and further, dragged down into that gnawing ache inside him that no longer just begs to be filled—it screams for it.

Eventually, his hand slips down, trembling fingers wrapping around himself. His entire body jerks in response. The touch is raw—harsh, overstimulating, not even remotely soothing. There’s pleasure, yes. But it’s twisted with something worse. Over-sensitization, panic, shame—his nerves are lit up like a frayed wire, too tender to be touched and yet desperate to be handled. It feels like his body is punishing him for even trying to seek relief—like scratching a mosquito bite. And even as he does manage to come, spilling hot and thick over his hand, it doesn’t do much.

He’s never been able to get through a heat without medication. And even when the suppressants dull the edge, the ache still lingers like a ghost under his skin. Back in the Sunshine Kingdom, he would be in his room for days—wrapped in sweaty sheets, biting into pillows, his skin raw from fever and friction, just trying to survive the storm. There were stretches of time he didn’t remember. Episodes where the pain became so unbearable that he passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Castle doctors had no answers for him. No remedies that truly helped. Some said it was just his biology. Some whispered about instability, about “rare cases.” Others simply turned him away with pity in their eyes. He never wanted their pity. He just wanted this agony to end. But it just stretches on—hours blurring into an endless cycle—and all he can do is sob and pray for unconsciousness sometimes without help. The worst part was, no one would ever tell him the truth.

Not really.

The doctors always said the same things with tight smiles and darting eyes—

“Irregular heats aren’t uncommon.”

“Some omegas have…heightened responses. You could just be more sensitive than others.”

“There’s no need to worry yet, young master.”

Yet.

But Felix could always feel the weight in their words, the silent something they refused to say. The quick glances they exchanged when they thought he wasn’t looking. The urgency whenever they adjusted his prescriptions or pulled his blood for more tests. As if they were always just one step ahead of a truth they refused to say out loud. He was only a kid back then, confused and desperate, too scared to press for answers. And now, curled up and wrecked by a heat twice as worse than usual, he wonders if he should have. Wonders, if possibly, it has anything to do with the fact he’s called “the child of the sun” and has powers no one has anymore.

But it’s too late to chase those answers now.

He sobs again. His fingers twitch weakly near his thighs, but he can’t bring himself to touch himself again; Not when pleasure becomes pain the moment it flares too bright. Rather, he needs to be filled, to be touched, to be held down and relieved until there’s nothing left but trembling silence. He needs an alpha—

Hyunjin.

Felix whimpers just at the thought of him. The name lingers in his mind, heavier than it should be. It feels shameful on his tongue—not because he doesn’t want Hyunjin—but because he does, and that ache twists alongside the deeper one ravaging his body. He needs his scent, his warmth, the way he looks at him like nothing else in the world matters. He imagines what it would feel like—his fingers, long and careful, calloused from swordsmanship but gentle when they trace over Felix’s skin. The way he would whisper reassurances against the shell of his ear, scent thick and grounding, grounding, grounding. His scent alone might soothe the dizzying nausea curdling under Felix’s ribs. It would flood over him like a balm, steadying, until he wasn’t shaking so violently anymore. Hyunjin would kiss his temple. Hold his waist steady. Press his palm between his thighs and tell him to breathe.

Felix lets out a soft whimper just at the thought.

Not even with Chan.

Their relationship, as long as it lasted, always drew a clear, cautious line. Chan was careful. Felix was hesitant. There were rules, boundaries, pills, distance. No shared heats. No exposure. No vulnerability. They kept things clean. Safe. Controlled—under the contract to only be intimate once the trial engagement was over, and they never came to be. But now…Now, there are no limitations.

Now he has Hyunjin. He has an alpha. A partner. Someone he trusts—who could be here, right now, holding him through this, scenting him, filling him. Hyunjin has stayed. Through every warning, through every scare, through every messy, broken inch of him. And it’s so clear—painfully clear—how he wants him. Even when he tries not to show it, Felix knows. He knows it from the way Hyunjin blushes at the simplest of kisses, his breath hitching when his fingers skim down his chest. He knows it from the way Hyunjin melts when he hugs him in the library or holds his hand in the garden. From the lust in his gaze when he lingers too close for too long. And he always feels it—the subtle way his hips shift beneath him, the warmth that builds, the hardness that presses faintly against his thigh when he’s sat in his lap on some late night.

“Hyunjin,” Felix calls before he even realizes it. It falls from his lips like instinct, soft and pitiful. He buries his face into the pillow, biting down hard on his lip, but the name slips out again—louder this time. There’s a part of him that’s still fighting it, still clinging to his last threads of composure. But it’s unraveling fast, thoughts crumbling like ash the longer he tries to keep control. As much as he doesn’t want Hyunjin to see him like this—ruined, needy, crying—he can’t handle it anymore.

The door swings open almost immediately, and then, a voice—low, near frantic. “Felix?”

The moment he steps past the threshold, it hits him—Felix’s scent. It’s like being struck, a visceral, heady wave of heat-drenched musk that clings to the air like smoke. Sweet, desperate, and impossibly thick. It coils in his lungs and clouds his senses, making his breath hitch.

Gaze narrowing to the bed, he sees him sprawled out in the sheets—golden hair tousled and clinging to his damp forehead. His cheeks are flushed a deep, fevered red, lips parted as he pants shallowly, struggling through the oppressive weight of his own heat. The robe he wore earlier hangs askew on his body, slipped low off one bare shoulder. The fabric, already loosened by restless movement, has twisted and bunched around his hips, sheer enough in the dim light to reveal the tight curve of his chest, the way his nipples stand firm against the fevered air.

Hyunjin takes a step forward. He’s trying to breathe past the scent, trying to ground himself in something—anything—before instinct claws too deep. He’s taken suppressants, focused his mind, even made sure to wear blockers over every gland beneath his skin so he wouldn’t take in his scent as much. But Felix—Felix, who smells like every fantasy he’s ever buried, like heat and sweetness and unbearable need—seems to make none of that matter.

And before he can say a word—Felix moves. He lurches forward off the bed, stumbling right into his arms. His fingers clutch at his chest, curling into the fabric of his shirt, his body trembling as he presses up against him like he can’t stand on his own for long. Hyunjin supports him automatically, arms securing around him as if it’s instinct. “Felix—hey, careful,” He murmurs, eyes scanning his flushed face. “You shouldn’t be—”

And then—he feels it.

His hand brushes along Felix’s upper thigh, meaning only to support him—but instead it meets something wet. His entire body locks in place once he realizes Felix is bare beneath the robe. No pants. No underwear. Just soft, sweat-slicked skin and thighs soaked with slick that smears against Hyunjin’s fingers like warm honey. It’s obscene. Debauched. And instantly, heat spikes down his spine with a dizzying intensity that makes his knees nearly buckle. He forces himself to snap out of it quickly, though nothing—nothing—could’ve prepared him for the sheer force of wanting that crashes over him now.

“I—I’m sorry,” Felix whispers, barely audible. “I tried—I didn’t want to—but it hurts, it hurts so bad…”

Hyunjin’s breath hitches. “You don’t have to apologize,” He murmurs, voice soothing. “You called for me cause you needed help, and that’s enough.”

After a moment, Felix reaches up and grips at his collar with trembling hands, weak fingers curling tight in the fabric as if it might give him what he needs. He pulls, trying to drag him closer, closer—his strength barely there, but fueled by something primal, instinctive. He rises to his toes, lips brushing Hyunjin’s neck where his scent usually tends to be the strongest. But there’s nothing. Nothing but the muted, sterile smell of scent blockers.

He presses closer, inhaling sharply, as if maybe—maybe it’s just faint, maybe it’s hidden beneath layers—But it’s not. It’s not there at all. His lips tremble and his eyes begin to glisten, wide and wet. The tears spill silently at first, soaking into the fabric of his shirt as a soft, devastated sound slips from Felix’s throat. “I can’t smell you…” He whispers, voice cracking. “I can’t—I need it. I need you.” His fevered skin shivers where it touches bare collarbone, and he breathes in again, a little broken whimper escaping. “Please, just once. Just a little. I need your scent—Hyunjin, please…”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches. “Felix…I can’t.” His voice is tight with restraint. “Minho made me wear them. If I take them off, and my rut hits early—”

“But I need it,” Felix insists, hot and shaky against his skin. “Just a little, please—just something.” His fingers curl tighter into Hyunjin’s collar. “I know he did. I know. But I can't take this anymore. You’re here, and I can’t even have your scent—” He’s starting to unravel, shamefully so, but he couldn’t care less at the moment.

With a quiet curse, Hyunjin reaches up and peels back the collar of his shirt, fingers slipping beneath the faint seam where the scent blocker rests against his pulse. It's just enough, barely anything. But the moment he does, Felix’s breath stutters and his entire body softens as his scent comes through in small amounts. Felix buries his nose into the exposed skin like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. His lips brush Hyunjin’s throat as he inhales again and again—rather greedily.

“Now let me get you back to the bed, hmm?” Hyunjin’s voice is low, patient, but lined with tension—like a wire pulled tight and ready to snap. He dares to slide his arms under Felix, lifting him effortlessly off the ground. The moment Felix’s legs wrap around him in return, however, something in his restraint falters. Because Felix is moving. Not intentionally, maybe—not consciously—but his hips are shifting, grinding ever so subtly against Hyunjin’s front with every breathless twitch. His chest rises and falls against Hyunjin’s, sweat-slick skin sliding beneath the loose fabric of his robe, and his soft, bitten lips are brushing against his neck. Not kissing, not really—just mouthing, sucking, and licking at his scent gland that makes the hairs at the back of Hyunjin’s neck stand on end.

“Felix,” Hyunjin warns under his breath, jaw tight. He doesn’t mean it to sound sharp, but it does. When he reaches the bed, he bends down to lower Felix back into the sheets, but Felix whines and his arms only cling tighter, legs refusing to unhook from his waist. Hyunjin stills, crouched halfway over the mattress, hands pressing into the bed at the sides of Felix’s head.

“Please—please, do something—touch me—”

Hyunjin swallows, arms tightening gently around him. “I will,” He says, voice soft and careful. “I promise, and I’ll stay with you and help however I can. I’m worried you’ll irritate your injury more by moving so much.”

Felix suddenly pauses at that—blinks up at him, dazed, like he’s only just remembered that pain was part of this too. Hesitantly, reluctantly, he lets Hyunjin ease him back down onto the bed, limbs slow and sluggish. But his hands don’t let go. They stay fisted in the front of Hyunjin’s shirt, clutching him like a lifeline. His eyes, blown wide and dark, stay locked on Hyunjin’s face. And with his flushed cheeks and sweat-slick hair spilling out around him like gold, he looks heartbreakingly fragile—like something divine fallen too hard.

And before he can think better of it, he leans down and presses his lips to Felix’s. It's soft at first, but it deepens fast, like the dam finally breaking. Felix arches into it, mouth parting with a faint, needy gasp, and Hyunjin drinks in every bit of it—every moan, every exhale. His mouth is hot and eager, lips parting against his skin, tongue flicking out in quick, teasing licks between kisses. His hand finds Felix’s chest, fingers splayed across warm skin, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart beneath the thin robe. His thumb brushes just under the area of his ribs, not quite teasing, but reverent—like he’s trying to memorize the shape of him through touch alone, and also to check on the wound there. The wound from Seoyeon is still there, blooming dark beneath fevered skin, and he lingers there longer than he should, his fingers gentle, careful.

Felix shudders at the contact, not from the pain but the way Hyunjin touches him—he’d do anything to have his touch other places right now.

“Tell me what you want,” Hyunjin murmurs once he pulls away, wiping the spit from the corner of Felix’s lips with the pad of his thumb. His voice is low, thick with restraint, his gaze searching. “I need to hear you say it,”

Felix’s lips part, but for a moment, nothing comes out. He just stares, eyes glassy and wide, like he’s lost in the heat and can’t find the words. But then, in a breathless whisper, he manages, “I want you.”

Felix says before digging his teeth into his lip hard. He attempts to clear the thickening fog from his head so he doesn’t sound completely delirious and unable to give consent, but it barely lightens. “I want your hands,” He says shakily. “Your scent. Your mouth. Anything—everything. Just…please. Make it stop hurting. Give me your knot, fuck me—“

Hyunjin shushes him softly with a finger over his mouth. “I’m unable to do that last thing,” He grins. “Everything else, yes. As I said, you shouldn’t be put through too much movement right now. I’d be sad if I accidentally injured you more.”

“Injure me more?”

“I can’t promise I’ll be gentle, if I…knot you. As much as I’d like to be.” Hyunjin admits, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh,” Felix breathes, his voice barely above a whisper. If the alpha were to push inside him, grab his hips, then—his wound might reopen. That wouldn’t go well then, but still. Still. His cheeks flush a deeper red as he shifts under Hyunjin’s gaze, thighs pressing together instinctively as he feels slick pool beneath him. A soft, almost broken sound escapes him as he turns his face to the side, avoiding the weight of those eyes—eyes that seem to see right through him.

Hyunjin doesn’t move for a moment. He only watches—the way Felix trembles beneath him, the way his fingers curl into the sheets like he’s clinging to something solid while his body spirals more out of control. Then, he leans closer, his voice brushing against Felix’s ear. “Don't try to hide, lix,” He practically purrs, smiling at him. “I know how wet you are. I can smell it, you know,”

Felix’s gulps. His body is aching, burning—and it’s Hyunjin’s voice, somehow lustful and sincere, that makes the feeling increase tenfold. There’s no mockery, no teasing edge. “I want to take care of you,” Hyunjin adds, brushing a hand gently over Felix’s thigh. “I want you to feel good—really good. But only if you let me, so I can’t have you covering yourself up like this. I need you to be comfortable. Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Felix nods, a little too quickly.

“Good,” Hyunjin leans back and captures his lips again. The action is even gentler than before, though the way he forces Felix’s thighs back open is anything but gentle.

And that’s how it begins. 

Chapter Text

Hyunjin unties the loop on Felix’s robe to expose more of his beautiful freckled skin, and Felix squirms, brings an arm up to cover his eyes. He's entirely revealed now, stripped bare, the air cool against his sensitive, sopping core, and it’s more embarrassing then he thought. He shouldn’t be this wet, really, like an uncontrollable, sorry thing with a mind plagued of lust. He just couldn’t help it; couldn’t help but anticipate and hope and yearn.

“My stars, look at you,” Hyunjin groans, “You’re so wet.”

“Stop staring,” Felix grits out, flushing hard, “do something..”

“Mhm, of course,” Hyunjin coos. He slides a hand - his perfectly large, long fingered hand that Felix wants used for many, many things - and squeezes at his thigh near the place he needs his touch most. When Hyunjin leans down, Felix thinks—expects—that he’s going to wrap his mouth around him. But he doesn't stop there, no. He goes lower. And Felix barely has time to adjust before Hyunjin shoves his thighs up higher and swipes his tongue firmly across his entrance—slow and indulgent, like he’s savoring the taste. (And he is, god, he most definitely is.) Felix is sweet and naturally clean, and he eats him out like a man starved of everything.

“Oh, fuck—“ Felix chokes on his breath. His entire body jerks, hands flying up to clutch at something, anything—one at the sheets, another pulling Hyunjin’s hair. His thighs instinctively try to close—but Hyunjin keeps them apart with a firm, tight grip, tongue moving in thorough circles. He explores every fluttering part of him, dipping in shallowly before dragging back out.

And Felix feels like he can’t breathe. Can’t think.

Every nerve in his body is alight, burning from the inside out. There’s no hesitation, no gentleness left in the way he devours him. It’s filthy. Intimate. And it’s something he’s never had done to him before. “Hyun—Hyunjin, I—ah, please—” He shudders, his voice breaking as his head falls back against the pillows. Hyunjin hums low in his throat, a little too pleased with the response he’s getting, the vibration making Felix jolt. One of his hands moves to grip Felix’s waist, pinning him down as he sucks hard.

“Haa,” Felix drawls out. “Don’t stop. Please—I’m gonna—”

Hyunjin dives in deeper, tongue thrusting, dragging along his rim with a manner that’s disgustingly perfect. Felix cries out moments later, loud and broken as he comes, whole body tensing and then falling apart completely. He’s still shaking when he feels the shift—Hyunjin pulling back just slightly, breath warm and heavy against the mess between his legs. He doesn’t even have time to catch up before he feels fingers press gently against his rim. Hyunjin pushes one finger in, slow and careful, and Felix’s back arches with a broken sound. There’s barely any resistance—just slick heat and a pulse every so often.

Hyunjin presses in deeper, then begins to move—slowly drags in and out, curling slightly until Felix lets out a desperate little sound. “That’s it,” Hyunjin says, low and steady. “Right there, hm? Do you like that?” He does it again, more precise this time—targeted—and Felix’s body jerks, mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Sweat beads at his temples, slicking his hair back as he trembles beneath the touch. Felix can’t even answer. His mouth falls open uselessly, sweat dampening his temples, body twitching as Hyunjin finds the perfect angle again—and again.

Then comes a second finger.

He stretches him gently, easing it in with care, but once he’s settled, the rhythm changes—deeper, more purposeful, knuckles brushing the edge of his hole with every movement. The sound is wet, obscene, made worse by the way Felix whimpers at each thrust of his fingers. Each push of his fingers meant to prepare, to pleasure, not just to satisfy. It makes Felix ache more, tremble more, his whole body straining toward the next touch, the next stroke.

“Hyunjin,” He gasps, voice cracking. “More, I—want—” He chokes on his own breath as Hyunjin wastes no time adding a third finger and curls them just right, dragging them against the spot that makes him see stars. And then—without warning—Hyunjin leans forward, pressing his tongue alongside his thrusting fingers, licking around where he’s being stretched open.

Felix cries out, a raw, wrecked sound tearing from his throat.

Pleasure coils tight in his gut again, and when it eases—he keens, one hand flying up to clamp over his mouth too late. Slick gushes from him, sloppy and obscene, soaking Hyunjin’s wrist and chin in a hot flood that he can’t bear to look down at. But Hyunjin doesn’t stop, and rather, he continues to lick through it like it’s frosting, tongue dragging through the mess, fingers still pumping in a steady rhythm that keeps Felix shaking, crying, undone. Felix sobs, shuddering as more slick leaks from him, his thighs trembling, hole clenching helplessly around Hyunjin’s fingers. And then—

His scent changes.

Thicker. Hotter. Suddenly cloying in the room—honey-sweet and intense, potent with desperation and need. It hits Hyunjin like a slap, and for a second, he forgets how to breathe.

Felix’s heat is rising again. Fast. Too fast. The room is saturated with it now—the omega’s body calling out for a knot, begging without words, his skin overheating, his voice sweet and broken as he calls his name again and again. Hyunjin shifts back after wiping his mouth, trying to blink the fog from his head—but it’s no use. Even breathing through his mouth, he can taste it. His pulse kicks hard. His whole body thrums, tight and straining. He shouldn’t be this hot. This hard.

But Felix’s scent—so potent, so sweet it’s nearly addicting—wraps around his brain like silk, and suddenly, it’s not just Felix’s need thick in the air.

It’s his own.

Hyunjin swallows hard. There’s a strange, yet familiar heat crawling under his skin now, spreading low in his stomach and up his spine. His breath comes faster. His mouth waters. And when he accidentally inhales a hint of Felix again—fresh slick, hot skin, omega in full heat—something in him pulses, dark and urgent.

No. Not now. It can’t be already, right?

He blinks, confused at first, then realizes—The scent blockers, the medication. They’re all wearing off. A simple touch to his neck confirms that—the scent blockers are now wrinkled and lifting. He curses under his breath and abruptly pulls away, shoving himself upright. His hand flies to cover his mouth and nose, his other arm trembling as he braces against the mattress edge. “I need—I need another dose,” He mutters, voice rough. “I’ll be right back, okay? I just can’t—” But before he can make it off the bed, a hand catches his wrist. Strong. Desperate.

“Don’t leave,” Felix begs, voice raw. “Please—don’t go.”

“Felix, Angel. I promise it won’t even take a minute. We both know I can’t stay here like this, I’ll lose control—” Hyunjin warns, trying to gently ease his hands off of him. His own pupils are blown wide now, body tense, sweat beading at his brow as the first spike of rut burns through him. But Felix moves faster than expected, fueled by instinct and need. He tugs hard—shoving Hyunjin down onto the bed with a strength that surprises them both. And before he can recover, Felix straddles him, hands splayed against his chest, as warm, plush thighs caging his hips.

“I said don’t go,” He pleads, looking down at him with eyes wide and glassy. He looks like he’ll cry. “Please—don’t leave me like this. I just—fuck.” Felix sighs, shaking his head, fingers rubbing at his temples like he’s trying to chase away the spinning heat clouding his thoughts. “You can’t leave,” He mumbles, then immediately corrects himself, voice softer, less certain. “I mean, you could…but…” He looks down at Hyunjin, lips trembling. “I don’t want you to. You said you wouldn’t, so stay. Please.” His fingers curl into Hyunjin’s collar as he leans down, fingers fumbling with the buttons there, undoing one. His mouth brushes the shell of his ear. “I need you,” He says, almost too quiet to hear. Then louder—

“I need you to mark me.”

Hyunjin tenses beneath him like he’s been struck.

“Felix—” He warns, jaw clenched, hands gripping the sheets. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“But I do,” Felix remarks, hips twitching where he’s seated on Hyunjin’s lap. He pops another button from its clasp. His voice is sweet and sultry, every word soaked in pheromones and desperation. “Please, Hyunjin. I want it. My heat hurts so much and I can’t think about anything else but you.”

“Felix..” Hyunjin knows Felix isn’t in the right mind to make this choice. He knows. His body is soaked in heat, thoughts hazy and driven by instinct. But honestly, he isn’t any better—he’s barely holding on. The way Felix is subtly squirming in his lap, the way he smells so sinful—it’s dragging every rational thought into the fire. He shuts his eyes tightly, like that’ll help erase the figure before him. Like he isn’t already rock hard, twitching painfully under Felix’s weight.

“This really isn’t—this isn’t good,” He grits out, chest heaving with restraint. “I know it hurts, and I want to help you—God. I want to do that for you so bad, but I won’t be able to stop myself if my rut starts. Minho, and your injury—” He’s trying to protest, trying to hang on, but the words dissolve in his mouth the moment Felix slides his hand down, pushing beneath his waistband and curling his fingers around his cock.

Hyunjin’s breath catches.

His head drops back with a groan, eyes fluttering shut as his hands fly to Felix’s waist, gripping hard—too hard.

“I don’t mind if you can’t control yourself,” Felix admits, voice soft but certain, breath brushing Hyunjin’s throat. “I’d rather you don’t, really.”

“Don’t say things like that,” He breathes out, barely above a whisper. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“Yes, I do,” Felix says, and there’s no hesitation now. “I’m here…trying to get you to give in—assuring you I’ll be fine despite what we do—attempting to seduce you, even. I’ve never spent a heat with an alpha before, and I’m so sure about doing it with you. So please,” His voice breaks into a whine. “You have an omega in your lap,” He breathes, almost pleading, rubbing his thumb over Hyunjin's cock head. “Wet, and hard, and you won’t fuck me?”

That’s what undoes him.

Hyunjin’s eyes snap open. He stares up at Felix like he’s something sacred and sinful all at once, something he’s not supposed to touch but needs to devour. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” Hyunjin says, voice rough and shaking. “I’ve been holding back this whole time—because you’re injured, because you need care, because I don’t want to do anything I might regret. But right now, you’re driving me insane, Felix.”

Felix smiles—a little too happily, innocent. “Then don’t hold back.”

Hyunjin surges up and kisses him hard—finally, hungrily, like he’s starving. His hands drag Felix fully against him, swallowing every sound he makes. There’s no gentleness left. No hesitation. Just the need for each other. And he knows the moment he sinks into him, there’ll be no turning back.

But right now, neither of them cares.

And neither does Minho, seemingly, who stands a few doors down the hallway with his back against the wall, one hand covering his mouth, the other clenched at his side. Through the thick stone and velvet drapery, their sounds are muffled—but their scents are there, blooming and spreading—strong enough to confirm that things have passed the point of return. “Don’t even go in there,” Minho mutters when Jisung and Changbin round the corner, both tense, alert. “There’s no point in removing him now. He didn’t listen.”

Jisung narrows his eyes. “You didn’t expect him to, though. Did you?”

Minho doesn’t respond right away.

Jisung steps closer, tone teasing. “And if you really didn’t want him to go far, then you would’ve given Hyunjin the sedatives to take himself—inside. You knew this would happen. You wanted it to.”

Minho’s lips twitch—something between a smile and a grimace. “Maybe,” He says, “maybe not.”

Changbin crosses his arms. “You’re testing Hyunjin, aren’t you?”

“Well, of course,” Minho admits it easily within seconds, shrugging. He’d suspected Hyunjin would give in—expected it, if he were honest. The strain was always going to snap eventually. And with Felix already spiraling into heat far more intense than expected, it only made sense to let nature take its course.

Minho didn’t intervene.

Not because he was negligent.

But because he wanted to observe. He told himself it would be useful—necessary, even—to gather data. To observe what happened when Hyunjin was faced with a true, raw bond under pressure. How he’d handle the pull of rut against instinct. What choices he’d make when Felix was asking for it, even through pain and haze. And Felix—despite his own confusion, his fear—had made something very clear in those quiet moments of doubt and confession when they talked.

He likely wanted to be marked.

Not just claimed—taken.

Although the decision wasn’t said outright, Minho had noticed enough.

Read it in the silence between their words, in the way Felix’s hands shook when he spoke about his family. So Minho stepped back. Waited to see what they would do with the choice laid bare before him. And honestly, the more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the logical outcome. Necessary, even. “Since Hyunjin has used so much of his power lately,” Minho started, arms crossed as he stared down the hall, “we can’t have him self-destructing by holding it in.”

Suppressing a rut, especially one tangled with cursed energy and heightened by an omega in heat, was like holding back a tsunami with bare hands. And Hyunjin had been walking that edge for days now—drained, stressed, and dangerously close to snapping. So no—Minho didn’t stop him, didn’t follow up with his warning of dragging Hyunjin out. Because what was the alternative? Let him spiral? Let the cursed energy feed off his restraint until it ate him from the inside out? No. It’s better to let him fall. Better to push him over the edge—with the one person who might actually ground him.

—

Back inside, the room is thick with tension and the mingling of scents. Hyunjin lies beneath him still, finally undressed—his shirt and pants discarded with eager hands for his cock to rest heavy against his abdomen.

Felix stares, swallowing thickly. He bites his lip as he reaches down with both hands to roll the rubber protection on, carefully. Hyunjin watches through half-lidded eyes, chest rising and falling like he’s holding back a storm. Then he reaches between them and lines Hyunjin up, guiding the tip to his entrance. His hands are shaking, thighs trembling where they’re lifted, but he doesn’t falter once he sinks down. The stretch burns in the most delicious way—Hyunjin’s size forcing him open inch by inch, making his breath hitch and his back arch. Felix whimpers softly, head tipping back, hands braced on Hyunjin’s chest.

Hyunjin groans beneath him, trying not to buck up into the tight, dripping heat swallowing him. The pressure, the stretch, the feel of being buried so deep—it’s overwhelming. Felix sits there for a second, full to the brim, his body clenching reflexively around the thickness inside him. His scent spikes again, sweeter, stronger—syrupy and irresistible. Felix starts to move slowly at first—lifting just enough to slide back down again, a soft noise caught in his throat as he adjusts.

It’s not long before he’s riding him in earnest, chasing friction and fullness, the wet slap of skin growing louder, faster. And Hyunjin—surrendering now—lets him. Lets him grind, bounce, take.

Until something shifts.

It happens fast.

A sudden, sharp burst of scent fills the room—citrus and ozone, wild and fresh, like something alive tearing free of a cage. It cuts through the sweetness of Felix’s heat like lightning splitting the sky.

Felix falters.

His rhythm stutters, hips freezing in place as the air thickens around them, every hair on his arms standing on end. Hyunjin’s rut hits hard, and there’s nothing subtle about it. His scent blooms, overwhelming, heady and electric, charged with the weight of instinct and hunger. It wraps around Felix’s body like invisible hands, coaxing, smothering, claiming. “Hyunjin—” Felix gasps, eyes going wide, but he doesn’t get another word out.

Because in the next second, Hyunjin moves. He thrusts up hard from beneath, hips snapping into Felix’s with a force that knocks the air from his lungs. Felix cries out, whole body jolting, hands flying to Hyunjin’s shoulders to hold on. He pounds into him now—merciless, fast, hips meeting slick with loud, wet slaps, the bed creaking violently beneath them. Every thrust hits deep and sharp, and Felix folds forward, clutching at Hyunjin’s chest, his body rocking with every brutal snap of Hyunjin’s hips. “Aah—ngh, Hyun—” He moans, the words falling apart.

Hyunjin’s hands are locked on his hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, dragging Felix down onto every thrust, using him like a lifeline—like he needs to be inside him to stay sane. Felix lets out a broken cry, legs trembling where they straddle him, body jerking with every thrust. His slick is everywhere—coating their skin, soaking the sheets, sticky between their thighs—and he’s so full he can barely think. Every stroke of Hyunjin’s cock inside him feels unbearable and perfect all at once, crashing into that spot over and over like Hyunjin knows it, owns it. “I c-can’t—” Felix whimpers, head tipping back, stars bursting behind his eyes. “I can’t—Hyun—I’m gonna—”

And then he breaks again.

He clamps down hard, back arching violently as he comes untouched for the third time. A sharp sob tears from his throat, mouth falling open in a silent scream as his thighs shake uncontrollably. “Oh—Felix—” Hyunjin gasps, voice loud and raw, eyes wide as he watches Felix fall apart. “That’s it—Haa. Look at you. You’re so tight, so fucking pretty when you come for me—” He doesn’t stop moving. Not even for a second. Felix twitches, overstimulated to the point of tears, trying to squirm away—but Hyunjin holds him firmly in place, snapping his hips up again, again, again. “I can feel you fluttering—still clenching around me,” He breathes, sounding almost wrecked now, drunk on the sensation, on Felix. “You really like it like this, don’t you? All messy and full—so fucking wet for me—”

“M-mhm.” Felix manages a nod, trembling as his hole keeps pulsing around Hyunjin, unable to stop the little aftershocks coursing through him.

“You feel so good,” Hyunjin sighs, letting his head fall back, a shiver racking through him. “I could stay buried in you forever.” His voice cracks with need, sweat clinging to his skin, hips still slamming up into Felix’s soft, trembling hole like he’s chasing something he’s afraid to lose. And with the way Felix keeps gasping his name, dazed and overwhelmed, Hyunjin knows he’s not stopping until they both break.

In a blur of motion, he shifts—flips them—pressing Felix down onto his stomach, lifting his hips with a firm grip under his waist. Felix gasps as he slams back in, thick and deep, the force knocking the breath from his lungs.

Felix buries his face in the pillow before him to muffle the sounds. But the noise of skin meeting skin is too loud, too wet, too desperate to ignore. Hyunjin’s raises his eyebrow at the sight, amused. He thrusts harder—deeper—and snakes a hand up Felix’s chest, then curls it under his jaw, forcing his head up and away from the pillow. His other hand spreads across Felix’s hip, holding him there, keeping him in place. “Just let it out.”

Felix shakes his head, words tumbling between ragged breaths. “I—I prefer not t-too…”

“And yet,” Hyunjin says low against his ear, breath hot and heavy, his voice rough with pleasure. “It’s harder to breathe when you hold back your voice like that. Not to mention—” he slams in again, sharp and precise, dragging a strangled moan from Felix’s throat— “it’s harder for me to hear such pretty sounds.”

Felix’s whole body shudders. His knees slide apart, arms trembling where they try to brace against the mattress. Hyunjin thrusts are steady and quick, cock dragging deep inside him, stirring up slick and heat and helpless, overstimulated pleasure.

Another moan rips out of him as Hyunjin changes the angle, hitting the spot inside him that makes his thighs twitch and his toes curl. His jaw slackens, and he slowly lifts his head. He complies—soft and ruined, every sound raw and unfiltered, finally letting himself be heard. And Hyunjin only smiles like he’s won something, praise falling from his lips.

Another moment later, Hyunjin’s knot, thick and swelling at the base, begins to grow with every grind into Felix’s tight, soaked heat. It catches each time now—pushing in harder, stretching Felix open wider, claiming more of him. Felix gasps, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he feels the pressure change inside him. Hyunjin moans, hips rocking harder, deeper, trying to bury himself as far as he can go. The room feels like it’s burning, thick with the scent of rut and heat, heavy and dizzying. His knot swells further, and the stretch of it forces another sob from Felix’s throat. “I feel so full—” Felix pushes out, voice cracking. “D-Don’t stop, please don’t stop—”

And Hyunjin doesn’t.

His hand slides up Felix’s trembling spine, tracing sweat-slicked skin, until his fingers curl around the nape of his neck. He lowers himself fully, blanketing Felix’s back with his chest, grinding in with short, jerking thrusts that make Felix cry out with every slam of his hips. And then his lips brush the side of Felix’s neck. Right over the scent gland—The spot meant for this moment.Hyunjin pauses—only for a breath—his mouth hovering, his pulse racing. He can feel it happening—his body on the edge of no return, the knot swelling fully, locking tight inside Felix’s heat. And still—he hesitates.

Until Felix turns his face, cheeks flushed, eyes glazed, voice nothing but a broken whisper. “Please.”

Hyunjin breathes in sharply.

“Please,” He cries again, voice higher, desperate. “I want to be yours, I want it—I want it—”

Hyunjin smiles against his neck before mouths at the gland again, messily this time, panting hard against Felix’s neck. “Say that again.”

Felix whimpers, eyes wet and dazed. “Yours—I’m yours—I’m yours, please—”

With a ragged breath, he snaps his hips forward one last time—deep—his knot finally pushing past resistance and locking in place. Felix screams, back arching violently, his entire body convulsing from the sudden stretch and fullness.

He bites down not a second later. His fangs sink into the soft flesh of Felix’s neck, right over the gland, and Felix screams. The pain and euphoria hit like lightning, white-hot and consuming, his body spasming helplessly around Hyunjin’s knot as another orgasm rips through him. He’s shaking, moaning, sobbing, eyes wide and unfocused as his voice stutters into a broken, frantic chant of thank you’s and yes, yes, yes—

Hot tears streak down his cheeks, his fingers clawing uselessly at the sheets as he melts under the weight of it—of Hyunjin inside him, biting him, marking him. Hyunjin pants harshly, still latched onto his neck, shuddering as he spills into the condom—thick, deep, and endless—his whole body jerking as he ruts instinctively, helpless against the force of his own release.

And god, it’s a lot.

A lot for him to take. A lot for him to feel.

His mind is blank, body wrung dry and still somehow overstimulated beyond sense. His hole is stretched taut around the thick swell of Hyunjin’s knot, twitching with every small movement, slick still leaking down his thighs in slow, sticky trails. His muscles won’t stop trembling—his legs limp, his hands numb, his breath caught in shallow, uneven gasps. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying again until another tear slips from his lashes.

Hyunjin finally eases his bite, slowly dragging his mouth from Felix’s neck, tongue lapping gently over the forming mark. He groans softly against it, like even tasting Felix is enough to make his body jolt again.

“Fuck…” Hyunjin rasps, voice cracked, wrecked. His lips trail down the slope of Felix’s shoulder, and he pulls him back against his chest, still fully sheathed inside, knot pulsing. “You did so well. So, so well.”

Felix can’t speak yet. His mouth opens, but nothing coherent comes out—just a shaky, broken sound, like he’s trying to thank him again but can’t form the words. His entire body feels like it’s vibrating. Like the bond itself is buzzing just under his skin, threading its way through his veins and anchoring him in ways he doesn’t fully understand.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s knot begins to soften, the sharp ache of fullness dulling just enough for him to move. Gently—carefully—he adjusts them, shifting with a low exhale. He pulls out slowly, coaxing a soft whimper from Felix’s lips, and then gathers him close again. Again, Felix ends up straddling Hyunjin’s lap, legs draped loosely around his waist, chest pressed to his. Hyunjin leans back against the headboard, holding him there, like the bond itself won’t allow even an inch of distance between them. One hand comes up to cup Felix’s flushed cheek.

Hyunjin’s thumb brushes away the tears still clinging to his lashes, his smile wide—too wide—something unhinged curling behind his eyes despite the softness of the gesture. Felix’s hair is a mess, damp with sweat, strands sticking to his temple and forehead. His lips are kiss-swollen, eyes glassy and dazed, his skin glowing in the aftermath.

And Hyunjin—

He stares at him like he’s been starved and just tasted heaven for the first time. His thumb slides down, tracing along Felix’s bottom lip, smearing the moisture there, slow and reverent. “Forgive me, Angel, but I think I’ve finally lost it. You know,” He murmurs, voice low and warm against Felix’s ear, “It might not have looked like it, but I’ve still been restraining myself.” He leans in, lips barely grazing Felix’s jaw—not kissing, just hovering. Breathing him in. Letting his words settle.

Felix swallows, pulse fluttering. “Restraining…?”

That was him restraining himself?

Hyunjin hums. “Mm. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.” A pause. A wide grin. “But you can take more, can’t you?”

Felix shifts on his lap, suddenly aware of the heat beneath him, the weight returning. Hyunjin’s hands trace lazy circles along his hips, gentle…too gentle.

“More of…?” Felix starts, trailing off.

Hyunjin lifts his eyes, gaze dark and lidded. “Do you think you could handle another hour?”

The question is soft. Almost sweet.

Felix pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, hesitating—caught between instinct and sense, body and mind. But then Hyunjin shifts beneath him, just slightly, rolling his hips up in a slow, deliberate grind. It’s subtle. Too smooth. But Felix feels everything—the promise, the slow, thick drag against his sore entrance that makes his entire body tense. Then Hyunjin leans in, lips brushing his neck—just above the fresh bite mark, still tender and warm. His voice is a whisper, but it’s full of something deeper. A hunger he’s barely suppressing.

“Please.”

It’s not a demand. Not a command. It’s Hyunjin asking—sweetly, almost reverently—like he’ll fall apart if Felix says no. And Felix—kind to a fault, heart soft and body already melting—gives in with a small, shy nod.

“…Yeah,” He murmurs, cheeks pink, voice almost too quiet. “I can.”

And later, when the next day’s sun has risen and the birds are singing their usual sounds outside, Felix almost regrets those words.

Almost.

-.-.-

“H-haah… w-wait—m’already… f-filed…” Felix whimpers, hands sliding across Hyunjin’s chest with weak, trembling hands.

Hyunjin is still hard, still moving, slow and deep, like he has all the time in the world to ruin him. The air is thick with heat and sweat and the sinful, musky scent of sex. Felix can feel slick and cum leaking from him, warm and messy, running down the insides of his thighs in lazy beads. His legs shake with every shift, overstimulated to the point of delirium.

They’d stopped bothering with condoms hours ago.

Somewhere during the third knot—when Felix was too fucked-out to think straight and Hyunjin had to keep changing them—the door had quietly been knocked on, and a hand slid a small silver pack across the floor through the bottom.

They had both taken the pills on instinct.

And now, he’s pressed flush against Felix again, pinning him to the mattress like a man possessed. His hand strokes soothingly down Felix’s trembling side, but the pace of his hips says otherwise—relentless, hungry, grinding so deep Felix can feel it in his stomach. “You’re so warm,” Hyunjin murmurs, lips brushing behind Felix’s ear, voice thick with pleasure and something darker. “So soft around me. Every time I push deeper, you pull me in like you need it.”

Felix’s eyes roll back, his voice breaking as another sob escapes him. “M’too f-full—“ He slurs his words together. “I can’t take more, Hyun—”

“You can,” Hyunjin says simply, kissing over their bond mark. His breath is hot, his hands firm and steady where they spread Felix wider—thumbing over slick skin, watching his own cum leak out only to push it right back in with another roll of his hips. Felix’s fingers curl into the sheets, body arching despite himself, and deep down—through the haze and ache and overstimulation—he knows he won’t disagree despite it all.

Not when Hyunjin says it like that.

Not when he himself still yearns and needs deep inside.

Still, somewhere in the haze, Felix remembers Minho’s warning. The words had sounded like caution. Like something Hyunjin himself didn’t fully understand, or perhaps refused to. At the time, it hadn’t made sense. Felix had assumed a rut was a rut—violent, overwhelming, but ultimately predictable. Manageable. But now?

Now, with his throat raw from moaning, his body flushed and used, his legs unable to stop shaking even when Hyunjin finally lets him rest—He understands. A typical rut would’ve started to fade by now. After a day or so of relentless fucking, a normal alpha’s body would begin to ease. Their senses would return to them. The scent in the air would soften. They’d slow down.

But not Hyunjin.

Not this monster.

For Hyunjin, it only seems to deepen. His need doesn’t taper off—it coils tighter, amplifies, almost like something unnatural is feeding it from within. Even when he’s gentle, even when he holds Felix close and whispers soft things, it’s like there’s something churning just beneath the surface.

Felix lets his head fall against Hyunjin’s shoulder with a soft, broken exhale. He can hardly believe how long it’s been. Hours? A day? Longer than that? It all blurs now—pleasure and exhaustion in waves. His body aches, marked up with bites and kisses and bruises in places he didn’t know could ruin so easily.

Still, it hasn’t been all mindless. Not entirely.

They had left the bedroom multiple times when needed.

Because for all his unbearable heat, Hyunjin is aware. Somehow.

He knows when Felix is truly close to breaking. Not just overstimulated—close to passing out. And when that line draws too close, he shifts. Slows. Carries Felix like something precious, whispering reassurances as if trying to anchor himself through caring for him.

Felix remembers one time in the bath—barely.

He’d been half asleep when Hyunjin had drawn it, steamy water rising as arms cradled him close, easing him down into the warmth. Hands smoothing over his skin, washing sweat from his body. Whispered praises against his temple, soft kisses to his cheeks. The scent of rut was still in the air, but subdued—for a moment. Felix had leaned into him, boneless. Not because he had strength left, but because there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

So, with sunlight spilling through the curtains, body sore and claiming—he knows he’s experienced firsthand just how pleasure and lust could drive someone too far from their normal senses. And when Hyunjin knots him again—gentle, possessive, like he belongs there—Felix’s breath hitches. His body tenses, expecting another orgasm, but his mind is already too gone to fully process what doesn’t happen next.

Nothing comes out.

Hyunjin stills for a second, hands tightening around Felix’s waist, head tilting slightly in surprise.

Then he chuckles—low, fond, terribly smug.

“Oh? All empty now?” He murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. “I didn’t think I’d really drain you…”

Felix turns his face into the pillow with a soft, humiliated groan. “Don’t say it like that…”

“But it’s true,” Hyunjin coos, dragging his fingers up and down Felix’s sides in soothing strokes. “Nothing left to give me, and you’re still taking me so well. You’re amazing.”

Felix hides his face further, cheeks burning. “And You’re awful.”

Hyunjin kisses him. “And you’re adorable.”

Felix doesn’t respond—mostly because his throat is too tight, and maybe a little because he secretly likes hearing it.

—

Three days later, it’s finally over.

Hyunjin’s rut, his heat, the endless effects of both of those things combined—all of it.

Outside, in yet another early morning—birds call familiar sounds that feel strangely reverent after everything. Felix's body aches where he lays, the kind of ache that sinks deep into the bones, and when he shifts even slightly, his back seizes tight.

A sharp breath leaves his mouth.

He hisses through his teeth, hand pressing flat to his lower back.

The sound is enough.

Porcelain clinks nearby—the soft pour of tea halts midstream.

“Felix?” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the quiet, already close. “Is it your injury?”

Felix doesn’t respond right away. His eyes are still half-closed, brow drawn. He feels the bed dip slightly as Hyunjin approaches fast—tea forgotten, hands hovering near but not touching yet. “I tried to be careful,” Hyunjin says, quieter now. “But if it’s your side again, I can get—”

Felix shakes his head, finally opening his eyes.

“No,” he says. His voice is rough, dry. “It’s not…that.”

Their eyes meet.

Hyunjin doesn’t move, doesn’t speak—just watches. Felix feels the weight of it immediately, the way silence builds with realization. The soreness in his thighs. The raw ache deep inside. His flushed skin, too warm even in the morning light. A slow, red heat creeps into his face. And when Hyunjin looks away first, jaw tight, color rising high on his cheekbones—it’s clear he feels it too.

Felix pulls the blanket up over his chest, suddenly aware of everything: the air, the aftermath, the fact that neither of them quite knows what to say.

Hyunjin clears his throat.

“I made something light,” He says, eyes flicking briefly back to Felix’s. “You should really eat.”

Felix nods once, then winces when the motion shifts his back again. He exhales shakily, teeth clenched.

“I’ll help you sit up,” Hyunjin adds, already moving to reach under his shoulders.

“I can—” Felix starts, but stops. His body disagrees. He doesn’t protest again.

Hyunjin’s arm slips behind his back without a word, the other steadying his waist as he slowly helps guide him up. The touch is careful—not gentle, exactly, but deliberate, like he’s focused on not hurting him. Felix feels the heat of Hyunjin’s chest through his shirt, the firm press of his arm, the way he exhales quietly when Felix leans into him a little more than expected. Once Felix is upright and leaning back against the pillows, Hyunjin stays close.

His eyes drop to Felix’s neck, and he stares for a moment—expression unreadable—then reaches out, brushing a knuckle gently over the mark just above his scent gland. The skin is bruised, faintly swollen, but healing. A faint smile tugs at Hyunjin’s mouth. Something quiet. Pleased.

Felix watches him, studying the way his gaze lingers—how the tension in his shoulders softens as he stares. Eventually, Hyunjin’s hand shifts lower, fingers ghosting along Felix’s side—finding the place where his stab wound had been bandaged before all this. His touch turns clinical now, checking the edges of the gauze, his brow furrowing slightly.

“No swelling,” He murmurs. “Still closed. Good.”

Felix glances away, cheeks still hot. “…We should eat.”

Hyunjin straightens, nodding once. “Of course, I have something here for you from Jennie. I made tea too. Just something light.”

Felix nods, then hesitates. “How long has it been?”

Hyunjin glances back at him. “Three days,” He says simply, as if it should be obvious.

Felix blinks. “Only three?”

Hyunjin hums. “Well, my rut usually lasts closer to a week,” He admits. “But this time…” He trails off for a moment, watching Felix’s face. “I think our cycles synced. Yours started early—and it pulled mine forward. Luckily, right?” He pauses. The weight of that lingers in the air for a moment before he glances away, gently adjusting the tray. “…Are you hungry?”

Felix nods slowly. “Yeah.” He shifts again, careful of the ache in his body. Then, quieter, “I also want to thank you…for it all. I don’t remember exactly what I said or did, but—”

“You begged me,” Hyunjin answers quickly with a hint of teasing. “Desperately. And you were so hot in my arms, I’ll never forget.”

Felix freezes. “Oh. I…” His voice falters, face reheating in an instant as he remembers the fragments little by little. “I probably did, I, uhm, yeah…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you were absolutely endearing.” Hyunjin kisses the crown of his head. “And I’m glad you let me help you…even if I couldn’t stop my rut from rising.”

Felix’s breath hitches just slightly—caught somewhere between embarrassment and something warmer, deeper. He doesn’t reply right away, just leans a little into the kiss, eyes soft. “It’s okay. I’m glad too,” He says at last.

Chapter Text

They settle into silence after that.

Felix, still propped against the pillows, lets Hyunjin lift the tray into his lap. The tea is warm and floral, the food simple—just soft rice, fruit, and lightly seasoned broth with steamed vegetables—but it’s perfect. Just enough to coax his appetite back after three days of haze and heat. Hyunjin feeds him, carefully spooning little bites into his mouth, watching him chew like he’s still unsure Felix won’t collapse suddenly. And maybe that’s fair—Felix is sore in places he didn’t know could ache, but he’s also more at ease than he’s been in weeks.

“You’re really okay?” Hyunjin asks between sips of tea. He isn’t teasing now—his brow is faintly drawn, eyes tracing Felix’s face like he’s memorizing it. “Not just saying it to make me feel better?”

Felix swallows, licks his lips, then gives a nod. “I’m okay, I swear.” He says with a smile. “Just sore. Really sore.”

Hyunjin leans in, brushing a stray strand of hair from his cheek. “You scared me a few times,” He admits. “Especially the second night.”

“I know,” Felix murmurs. “I couldn’t help myself though. I didn’t want to be alone through it.”

“You weren’t,” Hyunjin says, voice soft but firm. “Because I wouldn’t let you, hmm?”

They fall into silence again, the kind that feels like a shared secret. Felix finishes half his meal before his stomach waves a little in protest. Hyunjin doesn’t push him to eat more—just takes the tray, sets it aside, and runs his fingers gently over Felix’s dorsal soothingly. “I should get Minho,” He says eventually. “He’ll want to check your condition and your wound. Just to be safe—”

“Wait,” Felix’s arms move before his brain catches up. He wraps them around Hyunjin’s waist, tugging him back just as he’s about to slip off the bed.

Hyunjin pauses mid-motion, blinking down at him.

Felix’s voice is quieter now, hesitant but hopeful. “Can we…just stay like this a little longer?”

Hyunjin tilts his head. “Like this?”

Felix nods, face already warming. “I can see Minho later. I know I probably seem clingy, but I just—don’t want you to go yet.”

“You are clingy,” Hyunjin teases softly, already letting himself sink back into the bed. “But I like it. You’re cute when you’re needy and open like this.”

Felix mumbles something against his shirt that sounds suspiciously like “don’t say things like that,” but his arms stay tightly around him.

And Hyunjin—content, warm, and completely wrapped up in Felix—just strokes his hair and hums.

Felix lets out a sigh—soft, relieved—and tucks himself in tighter. There’s no more questions, no teasing. Hyunjin just holds him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other resting over the curve of his spine. And if his heart feels like it’s threatening to split in two from how full it is—well, that’s between him and the bond.

They fall asleep again without meaning to.

Wrapped around each other, Felix breathes more easily, comforted by the warmth and steady heartbeat at his back. The soreness in his body is still evident, of course, but it no longer hurts in the same way. It just feels real. Earned. Like something his body endured and survived with someone who never left his side.

The room is dimmer when Felix wakes again, and it’s well into the afternoon when soft footsteps near the door pull him from the haze. A gentle knock, and then—

“Sorry,” Jennie’s voice filters in as the door opens a crack. “Minho says he’d like to see you both. He said—uh—it will be quick.” Her tone is laced with dry amusement, though she doesn’t step in fully. “There’s lunch in the dining room waiting if you’re hungry also.”

Felix groans faintly, burying his face deeper into Hyunjin’s chest before finally, reluctantly, untangling himself. Hyunjin peeks an eyelid open as Felix shifts, grumbling softly against his chest. His hair is a mess, sticking up at odd angles, and there’s still a faint crease on his cheek from the pillow.

“Did you sleep enough?” Hyunjin mumbles, voice fond.

Felix nods, rubbing his eyes blearily. “A little too much, maybe, but yes, I did. Rather comfortably.”

Hyunjin chuckles and pushes himself up on one elbow before leaning in, lips brushing across Felix’s temple, then lower—to his cheek, the corner of his mouth, then finally finding his lips. The kiss starts soft, slow—but deepens naturally, like gravity. Hyunjin’s hand cradles the side of Felix’s jaw as their mouths move together in a lazy rhythm, unhurried but full of meaning. By the time they pull apart, Felix’s lips are kiss-swollen and slick, breath catching softly in his throat. His thoughts, once groggy and quiet, begin drifting toward something far less…innocent.

(A brief memory from last night.)

In Minho’s office, the tone shifts.

The air is cooler, clearer—less personal. Felix sits upright on one of the velvet-backed chairs, a faint red still dusting his cheeks. Hyunjin sits beside him, posture straight, neutral, like someone long used to Minho’s presence. Minho doesn’t sit. He stands behind his desk, flipping through a few loose notes before glancing up at them with a look that toes the line between curiosity and appraisal. “You both look alive,” The alpha starts. “That’s something.”

Felix feels his eye twitch at the dry attempt of humor, and it’s Hyunjin who speaks. “You sent someone with pills, right? We used them.”

Minho hums. “I hoped you did, otherwise….well, you know. They’re meant to prevent any unplanned future issues. And for scent regulation?”

“Managed it,” Hyunjin says. “Just…barely.”

Minho nods once, then looks between them—eyes lingering on Felix just a second longer. “You marked him, didn’t you?” The question lands like a soft blow, too direct to avoid, too calm to be casual. Felix stiffens, his pulse skipping, but Hyunjin doesn’t react. He meets Minho’s gaze with confidence, and parts his lips to admit—

“Yes, I did.”

Minho’s expression shifts—surprisingly—to something softer. He smiles, and this time, it’s genuine. “Well, congratulations. I’m happy for you both.”

The warmth doesn’t last long. His tone smooths back into something more measured. “That said, you should be aware—bond marks carry implications. Especially if they’re seen publicly.” He pauses, letting the meaning settle. “And with your family arriving in two days… they’ll be watching. Closely. Your trial officially concludes the day they arrive, and they’ll be eager to gauge the state of your relationship.”

At that, Felix tenses. His fingers curl against the fabric of his pants, and he looks away, jaw tight.

Minho doesn’t press, but continues carefully, watching him. “I wanted to ask how you’d like to handle it, Prince Felix. If you’d rather not be seen during their visit, I can arrange that. But…they’ll ask for you either way, I’m sure.”

Felix swallows, hard. A part of him wants to say yes—to avoid the questioning gazes, the judgement, the complicated weight his family might press onto his shoulders when they see the mark. It would be easier. Safer. Less exposing.

But then he glances at Hyunjin beside him.

And something inside him steadies.

He recalls—recalls clearly the way he asked to be marked. How he gave his consent fully, not in a haze, not out of panic, but with certainty. With longing. He wanted to be closer. He wanted Hyunjin, and there’s no room for fear when he chose this and loves him. His mother had wanted the marriage to succeed—needed it to, for political and personal reasons. And it has. Maybe not in the way the court expected, maybe not through cold strategy or obligation—but in something real. There’s no ambiguity. No loophole. And if Jiho still harbored hopes or delusions, the bond mark would end all of that. If anything, this might make things easier.

“I'll be fine,” Felix says at last. “If they see the mark, they see it. It’s not like I’ll try to purposely hide it, so there should be no issue.”

“Alright, good.” Minho nods. “Now, how have you been feeling? I haven’t gotten the chance to check your wound, but if you’re sitting fine now, I’ll assume it’s practically healed.” Minho says, then adds, more pointedly, “But are you eating? The body needs nutrients, proteins—for tissue repair. For energy, especially after days of…exertion. And I know you don’t always follow that information, no matter how many times I give it.”

Felix looks up, surprised by the sudden shift—especially the way Minho’s tone dips. Not cruel. But blatant. Direct.

Hyunjin’s eyes flick to him immediately.

“I’ve been eating,” Felix answers. “More than usual.”

Minho raises a brow. “Enough?”

“I’m trying,” Felix says a little too quickly.

The pause is telling. Minho doesn’t push, but he doesn’t let it drop either. “Okay. You’ll need to keep that up, especially after what your body’s just gone through. I trust Hyunjin’s not letting you skip meals, and even if you’re too exhausted some days, I’m sure he won’t mind taking care of you.”

Hyunjin’s gaze drifts between them. “Of course not,”

There’s a finality in the air then, like a thread neatly tied. Minho doesn’t push further, and Felix doesn’t shrink from it this time.

And that is that.

Once they’re alone again, walking back from the medical wing, Felix tries to focus on the soft patter of their footsteps—anything to drown out the noise in his head, but whatever is there is louder. Louder than Minho’s pointed words, louder than the guilt pressing on his chest like a weight he can’t shift.

Hyunjin walks beside him, holding his hand in a firm, comforting grip.

And somehow, that only makes it all worse.

There’s never a dull moment with Minho. He always manages to unearth the things Felix works so hard to keep buried—especially in front of Hyunjin. But it’s not malicious, Felix knows that. Minho corners his issues like he’s cutting something infected from the root, and though the sting is sharp, it’s meant to be cleansing. Helpful. Just not in a way Felix appreciates.

Felix draws in a steady breath. “Hyunjin—”

“Felix—” Hyunjin says at the same time.

Felix blinks. “Ah—sorry, you go first.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Hyunjin nods slowly. His voice is gentle when he speaks again, but it’s careful too, like he’s treading on ground that might break. “I don’t want to be invasive when I ask this, but…do you—maybe—have an eating disorder?”

Felix stops walking.

His breath catches in his throat. For a moment, he looks like he’s about to lie—or deflect. The silence stretches. His eyes drop to the floor, then flicker up to Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin’s brow furrows softly, concern etched into every line of his face. “I’m sorry if they came out too harsh. I was a little concerned with what Minho said, and that led me to think about it more.”

“No, that’s perfectly okay.” Felix’s voice wavers. He forces himself to keep his gaze. “I do.” The words fall from his mouth like a stone—heavy, final—but somehow freeing. His shoulders curl inward slightly, like he’s bracing for judgment, shame creeping up the back of his neck. But Hyunjin doesn’t let go of his hand. Doesn’t falter.

He only steps closer, his thumb brushing over Felix’s knuckles. “Okay,” He starts. “Thank you for telling me. It was only a speculation, but the more time I’ve spent with you—I thought that was the case. You’ve always eaten light things, and before, I’ve always heard you wouldn’t eat much when dining with everyone in the main hall.”

“…That’s it?” Felix raises his eyebrow.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not angry? Disappointed? I kept it from you for a while now, and…that’s all you have to say?”

Hyunjin blinks at him like he’s shocked he even asked, then smiles. “No,” He says simply. “We all have things we carry. Things we’re working through. I won’t judge you for yours ever, especially considering I know you’ve been through so much already. Sure, I’m a little surprised and worried, but that changes nothing about how I feel about you.”

Felix lets out a soft laugh, but it’s fragile—barely holding together. Like he couldn’t quite believe he was saying this aloud. “I’ve struggled with food since I was twelve. It started small. Skipping dinner when I felt too anxious or overwhelmed. But then it turned into something else. A way to cope. When I felt disgusted with my family or tired of being around people who expected too much. It’s not really about how I look,” He murmurs. “When everything else felt like chaos, this was the one thing that was controllable. At least, it felt like that in my kingdom. But now, here—I’ve been eating more, and I haven’t skipped much.” He hesitates, the words catching. “But with my family arriving soon, I’m scared I’ll slip back? Like I’ll stop trying again without even realizing. Either way, I didn’t want you to know because I didn’t want to be seen differently. But after the checkup—and everything that’s happened—I realized I don’t want to keep hiding things. I want to be more honest, even if it’s hard.”

“I wouldn’t have seen you differently,” Hyunjin assures him immediately. “You’re the strongest person I know. And I want all of you, not just the parts that are easy to show. This doesn’t change anything. You’re still the person I care about and the omega I bonded with. If you're struggling, then I want to help. More than anything, I also want to get to know and understand you more through your problems.”

Felix nods, but his lip wobbles slightly.

“So I’ll make sure you eat well still,” Hyunjin says softly, brushing his thumb across Felix’s cheek, “and not just because you need to—but because you deserve to feel good and take care of yourself.”

Felix lets out a shaky breath, blinking fast. “You’re really okay with all this?”

Hyunjin smiles, leaning in to press a light kiss to his forehead. “I’m more than okay.”

-.—

The night before his family’s arrival, extra precautions were finalized. Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin—and Jennie, too—were all assigned to stay near Felix at all times. Security throughout the castle had been tightened, and a magic barrier was placed over the corridor leading to Felix’s quarters to detect any unusual activity. For now, Felix had practically moved into Hyunjin’s room, where he’d be sleeping every night during the visit—a decision made partly for comfort, and partly as a precaution. He’d admitted, a little anxiously, that there was a chance Jiho might try to visit his room uninvited. So it was best, he’d reasoned, not to be there at all.

Hyunjin hadn’t questioned it—he agreed immediately. In fact, the moment Felix voiced the concern, Hyunjin was already moving to clear drawer space, adding Felix’s favorite tea to the side table, and subtly adjusting his schedule to make sure he’d be nearby as often as possible. Felix hadn’t said much in response. He’d just nodded, grateful, his fingers pausing over the edge of a neatly folded shirt as something tight in his chest eased.

By morning, the castle would be spotless. The guest halls would be arranged, the formal greeting chamber set, and they would be expected to greet his family in royal fashion—poised, polished, unshakably calm. But for now, curled into Hyunjin’s sheets with the scent of protection and comfort around him, he was still just Felix. Quiet. Thinking. Worrying about what may be said or done.

The next morning arrives like the edge of a blade.

The castle is awake before the sun is fully risen—staff bustling through halls, final touches being set on floral arrangements, polished silver trays passed between hands in near silence. Outside, the main gates remain shut, but tension simmers beneath every surface. Word has already reached them: the royal carriages from the Sunshine Kingdom are only minutes away.

Inside Hyunjin’s room, it’s quieter.

Felix sits at the edge of the bed, dressed already in soft ivory layers trimmed with gold—formal enough to honor his station, but not so stiff it makes him feel like a doll. Jennie had styled his hair loosely behind his shoulders, leaving room to frame his face, and a light powder sits on his cheekbones to brighten his expression. But despite the effort, Felix’s hands twitch in his lap.

His fingers brush subconsciously over the side of his neck. The bond mark is there—faintly visible if one looked too long. He hadn’t covered it.

Hyunjin returns from a brief conversation with Seungmin by the door, offering a small nod before crossing to him.

“They’re at the gate,” he says simply, crouching to meet Felix’s eye. “We have about ten minutes before they enter.”

Felix nods slowly. “Okay.”

“You’re pale,” Hyunjin murmurs, reaching to fix a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Breathe, angel.”

“I am breathing.”

“Shallowly.”

Felix huffs a breath, shaky but amused. “It’s just…a lot.”

“I know.” Hyunjin gently squeezes his hands. “And you’re not doing it alone.”

Eventually, there's a knock. Jennie peeks in, then pushes the door wider. “It’s time.”

Felix stands. His legs are steady, but his stomach feels like it’s twisting itself into knots. As they walk down the corridor, flanked by Seungmin and Changbin a few steps behind, Felix feels the castle shift—voices echoing, footsteps converging in the grand foyer.

And then—

The doors open. Sunlight floods in.

Felix’s mother, father, Jiho, and Camilla step in, all wearing golds and reds and whites; the signature sunshine kingdom's colors. Queen Hwang is the first to greet them all, taking a bow and welcoming them to the castle. “I hope you found the visit smooth despite the snow piling up. We’re in the height of our year long winter this month.” Her voice is smooth and composed, but Felix notices the weight behind every word—graceful diplomacy wrapped around careful warning.

His mother smiles, poised as ever. “We were well guided by your soldiers. The snow is quite charming, though I admit we aren’t used to it clinging to our hems quite like this.” Her eyes flick toward Felix Hyunjin before returning to the Queen. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

King Hwang bows his head, a silent gesture of respect. Jiho, on the other hand, doesn’t bother to hide the way his eyes scan the entryway—searching. They catch onto Felix with a flicker of something unreadable. Surprise? Disappointment? Envy? It’s quick, too quick to decipher before he masks it with a neutral smile. Camilla trails just behind, arms linked with a lady-in-waiting, eyes wide and roaming around like a child in a candy shop.

Any normal family—after three months of silence, uncertainty, and absence—would rush forward. Hug him. Touch his face. Say something kind.

But Queen Lee simply stands there.

She looks him over, slowly. Not in horror, not in joy—just… assessing. Her gaze lingers briefly on his face, then travels down his figure, sharp and critical, taking in the lines of his posture, the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders. It’s not maternal. It’s observant.

“It’s so lovely to see you again, Yongbok,” she says at last, stepping forward with a practiced smile and a sharp flick of her fan. “Quite cold here, isn’t it? I imagine it’s been difficult to adjust—you never did handle the chill very well.”

“Of course, mother.” Felix responds quickly, but there’s a stiffness in his voice. “And I hope you’ve all been well. I know I haven’t written much, but…I’ve done my best.”

She hums. “That’s good to hear.” Then, her eyes sweep across the gathering, lingering on Hyunjin, Queen Hwang, and the attending nobles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I am Queen Lee, as you may know. Thank you for welcoming us. And I do hope our prince hasn’t been causing too many issues.”

There’s a silence, brief but sharp.

Felix opens his mouth, then closes it again.

Hyunjin steps in instead. “Not at all,” He replies. “He’s been nothing but respectful and remarkable.”

Queen Lee tilts her head ever so slightly. “Is that so?”

“Yes, he’s been so good to us all!” Queen Hwang’s voice is bright, almost too bright—she sounds more happy than his mother herself. “He’s just the sweetest. Very helpful around the castle and such a caring prince. We couldn’t ask for a better partner for our son.”

Queen Lee hums, slow and deliberate. “That’s very fortunate,” She says, eyes cutting toward Felix once more. “And I do hope he hasn’t been too… delicate. Yongbok has always been quite sensitive, you see. It can be exhausting if you don’t know how to manage his moods.”

Queen Hwang’s smile doesn’t falter. “We’ve found him to be very adaptable. The palace has brought out many strengths I think even he didn’t know he had.”

“Oh?” Queen Lee raises a brow, her tone dripping with polite skepticism. “Well, resilience can certainly be taught—though it’s often best when it’s inherited.”

Across the room, King Hwang clears his throat and steps forward, offering a firm but cordial nod. “The arrangements have been progressing smoothly,” He says. “Our sons are pleased, and that’s all that matters.”

King Lee answers with a small smile. “Of course. Though I assume the political benefits haven’t hurt, either.”

The air tightens.

Hyunjin shifts slightly at Felix’s side, feeling the undercurrent swirl deeper. Even the guards and attendants in the room seem to sense it, standing a little straighter, stiller.

Queen Hwang steps in again, smooth as silk. “We’re all working toward the same goal, after all. Peace, unity, and the strengthening of our kingdoms.”

“Yes,” Queen Lee agrees mildly. “Though I do wonder if true unity is ever achievable when expectations aren’t equally distributed.”

Hyunjin bristles, just slightly, but Felix gently brushes his hand with his fingers in warning.

King Hwang speaks again, voice calm but firm. “I believe expectations are best handled privately, not in entry halls. Shall we move to the drawing room?”

Queen Lee’s smile returns, but her eyes are like cut glass. “Of course. We’ll escort you to your rooms shortly, but first—refreshments and snacks in the parlour. It’s been prepared with love and local sweets. I believe it’s important we make this visit as comfortable as possible.” Her smile is cordial, but it doesn’t touch her eyes.

The King nods. “Very thoughtful of you. We’re grateful.”

While their parents chat over snacks, Hyunjin and Yeji take the time to get to know his other family members.

“It’s a pleasure to welcome you both to our home,” Yeji offers warmly, dipping her head toward Jiho and Camila.

Camila beams. “Oh, yes. Thank you so much! It's beautiful here. A lot colder than I’m used to, but honestly? Prettier in its own way. It feels magical.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Hyunjin says smoothly, offering a small smile.

Jiho steps forward next, his grin courteous. “I’m Jiho. Cousin to Felix—but even so, I feel much more like a brother to him. I suppose we should consider ourselves future brothers-in-law, then, yes?”

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “I suppose we should.”

Camila, meanwhile, is practically glowing as her eyes rake over Hyunjin with open interest. “You’re very, um…different than what I expected.”

“Different?” Hyunjin echoes politely.

“Yes! In a good way, of course,” She quickly adds, giggling as she twirls a strand of hair around her finger. “From the rumors, I mean—not Like I, uhm. Entertained them ever. You’re so handsome and tall, and your features—they’re beautiful. Are you and Felix super close, perhaps?” Camila continues, her voice a touch too casual. She glances over at Felix and ignores the questionable look he gives her.

“We are,” Hyunjin replies. “I’m quite fond of him, and I do hope we become even closer as time goes on. I’d like to officially plan a wedding ceremony a time later than today,”

Camilla blinks. “Oh wow. That’s—“

“Very sweet.” Jiho finishes for her. “I just know you’re so excited about that, right Felix? With how pushy these types of arranged marriages are, it really has surprised me that you two became close in just three months. I’m happy for you both.”

Felix nods hesitantly. “Well, when the connection is right, time becomes irrelevant.”

Yeji hums lightly beside them, as if to steer the mood back into neutral ground. “Felix has always been quick to charm those around him, dare I say, in my short time knowing him, even I was charmed. You could even ask all the knights.”

“I agree, he does have that skill. That’s the very reason he’s the face of our kingdom. A lovely—“

Puppet.

Felix’s mind unhelpfully supplies before Jiho finishes.

“—and kind character. But enough of that, I want to know how we all think we’ll do in the upcoming hunting contest. Felix, you’ll participate, won’t you? I always remember how you loved to catch rabbits,”

Rabbits.

Felix shudders at the word.

There was never anything fun about hunting. Not to him. Chasing down tiny creatures and killing them in the name of tradition—just because they were small and defenseless—never sat right with him. But no one ever cared what he thought. His protests were brushed off, his discomfort ignored.

Jiho, on the other hand, adored it. He always won. Always strutted back to the castle with a smug grin and blood on his boots. Felix would return to his room—after a full day of lessons, studying, and being scolded by his mother for the way he held his posture or how he blinked too slow—and find a carcass waiting for him.

A rabbit. Dead and splayed across his bedsheets.

The blood of it soaked deep into the mattress.

“Of course I’ll participate, I always do.” Felix answers, staring him in the eye with a look telling of that memory. Jiho smiles, and Camilla chuckles nervously.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll join too. The winner receives a special gemstone, no? One that can be crafted into an accessory that enhances magic and health?” Hyunjin ponders.

“That’s right,” Jiho answers, nodding. “It’s quite rare. Only one is harvested per year from the frozen riverbed.”

“Then I suppose it’s worth aiming for. If I win,” Hyunjin says, “I’d like to give the gemstone to Felix.”

That earns him a few surprised looks—especially from Jiho, whose smile fades, momentarily strained.

“To me?” Felix asks, voice quieter now, a little caught off guard.

“Of course,” Hyunjin says, like it’s obvious. “It’s a rare thing, and I’d rather see it turned into something that’s useful to you. A pendant, maybe. Or a charm to keep with you at all times.”

“That’s nice of you. I think I’d be best to give Felix the gemstone as well,” Jiho says smoothly, his smile never quite reaching his eyes. “His health may not be the best right now, I assume. He’s gained a lot of weight since we last saw him.”

There’s a brief pause.

Felix lets out a nervous laugh, the sound tight in his throat. “Yeah…the food here is really good.”

“Better than our kingdom’s?” Jiho asks, brow lifting.

“Of course not,” Felix replies quickly, shaking his head. He doesn’t meet Jiho’s gaze, not when those familiar eyes sweep down the length of his body with open scrutiny. His stomach twists, even though it shouldn’t—he’s finally healthy again, Minho said so. His body’s catching up after years of being too thin, too pale, too tired.

Still, Jiho’s words dig in.

“But really, try not to eat too much,” Jiho says with a light chuckle, like it’s a harmless joke. “You’ll lose some of your cute charm.”

Hyunjin’s hand balls at his side. He doesn’t speak—not yet—but there’s something sharp behind his gaze now, like a knife waiting to be drawn.

Felix forces a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He can’t help it—he thinks of how Minho told him he was underweight. How the headaches were from malnutrition. How his body needed rest, and food, and time.

So…is he really getting too fat?

Or are they just nitpicking again?

Like always?

“I disagree,” Hyunjin says, voice smooth but tinged with finality. He keeps his hand at the small of Felix’s back, thumb moving in slow, grounding strokes. “He looks perfect, and even if that were the case, that would be okay.”

Jiho blinks, surprised. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just teasing—”

“Im sure you are,” Hyunjin cuts in gently. “But I’d rather you not tease him about something that’s taken him a lot of time to recover from.”

Felix’s heart skips a beat. His eyes flick to Hyunjin, startled—but grateful. Beside him, Yeji gives him a reassuring look. “I’ve seen firsthand how hard he’s been working to take care of himself,” Hyunjin continues, his voice never rising, never aggressive. Just firm. “He’s stronger now. Healthier. And more beautiful since our first meeting.”

“Of course, but really. I was only joking. Wasn’t I Camilla?”

Felix’s sister laughs. “Yeah, it’s nothing to worry about. They both joke around like that.”

“Exactly, right Felix?” Jiho looks him in the eyes, and there’s a flicker of something behind it—control, malice, something that doesn’t quite belong in polite company.

Felix tenses up as he forces himself not to look away. His back stiffens in Hyunjin’s hold, and he swallows dryly. The warmth in his chest turns to ice, a cold dread trickling down his spine. Jiho’s stare doesn’t waver—it holds, latches on, waits for his answer like a test he’s expected to pass without fault.

Felix forces a smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah,” He says. “We…do.” But his voice is strainedThe moment the words leave him, he looks away—down, to the polished floors, to the delicate cuffs of his sleeve, anywhere but at Jiho.

Jiho hums, satisfied, and turns his attention elsewhere to the table. “I think we should all sit with your and Felix’s parents and take the time to get to know each other more over food. We’re family now after all.” The statement lands heavy—too familiar, too warm, like a hand resting on the back of your neck a beat too long.

Chapter Text

As everyone moves to the long banquet table, the seating arrangement is carefully, perhaps too carefully, navigated. Felix ends up beside Hyunjin, and on his other side, Jiho is (thankfully) separated from him by Camila next to him. Their parents are on the other side of the table. Servants begin to pour tea and ladle warm porridge into delicate bowls. The mood should be light. But it isn’t.

“I imagine the two of you have grown quite close,” Queen Lee says, folding her hands as she regards Hyunjin from across the table. Her tone is pleasant, but her eyes are sharp.

“We have,” Hyunjin says with a calm smile, reaching for a slice of fruit. “Felix has made my days feel lighter since he arrived here. I’ve never met someone so—” He pauses, glancing at Felix, “—so thoughtful. Clever, too. And more selfless than he gives himself credit for.”

Queen Lee hums, though it sounds more like a scoff smoothed out into civility. “That’s…surprising to hear.”

Hyunjin blinks, smile faltering slightly. “Surprising?”

“Well, Yongbok has always been a bit of a challenge,” She says lightly. “He has a tendency to make up stories. Little things, of course, but disturbing and even dangerous to utter. Though, you know how some children are—but I suppose he’s grown up and more…” She trails off, waving a hand vaguely.

“Stubborn,” King Lee finishes for her, his voice bland. “And he doesn’t always know what’s best for him.”

Felix sits stiffly. His stomach is in knots.

Hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. “Funny. I’ve only ever seen him act with extreme caution—especially regarding his choices. He carries a lot of responsibility.”

“That might be,” Queen Lee says, offering a tight smile. “But he thinks too much, even when he shouldn’t. I suppose it’s why we never expected this arrangement to last long. But perhaps we were wrong.” She lifts her teacup. “You must be very patient.”

“I wouldn’t call it patience,” Hyunjin replies. “When you love someone, it doesn’t feel like effort to understand them. Felix makes it easy.”

A long pause.

Queen Lee lowers her cup with a quiet clink. “Interesting,” She echoes, brows lifting slightly. She looks at Felix—looks at her son as if that wasn’t part of the contract, a rather fleeting thing to fake the part he was sent here to fulfill.

“Mother…” Felix finally speaks, voice quiet. “Can we not do this here?”

Queen Hwang looks between them, her mouth a thin line. “I think it’s worth asking, what is it we’re doing? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds as though we’re painting my son-in-law in an unkind light for things that happened before he arrived here. And I don’t find that particularly appropriate.”

King Lee clears his throat. “It’s not unkindness. It’s honesty. If your son is to marry ours, we want him prepared. We’ve had to discipline Felix more times than we can count over the years.”

“Discipline,” Hyunjin repeats slowly. “Is that what you’d call it?”

Felix shoots him a warning look—please don’t.

Not now. Not here, with Jiho sitting directly across from them, eyes flicking curiously between them like he’s already putting the pieces together. Saying anything more would only confirm what Felix had tried so hard to keep hidden: that Hyunjin knew about the bruises. The old scars. The things that weren’t meant to be spoken of outside their golden castle walls. But then—

Jiho chuckles. It breaks the tension like a crack through glass. He raises his goblet, swirling the drink lazily. “Let’s not get too serious now,” He says, voice too light. “I’m sure you both parent differently. Besides, our Felix turned out just fine, didn’t he?” He smiles—not mockingly, but oddly warm. “He’s very sweet. A little dramatic when he’s flustered, sure. But that’s always been part of him.”

Queen Lee exhales, folding her hands in her lap. “Right. Please forgive us. We didn’t mean to speak so…bluntly.” Her smile returns, thin and distant. “It’s been a long ride here. The snowy mountains made our coachmen go slower than expected—there were several moments we thought we might tip over entirely.” She chuckles, like it’s a fond anecdote rather than a death-defying climb through ice and wind. “It must have left me a bit on edge.”

“We’re just glad you arrived safely,” Queen Hwang says, her tone polite but clipped. “The roads can be treacherous this time of year.”

“Indeed,” King Hwang adds, lifting his cup slightly. “And perhaps we all need time to warm up—to both the weather, and the company.”

Camila laughs at that. “Well, the castle is lovely. I’ve never seen such intricate carvings on the ceilings. And the snow here sparkles—back home, it always just turns to slush.”

And even though the moment has passed, Felix feels the way his throat tightens—tense, confused. Because Jiho shouldn’t have defended him. Because he doesn’t trust it. And because Hyunjin…witnessed too much. Though, it’s not like his parents would ever conceal their cold feelings toward him, even in the presence of another royal.

Though, regardless of everything, Hyunjin is more concerned about something else—Felix hasn’t touched his plate. Not a single bite, though he’s been shifting the utensils around as if that might fool someone. His fingers hover, fidgety, around the edges of the porcelain dish, and his gaze is unfocused—fixed somewhere beyond the table. Lost.

Without saying a word, Hyunjin subtly lets his hand fall beneath the table, resting it gently over Felix’s thigh. The touch is grounding. A silent message. Felix blinks like he’s waking from somewhere far away. He glances to the side, catches Hyunjin’s eyes briefly, then shifts his hand to brush over Hyunjin’s in return. A small squeeze. Then, he starts eating.

Yeji manages a small smile at them both. “Felix has made a lot of friends here,” She says brightly. “The maids adore him, even the guards. I think it’s impossible not to grow attached to him once you’re around him long enough.”

Camilla blinks at that, almost confused. “Really?” She glances at Felix with a faint tilt of her head. “That’s…interesting. I mean, he never really leaves the castle back at home. He always locks himself in his room, even when we have family friends come. I just assumed he was antisocial. But—that’s a good thing! I'm glad he’s getting out there more.”

Felix’s fork pauses mid-air.

There’s a heartbeat of silence, and then he shoves the next bite into his mouth. Not slowly or gracefully, like usual. No—his fork moves fast, almost frantic, stuffing bites in as if his mother isn’t watching him across the table, judging, scrutinizing him for behavior she’s always hated.

Stop eating too much. Don't drink so loudly. Keep your head down. Don’t embarrass us. Smile when you’re spoken to. It was always like that.

The thing is, he was only ever that way because they made him that way. He wasn’t antisocial. He wasn’t difficult. He was caged and forced to do things against his will. He was barely allowed to leave his room unless summoned by a tutor, a court guest, or for a tightly monitored library visit. Sometimes he’d sneak a little longer in the corridors, hoping to steal the feeling of sunlight or fresh air, but it never lasted.

And then there was Jiho.

Felix swallows hard—too hard—nearly choking on the food in his mouth.

Jiho. Who always found him. Who always had a reason to knock, or barge in, or corner him in the hallway. Who smiled too easily and looked at him too long and made sure he never really felt safe. He would skip meals on purpose. Stay hungry just to avoid that moment: Jiho brushing past him in the hallway or inviting him to talk, or the way he’d sweet-talk the guards to let him into Felix’s wing. Even locked doors hadn’t helped much—not when Jiho knew how to manipulate the servants. Or worse, when he’d convinced Felix to open the door himself.

So no, Felix hadn’t been antisocial. He’d been scared.

And now, here he is, reverting to anxious behavior he almost thought he’d abandoned, while Jiho sits just across the table, smiling like none of that ever happened.

The weight of it all sits heavy in his chest.

“For the time that you all are here,” Queen Hwang begins, “we’ll be hosting a ceremonial social event tonight to celebrate the union of our families, along with a few seasonal events and gatherings like the hunting contest later this week. With the contest, we encourage participation from all parties and continents,” She continues, her eyes drifting across the table. “It’s a vast, long-standing tradition in our kingdom. A test of skill, patience, and strategy, and we are very glad you all could come personally to see it.”

Queen Lee smiles politely. “I’ve heard much about the contests. I imagine it’s quite the spectacle in the snow. Much harder to accomplish, no?”

“It is,” Yeji chimes in warmly. “Especially when the blizzard comes down from the mountain. Everyone will be in our kingdom for it, including Ravena, so it’s sure to be a grand event. They’re always competitive…”

Dinner passes in a blur for Felix.

He continues to eat mechanically, only speaking when addressed. His nerves skitter across his skin like static—tight, buzzing, unbearable. Every word around him feels louder than necessary. Every glance, every subtle shift in tone, registers like a needle. All he can think about is escape. His bedroom. The bath. Somewhere quiet, somewhere without all these eyes. He hates the way Jiho watches him—like he’s waiting for something. Like a wolf playing sheep, teeth tucked behind a neutral smile. And he hates the way Camilla leans closer to Hyunjin with each passing minute, her laughter too light, her compliments too personal. He loves his sister, truly, but there are lines she’s never minded crossing, especially when she finds interest in someone pretty like her dolls.

And Hyunjin is beautiful.

Still, Felix wishes she wouldn’t look at him like that.

His father, after offering curt parting words, has gone off with Hyunjin’s father to discuss military alignments. Or more accurately—to pressure King Hwang into finalizing the long theorized merger of their forces. Weapons. Magic. Tactical territory. That’s all his father has ever wanted from this engagement. Not happiness. Not peace of mind for his son. Just strategic gain, cloaked in ceremonial silk. His mother, on the other hand, seeks a legacy. The symbolic union of two once-warring nations. An end to the centuries-long feud. But even she can’t seem to hold her tongue when the air grows tense—and the cracks in their so-called unity show themselves clearly, like fault lines across porcelain.

Felix lowers his eyes to the plate again, stomach already full but still eating, chewing, swallowing. Just something to do. Something to keep from looking across the table. Something to keep from speaking.

When they all finally wrap up formalities, the castle staff falls into motion. Maids line the halls in neat rows, ready to guide the visiting royals to their guest rooms. After that, they’ll be given a tour of the castle grounds; and once night falls, they’ll all join back together to have a ceremonial event in the castle’s beautiful greenhouse once it gets darker and the fairy lights start to come on.

As the crowd begins to disperse, Hyunjin reaches for Felix’s hand, and he slips his own into the alpha’s grip like it’s second nature. There’s no discussion, no excuse needed. Hyunjin just gives him a look—gentle but laced with concern—and leads him away, away from the laughter, the polished smiles, the judgment masked behind pleasant tones. They walk quietly, side by side, through winding corridors and sun-soaked arches, past guards and courtiers who bow as they pass. Only once they’re out of sight does Felix finally exhale, long and slow. He lets his shoulder brush against Hyunjin’s.

Hyunjin’s study is right next to his room, connected through a quiet area that rarely sees visitors. Felix has been there many times, but only ever at night—when the room is low-lit and mysterious, warmed by flickering candlelight and the low crackle of fire. But this morning—he realizes as they step inside—it’s different.

The windows are revealed from the curtains, and sunlight pours through the tall panes, casting golden beams across the rich hardwood floors. The heavy curtains have been pulled back, revealing the sprawling forest view just outside. A breeze drifts in, stirring the papers on Hyunjin’s desk and making the hanging charms near the sill chime softly. Felix pauses just past the threshold, startled by the change in atmosphere. It’s not dark, or closed off, or intimidating anymore. It’s open. Airy. It smells faintly of ink and lavender oil. Books are stacked neatly, and soft cushions are arranged on the window seat, half-draped in morning light.

Hyunjin guides him toward the desk, then tugs him gently toward one of the new plush chairs behind it. The chair isn’t like Hyunjin’s own—a simple cushioned stool—it’s bigger, more comfortable, meant for someone to lounge rather than work. Hyunjin leans against the desk beside him, watching him quietly. For a moment, he says nothing. Just looks at Felix like he’s cataloguing every twitch of his fingers, every line of tension in his shoulders, every shallow breath. Then, softly, he says, “I had it made for you.”

Felix looks up at him. “What?”

Hyunjin smiles a little, one hand brushing the edge of the desk as he speaks. “The second chair. I didn’t like the idea of you having to lie on the couch away from me every time you visited. I thought…if you were going to be in here a lot, you should have your own seat.”

Felix’s eyes soften. “Thank you. I’m honestly surprised you think about small things like this,”

“I think about you,” Hyunjin replies simply, still watching him. “Sometimes more than I should. I get distracted too often.”

Felix’s heart stutters. “I…I could say the same.”

Hyunjin smiles, then carefully parts his lips and asks, “How are you feeling? After everything.”

Felix fidgets with the cuff of his sleeve. “I wish my mother weren’t how she is. She always… singles me out. Always has. And my sister—” He pauses, then bites his tongue. “I can promise you I’m not antisocial like she claimed, I just… It’s not easy for me to trust people. And half the time I couldn’t even leave my room because—” He stops himself, jaw tightening as his voice falters. He wrings his hands.

Hyunjin leans forward, resting an elbow on the desk. “Because…?”

Felix shakes his head quickly. “It’s nothing much. Just—things were different at home, that’s all.”

Hyunjin doesn’t press. His eyes linger on Felix’s face, reading between the silences. But instead of prying, he offers something else. His voice lowers, soft with understanding. “Even if you were antisocial, that’d be fine. But after meeting your family today, I’m starting to grasp their dynamics more after what you told me. And if anyone in this castle dares to call you antisocial again,” Hyunjin adds lightly, “I’ll hand them a written record of how many people came asking for you in just one week. Including the opinions of the maids, the knights, and our very enthusiastic gardener.”

That earns a small laugh, a real one, soft and tired.

Hyunjin straightens, then crosses slowly around the desk and stops in front of Felix’s chair. His gaze flickers downward. “May I?”

Felix blinks up at him, confused for only a second—then nods. One hand lifts to cup Felix’s cheek. The other brushes back his hair, fingertips soft at his temple. For a moment, Hyunjin just looks at him—like he’s memorizing him all over again in the morning light.

Then he leans in.

The kiss is warm. Present. Like an answer to every cruel thing he was made to believe about himself. Felix exhales shakily into it, his hands clinging to Hyunjin’s sleeves as if afraid he might drift away too quickly. But Hyunjin doesn’t. His hands move with care, slowly undoing the buttons of Felix’s shirt one by one, like he’s unwrapping something delicate. Felix stiffens at first—then relaxes as Hyunjin mouths just beneath his ear, breath hot against sensitive skin.

A sharp gasp leaves his lips when Hyunjin sucks lightly there, and his entire body shudders.

“Still okay?” Hyunjin murmurs, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

Felix nods. “Y-Yeah…”

Hyunjin hums—then trails lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck. He stops just beneath Felix’s scent gland, where the skin is unmarked and vulnerable, and lingers. There, he sucks just hard enough to leave a faint hickey—hard enough to feel, light enough to hide. Felix’s breath stutters, his fingers tightening in Hyunjin’s shirt. His heart races, pounding against his ribs like it wants to be heard. When Hyunjin finally pulls back, there’s a flicker in his eyes—something dark, restrained, hungry. He stares down at Felix like he wants to devour him whole, and for a beat, the air between them shifts. It’s heavy with want, thick enough to drown in.

But he doesn’t move.

He exhales slowly through his nose and presses a firm kiss to Felix’s forehead instead—grounding himself. Then, after a moment, he says, “…Would you let me paint you?”

Felix looks at him surprised. “Paint me?”

Hyunjin nods, his gaze dropping briefly to Felix’s open shirt, his flushed skin still kissed with faint marks and color. “Yes, though you’re already a masterpiece. I just want to capture it. All of it. The way you look right now—in this light. Everything.”

And that’s how their time is spent before they begin getting ready for dinner later. Felix sits before Hyunjin, perched on the edge of the chaise near the window where the light spills in golden and soft. His shirt is gone, discarded over the back of the chair, and his hair falls in gentle waves over his eyes and neck. His skin is flushed from Hyunjin’s touch, faint marks barely visible at the base of his throat—nothing too bold, just enough to be remembered.

Hyunjin sits across from him, legs crossed, a small easel before him, and sleeves rolled up. He’s focused, brush in hand, eyes flicking between the palette and Felix’s chest, then back again. Occasionally he’ll pause to mix a new color, only to glance up and catch Felix watching him.

“You’re staring again,” Felix murmurs, lips curving in a lopsided smile.

“I’m painting,” Hyunjin replies, not looking away.

“You haven’t touched the canvas in a full minute.”

“I’m memorizing details.”

Felix laughs softly and leans back, arms bracing behind him. “You’re unbelievable, I’m sure you are.”

Hyunjin smiles. “You’re the unbelievable one. Do you even know what you look like right now? You’re the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Felix glances at the floor shyly.

For a long moment, neither of them says anything. Just the quiet scratch of bristles against canvas, the warmth of late afternoon light, and the soft thrum of something between worship and longing in the space between them.

-.—.-

The room is quiet save for the rustle of fabric and the faint chime of the clock tower in the distance, signaling the late hour. Felix stands by the wardrobe now, buttoning up a fresh, ivory-toned shirt—the one Yeji insisted he wear for tonight’s event, which happens to be in the castle's large greenhouse. It’s soft and flowing with embroidery along the cuffs, and it pairs perfectly with the velvet of the seafoam-colored vest folded neatly on the bed. Hyunjin watches him from the edge of the bed, still in his undershirt—somewhat smudged with paint, hair half up in a loose ribbon that Felix had carefully secured minutes earlier. “I might have to keep you away from everyone tonight,” Hyunjin says, voice low as his gaze trails over Felix’s figure.

“You’re one to talk,” Felix scoffs, cheeks tinting pink. “My sister seems to have taken quite a liking to you. I might be the one who needs to lock you up.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Hyunjin replies smoothly, lips tugging into a grin. “As long as you’re the one keeping the key.”

Felix tries not to smile back—but fails, rolling his eyes as he reaches for the vest. “Get dressed, Your Highness. You’re going to make us late.”

By the time the sun sinks behind the snow-draped peaks, the castle greenhouse has been transformed into something almost otherworldly. Moonlight spills through the glass ceiling in pale, silvery streaks, casting soft reflections across the pearl floor. Long banquet tables stretch beneath a canopy of fairy lights and trailing vines, their golden glow flickering gently like stars caught in a web.

The tables are set with delicate china, gold-rimmed glasses, and centerpieces made of winter blossoms—frost-kissed white roses, pale camellias, and sprigs of holly tucked between bowls of glistening fruit. The air is laced with the sweet, clean scent of earth and fresh petals, while soft harp music drifts like smoke beneath the low murmur of conversation.

Guests begin to filter in—draped in velvet coats and silks, their laughter subdued but polished, eyes glancing upward in awe at the glowing canopy. It’s elegant, enchanting…and just enough to leave a lasting impression on anyone who enters.

Felix walks in with Hyunjin at his side, fingers brushing lightly together but never fully linked. They don’t have to be. The way people part for them—how eyes lift, heads turn—is enough to make their presence known. Near one of the large tables of the greenhouse, Jiho and his family are already gathered. They’re draped in regal fabrics—deep crimson, soft ivory, and gold-threaded silk—all embroidered with the royal crest that gleams under the light. Jiho stands at the center of it all, effortlessly composed, his smile polished to perfection and impossible to read. Beside him, Camilla glows in a gown of rose gold sequins that catch the last traces of twilight.

On the opposite side of the space, Seungmin, Jisung, and several other knights and court figures from Hyunjin’s side are seated or chatting in small clusters, laughter bubbling up here and there. Yeji and Queen Hwang speak near the floral archway, their voices hushed in casual conversation with a few other guests coming in.

A few minutes after everyone has settled into their seats, the soft creak of the greenhouse doors draws every eye. Conversation slows, then halts entirely as the faint sweep of silk over stone follows the sound. Heads turn. A hush falls over the space like a held breath. Irene’s mother enters with elegance, her gown trailing behind her like flowing water. Her expression is a perfect mask of composure—proud, untouched by scandal. Not a single hair is out of place, her chin slightly lifted as if daring anyone to meet her gaze.

It’s the first time most have seen her since the incident at the temple. Since Irene was found poisoned. Since Felix vanished for days, and whispers stirred in every corridor of the palace. “I do hope I’m not too late,” She says, voice smooth and airy. Behind her, Irene walks in, just as graceful and composed, in a dress the color of lavender, her dark hair braided with quartz crystals. All eyes shift to her, and for a moment, there’s a pause in the air—curious, expectant. (She looks a lot better than before, considering she was absolutely hysterical and as pale as paper.)

“I wanted to introduce my daughter properly,” Lady Han continues, coming right up to Felix’s family, addressing the Sunshine royals. “To your elegance, Jiho, especially. They’ve met before in passing, but not formally, and I thought it appropriate.” She smiles, then turns toward Jiho. “Irene is a brilliant conversationalist. I’m sure you’ll both find common ground.”

Irene steps forward, flashing a small smile. Jiho rises to greet her, offering a bow. “It’s a pleasure,” He says. “You look lovely tonight.”

“As do you,” Irene replies, dipping her head, but her eyes flick past him—and land squarely on Felix. He feels it immediately. That chill, sickly fake look. She holds his gaze a little too long before stepping closer. Her smile stretches, but there’s nothing remotely kind in it. “It’s been a while,” She says softly to Felix, reaching out—her hand lifting to touch his shoulder. “I really wanted to—-“

But she never makes it.

Hyunjin’s fingers close around her wrist before she even gets close. The movement is small—but instant. A few conversations near them falter. Someone’s breath catches. A glass nearly slips from someone’s fingers. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow. “Are you really that shameless?” He starts. “Or, perhaps, are you foolish?”

Irene flinches. The grip on her wrist tightens—not painfully, but enough to still her movements, to make her realize this isn’t some harmless reaction. Her polished composure begins to slip, just barely.

“Jin?” She says, voice tight with unease, trying to twist out of his hold. “What are you talking about—?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” Hyunjin doesn’t raise his voice, but every word drips with restrained fury. “It was bad enough when you got your brother involved. At least he was the one who had the decency to take responsibility. You? You just pretend like none of it ever happened.”

Irene stiffens, panic flickering across her eyes. “That wasn’t—It wasn’t like that—”

Jiho raises an eyebrow, his expression morphing into something confused. He looks between them slowly, then at Felix—at the tension stiff in his shoulders, the way he’s gone nearly motionless beside Hyunjin—and then at Lady Han. He tilts his head. “Could it be…” He begins lightly, far too lightly for what he’s about to say, “that something happened between my cousin and your daughter?” He raises a brow, all innocent curiosity. “Did she…do something to him?”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Lady Han’s expression shifts. “No,” She says quickly, too quickly. “No, of course not. My daughter has the heart of an angel. She would never—nothing happened.” Her eyes flick to Irene, sharp and warning. “Isn’t that right, darling?”

“I—I didn’t,” Irene stammers, voice tight. “Nothing happened. I never laid a hand on him—”

“You did,” Hyunjin snaps. “Or was everything I was told a lie? You were cruel. And what’s worse—you still are. I know you haven't changed, and whatever you were going to tell him is of the same caliber as before. A lie, a feigned apology. Must I cut—“

“I think that’s enough,” Queen Hwang says smoothly, voice firm. She rises slightly, just enough to shift the room. “This dinner is not the place for private accusations—no matter how serious. If there is more to discuss, it will be discussed with the appropriate parties. In private.”

Hyunjin lets go of Irene’s wrist. She pulls back instantly, clutching her arm as if burned, though his grip had never even bruised. Her face is white with humiliation, her trembling lips parted as if to speak—but no words come. “This is your final warning,” Hyunjin says, tone blistering. “Don’t ever show yourself before me again. And don’t even think about coming near Felix.” The room holds its breath. Every eye is on them now, but Hyunjin doesn’t care. He only sees her. And Felix. “I may have tolerated you because you’re Yeji’s friend, but that excuse won’t protect you anymore.”

Irene stares at him like he’s struck her. Her chest rises and falls fast, and for a moment, it looks like she might cry—or lash out. But she doesn’t. She swallows her pride, steps back, and bows stiffly to the table. “My apologies,” She says hoarsely, to no one in particular. “I’ve lost my appetite. Please excuse me, I’m…I’m feeling a bit unwell.”

Without another word, she turns on her heel and walks away, her mother hurrying after her in a flurry of silks and stiff smiles. There’s a beat of silence. Then Queen Lee delicately lifts her wine glass, as if nothing just happened. “Well,” She hums, “The greenhouse truly is beautiful tonight.”

Jiho’s eyes remain fixed on where Irene vanished. His smile is faint—too faint—and there’s a flicker in his expression, like a fire just starting to catch. “Very beautiful,” He echoes, but it’s almost a whisper. Almost bitter. He’s thinking. About what Hyunjin said. About the strange tension laced in Felix’s expression. About Irene’s retreat—and her mother’s hasty exit. Something happened. Something ugly. And now Jiho wants to know exactly what it was. His gaze flicks to Felix then—to the slight twitch in his jaw, the way his shoulders hunch as if trying to disappear—and suddenly, Jiho isn’t just curious.

He’s irritated.

Chapter Text

As the tension slowly fades from the air, conversation resumes in hushed tones, cautious and scattered at first—then gradually picking up with more ease, as if the incident with Irene had never happened. Guests turn back to their plates, wine glasses are refilled, and the soft clinking of cutlery blends with the gentle background murmur of voices.

And then, the music changes.

The soft plucking of harps falls away, overtaken by the sweep of strings tuning into a grand waltz. It blooms with the swell of violins, a romantic yet formal rhythm meant to grab the room's attention. The lights dim just enough for the floating candles above to glow brighter, casting a warm sheen over the polished floor bellow, perfectly framed by the bloom of white orchids and flickering petals of ivy overhead. The signal is clear: it's time for the first dance. Hyunjin turns toward Felix, his expression gentling into something almost shy.

His voice is low, near the shell of Felix's ear. "Would you like to dance with me?"

But before Felix can answer—before he can even smile—

"Felix," another voice cuts in, velvet-smooth, from just behind them. Jiho. He steps forward from where he'd been standing with Camila, now entirely focused on them. He's all elegance in his tailored gold-stitched coat, one gloved hand extended, his other behind his back. "May I have the first dance?" His tone is light, teasing, almost casual. But there's an unmistakable edge in the glint of his eyes—like a move in a game no one else knows they're playing.

It hits the table like a dropped stone in still water.

Several guests nearby glance over. Even Queen Lee arches an eyebrow, though she says nothing. Camila shifts behind Jiho, clearly surprised. The pause stretches—elegant, expectant, awkward.

Because everyone knows the tradition.

If the king and queen don't open the first dance, it goes to the engagement couple. To deviate from that is to make a statement—either about status, or relationship, or intention. And Jiho knows that. Everyone here knows that. Felix hesitates, caught somewhere between confusion and instinct. His gaze snaps to Hyunjin beside him, searching his face.

Hyunjin doesn't speak. His expression is calm—too calm—but Felix notices the way his jaw flexes once, his fingers twitching faintly against the white linen tablecloth. He's not angry. Not quite. But something bristles under his skin, subtle but unmistakable. Like a storm waiting for permission to pass through. Then, slowly, he offers a small, reassuring smile—tight around the edges but genuine where it counts. His hand brushes Felix's arm once before dropping.

"Go ahead," He eventually murmurs, voice just low enough for only Felix to hear. "I'll be watching from here."

There's a subtle weight to it—not possessive, not cold. Just steady. Like a quiet promise that he'll be exactly where Felix left him. Felix gives a faint nod, but something in his shoulders tenses. Jiho, still standing with his hand out, dips his head slightly in acknowledgment—either of Hyunjin's permission or the tension that preceded it, it's hard to say. "Thank you," Jiho says, eyes flicking to Hyunjin for a beat before returning to Felix. Then his voice softens, playful. "Shall we, cousin?"

Felix carefully places his hand in Jiho's, letting him lead him out toward the polished glass floor where candlelight shines like light over ice. All around, guests turn to watch—some curious, some surprised, a few whispering behind lifted glasses. Jiho moves gracefully to the middle of the floor, one hand at Felix's back, the other guiding their steps as the orchestra swells. And though he smiles, it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Not like Hyunjin's did. Not even close. The music swells—a slow, sweeping waltz that echoes off the greenhouse walls and drips like honey through the hanging vines.

"Your husband," Jiho starts as he guides them into a spin, close enough that Felix feels his breath tickle his ear, "is actually very adorable. I expected him to be harsh and cruel, all sharp edges and cold stares. But he seems just the opposite of the rumors ."

Felix's brows rise in surprise, a small laugh escaping as they rotate again. "I thought the same at first," He admits, voice fond. "But he's very sweet. I'm lucky to have him."

"Yes, that is very nice," Jiho agrees to his surprise, but there's something off about his tone. "Though, I think he's desperate to keep you to himself at the same time."

Felix blinks. "What do you mean?"

Jiho's gaze dips, slowly and shamelessly, tracing the soft curves of Felix's lips, his flushed cheeks, the faintest edge of pink just visible above the collar of his shirt where Hyunjin had marked him earlier. "Look at you," Jiho says, voice like silk. "Covered like a canvas no one else is allowed to touch."

Felix stiffens slightly in his hold, realizing what he's implying. His fingers twitch nervously where they rest against Jiho's shoulder, but he forces a calm smile. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Jiho tilts his head, amusement curling in his voice. "He practically growled when I asked to dance with you. What do you call the way he's been watching me this entire time like he's ready to rip my throat out?

"That's because it's traditional for the engaged couple to dance first," Felix replies, tone brutal but his heart beating fast. "And you interrupted before he could ask."

Jiho chuckles. "So he's territorial and polite. Protective and possessive. Two sides of the same coin, no?" Their pace slows as the music lingers in a breathless note, and Jiho's fingers press just a touch more firmly into Felix's waist, though not enough to draw attention. "I don't blame him, of course," He adds, voice lower now. "If you were mine, I'd be protective too."

Felix meets his gaze, wary and defensive. It's hard to hide the disgust in his eyes. What an odd thing to say, he thinks to himself. "We're cousins."

A beat. Jiho's smile is faint. "We are."

The second waltz winds into something a touch more theatrical—strings rising, tempo deepening, drawing them into more elaborate turns and footwork. Jiho's hand tightens just slightly at Felix's waist as they move, the touch still courtly, but more assertive than before.

Trying to shake the heaviness from his chest, Felix lifts his voice, gentle and polite. "How has Camilla been doing back home? I know she doesn't leave the kingdom often."

Jiho raises an eyebrow at the shift in topic but plays along. "She's been well, though Mother's caught her sneaking out with her friends again. This time with a boy, if you'd believe it."

Felix huffs softly. "That sounds like her."

"She's also managed to triple the royal budget," Jiho adds dryly. "Apparently every tailor in the capital is her best friend now."

Felix smiles, a real flicker of warmth breaking through the tension. "Still better than her getting into fights."

"She still does that too," Jiho says, amused. "But in gowns now. Lace and bruises, quite the combination."

Their steps drift gently across the floor, and for a moment it almost feels normal, almost as if Felix forgot he was walking in eggshells around him. Almost. Until Jiho speaks again—quieter, pointed.

"Yes, Camilla has her problems. But..." His eyes gleam darkly as they meet Felix's. "You caused your share of troubles too. No?"

Felix's smile fades, his breath catching. Does he know about him running away? The incident with Irene? The problem on his first day of arrival? No, no he couldn't...but there's a possibility he knows about what happened with Seoyeon, if it had really been his doing. "J-Jiho..."

"But we can discuss that later," Jiho cuts in, smooth and final. "In private, you know, how we always do it."

Felix stumbles in his step—not enough to trip, but enough for Jiho to feel it. His fingers tighten reflexively. Jiho doesn't give him time to recover. He twirls Felix outward with a sharp sweep of his arm, then draws him back in—and in the next movement, lifts him cleanly off the ground, twirling him once before setting him down again. Felix barely has time to catch his breath before Jiho leans in again, his voice a whisper near his ear.

"Just keep playing your part, Felix. Our beautiful little sunshine. The perfect, polished doll they all want to see."

Felix goes rigid.

"And let me handle everything else from now on."

The words sink deep. Too deep.

Because he's heard them before.

Not once, but three times now from him. Spoken in the same lilting, poisonous calm just days before Chan's family, under sudden and quiet pressure, ended their engagement. Before everything started to fall apart around him. Felix's lips part, but nothing comes out. His throat has gone tight, dry. His heart is a flutter of panic, barely contained behind his ribs. He wants to scream, or run—but instead, he smiles. He smiles the way he's always been taught to: with grace, with stillness. Just like the puppet Jiho said he was. The song ends finnaly—but this time, Felix doesn't bow. He takes a step back and barely manages to keep the shake from his hands.

Hyunjin lifts a glass of wine to his lips, watching as the dance comes to a gentle end. The rich burgundy catches the candlelight as he tilts the glass, swirling the liquid idly—more for distraction than indulgence.

Across the marble floor, Felix and Jiho part, both smiling with perfect etiquette. Heads dip. Bows exchanged. Not a single note out of place.

"Felix looks handsome tonight, doesn't he?" Jisung comments, standing just beside him with a hand crossed over the other.

Hyunjin hums. "He always does."

Jisung nudges his elbow lightly. "You know, you're gripping your glass like it owes you something."

Hyunjin glances down, realizes he is. He exhales through his nose, loosening his fingers on the stem.

"Relax," Jisung murmurs.

Hyunjin's gaze flicks back to the floor where Felix has now stepped off the marble with Jiho, their bodies angled slightly toward one another in conversation. They look...fine. Composed. Felix isn't recoiling or showing any signs of discomfort. His mouth even quirks faintly in reply to something Jiho says.

For a second, Hyunjin doubts himself.

They look okay together.

Still...

Hyunjin's eyes narrow just a fraction.

Felix has hidden things from him before. Not out of malice—never that. But out of habit. Out of fear. His eating habits, for one. The quiet refusal of morning meals. The long stretches between dinners passed off with a smile. The hollow echo of excuses that didn't register until too late. If Felix could mask something so personal, so basic, for this long...What else could he lock away?

Hyunjin's fingers return to the rim of the glass, circling it once more.

Jisung, noticing the silence, glances at him. "You okay?"

"Fine," Hyunjin answers, but the word tastes wrong in his mouth.

Because Felix might be smiling, but he's is starting to realize that doesn't mean anything at all.Felix has the kind of smile that fools everyone. The kind that softens the eyes, rounds the cheeks, crinkles at the corners just enough to be convincing. It's beautiful—heartbreaking, even—but it's a lie more often than it's the truth. Felix has the skill to bury things so deeply, so elegantly, that no one would ever suspect something is wrong. That anything ever was wrong.

But he's seen enough glimpses to know better.

The faint, raised scars that cross the delicate constellation of freckles on his back and shoulders—evidence of things never spoken aloud. The way he bites the inside of his cheek when anxiety builds. The quiet moments he stares too long at nothing. The times he smiles just a tad too forced, feigned, faintly, like he's hiding something under it. The tears—when they come—are never soft or sudden. They're the result of pressure that's built for days. Weeks. Years. They burst, always after he's tried too long to keep them back.

And the trauma...It leaks out in fragments. Unintentionally. In the way his body freezes at a raised voice, even when it isn't directed at him. The way he flinches from certain kinds of touch. Or jolts awake with trembling hands and wide eyes, breath caught in his throat like a silent scream.

Hyunjin had seen it. Felt it. And yet even he sometimes underestimstes how deep it goes.

So seeing Felix across the room, dancing with his cousin, poised, radiant—means nothing.

And that fact uncertainty settles into his chest like frost. Because if there's one thing he can't afford to lose...It's the truth of what Felix is feeling. Or worse—Felix himself.

-.-.-.-

The cold snowy air bites at her skin, but she hardly notices.

Out at the back of the greenhouse, Irene clutches her arms with trembling fingers. Her breath comes in short, uneven bursts, fogging the night air. The muffled sounds of music and laughter from the greenhouse echo behind her, distant and cruel. Her eyes sting with tears. She blinks them away, but they keep coming. "He didn't mean it," She whispers to herself, voice thin and brittle. "He's not like that. He's just—he's just confused." The wind rushes past, rustling the curls she spent hours having pinned. Her silk sleeves flutter, but she doesn't move. "It's not real," She continues, more forceful now, as if saying it louder will make it true. "Hyunjin's just... he's under a spell. That's all. Felix—Felix put him there."

Her lips curl bitterly, her tears streaking over rouge-painted cheeks. "That omega—he's not innocent. He knows what he's doing. All that false modesty and sweetness...it's an act. It has to be." Her fingers tighten on the edge of the balcony, knuckles whitening. "He's dangerous. He seduced him. Twisted him up in all that soft flesh and honeyed perfume, played the part of a porcelain doll until Hyunjin couldn't tell the difference between lust and love. That's all it is. Pleasure. A trick. He'll see it soon enough. He'll remember who actually stood by him. Who he was meant to be with." She says it like a prayer. Like if she repeats it enough, the world will bend and make it true.

But the silence that greets her is empty. The wind offers no comfort—only the aching truth: Hyunjin didn't look spellbound. He looked furious. And worse—he looked in love. Irene presses her hand over her mouth to muffle the sob that escapes her. But no one is around to hear it. Or at least, that's what she thought.

"Irene." The voice is soft—too soft—and it cuts through the sound of her ragged breaths like silk against glass. She spins around, startled, eyes wide and glistening. There, standing just past the archway of the balcony doors, is Yeji. Backlit by the warm glow of the greenhouse behind her, she looks every inch the composed, radiant crown princess...and yet her expression holds a flicker of something else. Something tired. Wounded.

"Yeji," Irene gasps, barely able to speak through the tightness in her throat.

She rushes toward her without thinking, tears spilling again as she throws her arms around Yeji's shoulders, clinging like a child desperate for comfort. "I didn't mean for that to happen–" She sobs, "I just—I really came to apologize. But your brother doesn't understand. And now everyone's looking at me like I'm some kind of—"

"Why are you still doing this?" Yeji's voice, still gentle, cuts through Irene's frantic rambling.

Irene jerks back, blinking up at her in confusion. "W-What?"

Yeji exhales slowly, then raises a hand to her temple, rubbing lightly as if trying to ease a headache. "I didn't want to believe it," She says, her voice lower now, eyes dark with disappointment. "I made excuses for you, even when others came forward. I told myself they were mistaken. That you were just hurting, or confused."

"Yeji..." Irene's voice trembles, her chest tightening.

"But when Jeongin told me what happened at the temple..." Yeji pauses, her gaze hardening just slightly. "And when I heard what you did to Felix...multiple times now, and from him himself.." Yeji shakes her head. "He's family, Irene. He's my brother now. Our family. And you—" her voice cracks just slightly, "You lied. You hurt him. You made him feel unsafe in his own home."

"No," Irene whispers, backing a step away, disbelief washing over her. "No, I didn't mean—he's manipulating everyone! You have to see that, right? He's—he's—"

Yeji steps forward slowly, quiet and firm. "He's surviving. And he's still more graceful than I would've been, after what you did."

Irene's jaw tightens, her breath hitching. "You believe them over me?"

"I believe the version of you I've seen lately," Yeji says quietly. "And I don't like her very much."

The words strike harder than a slap.

Irene stares at her, stunned into silence, the weight of Yeji's words cracking through the last of her denial like ice splintering underfoot. The ache in her chest deepens—not with rage, not with jealousy—but with something far worse:

Shame.

-.-.-

The music in the greenhouse dips into something more upbeat, laughter bubbling from the clusters of nobles as the celebration continues in full swing. Hyunjin remains near the long table, his brows faintly knit—not quite frowning, but close. Footsteps eventually approach, crisp and confident, and Hyunjin doesn't need to turn to know who it is. "Where's Felix?" He asks, turning his head to stare at the peculiar mage before him.

Jiho comes to a stop beside him, holding a glass of something amber. "He went out to get some fresh air," He says casually. "Said he might've danced a little too hard."

Hyunjin tilts his head. "Did he?"

Jiho glances over at him, unbothered. "Nonetheless," He continues, voice soft but pointed, "There is something I'd like to discuss with you. Why don't we go somewhere...away from the noise?"

Hyunjin studies him in silence for a moment, then sets his glass down. "Lead the way."

From his left, Jisung shifts, and their eyes meet. Jisung doesn't say anything, but in his gaze holds a silent agreement. In a lounge room upstairs, a fireplace crackles softly nearby, casting warm light across the glass decanter resting untouched on a low table between them. Jiho stands by the window, arms crossed loosely, gazing out at the snowy gardens as Hyunjin settles into one of the leather chairs across from him. Jiho speaks first, his tone casual, but there's weight beneath the ease of his words. "You know...there are many reasons I should be grateful to you."

Hyunjin's gaze lifts. "Grateful?"

"Yes." Jiho turns from the window and approaches the seat opposite him. "You're patient. Attentive. Sensitive enough to notice when something's wrong with Felix...and gentle enough to try and fix it, even when he pretends nothing is."

Hyunjin leans back slightly. "What are you trying to say?"

Jiho pauses before speaking again, his expression more somber now. "I hoped I wouldn't have to bring this up. I assumed, with time, things might ease on their own. But since we're alone, I'd rather be honest." He clasps his hands together, brows furrowing. "Felix suffers from a very sorrowful heart. It's always been that way. His parents...they're not the warmest. Not with him. It took them a long time to accept him. Even now, I'm not sure they do. I didn't have the abilities I do now to protect him from them, after all, we were only seven at the time. But it's still something I regret. When I became older and more responsible," He continues, "My aunt entrusted me to assist Felix in his studies—since I was a top student at the time, always neat and dependable. She thought I could be a good influence on him. And in a way, I tried to be. I followed every rule. Corrected his posture, his speech, his handwriting. I taught him how to please a room before he even understood what the word 'manipulate' meant." He gives a humorless smile and shakes his head, sinking slightly into the plush arm of the couch.

"I didn't realize until much later that I wasn't helping. I was molding him into what the adults wanted, just another pressure added to the weight on his shoulders."

Hyunjin listens, silent and still, but Jiho can feel the tension simmering beneath his calm expression.

Jiho exhales slowly. "He used to come to lessons with red eyes. Sometimes he'd smile to keep me from asking questions. Other times he'd go quiet when his parents were mentioned, like saying their names might summon something worse. You know, his father especially is the issue. His father...wasn't just cold. He was cruel. Violent, even. I saw the aftermath more times than I care to count. I saw the way Felix flinched at sudden movements. The way he used to hide behind long shirts in the summer. Once, when he was thirteen, I came across something horrible. Scars—on his entire back, marked. Like someone tried to brand him in the form of a lesson. You've seen them, haven't you?"

Hyunjin goes still. His jaw tenses.

Jiho tilts his head, his voice gentler now. "No?" There's a beat of silence. Then Jiho exhales, a sad smile tugging at his mouth. "Then maybe you're not as close as you think. Or maybe he's just still afraid. That even now, even with you, there's a line he can't cross."

Hyunjin's chest tightens. He has seen the scars. Once, fleetingly—when Felix was changing during his rut, his back turned for barely a second before he caught him flinching and dressing faster—but he doesn't say that. Does this mean Felix's father was the one who did it? Jiho's words are heavy—strategically so, laced with just enough sorrow and sympathy to seem sincere. But there's something in the way he speaks, in the precision of his pauses and the soft tones of his voice, that raises a blaring warning in Hyunjin's chest. Still, he says nothing. He's thinking too much. Thinking about Felix's silence, his scars, the way Jiho is offering it all up so neatly. Too neatly, considering everything Felix has said to him about his cousin.

Still, he should keep that in mind until he can truly narrow it down to his father. "Though, let's not talk about such a sore topic. I'm sorry for bringing that up, I thought he would've told you." Jiho apologizes. "I think that's when I first started realizing how well Felix learned to perform. He turned his pain into a talent. A kind of armor. And now...even when he's hurting, he knows how to keep everyone fooled. He looks happy and he seems much better now, thankfully. But I still worry for him in many ways. That's why I'm thankful he found you, and could find greater stability. Even though some people may be displeased with your engagement and see it as a...threat."

-.-.-.-

Felix's leans against the balcony rail, head tipped back, trying to breathe. The scent of frost and rose vines barely registers past the thick, gnawing weight in his chest. Distant harp music drifts through the open doors behind him, muffled by laughter and clinking glasses—but none of it touches him. His fingers curl tight around the stone, knuckles paling.

Stupid.

He should've known Jiho wouldn't come here without an agenda. Should've seen the warning signs, the way Jiho smiled like he knew something Felix didn't. Like he still had leverage—because maybe he did. Felix closes his eyes. Tries to shut out the voice in his head, but it follows him like a shadow. You let him twirl you around like a toy. Let him say those things, touch you, speak about Hyunjin like it meant nothing. Maybe it does mean nothing.

He shakes his head hard, forcing the thoughts down. But even now, the memory of Jiho's whisper crawls under his skin: "Keep playing the part, like you always do. A beautiful puppet."

Felix grips the railing harder, until his palms ache.

How much longer can he keep this up? Jiho clearly isn't just visiting. He's here with intention. With plans. Ones that involve peeling back every careful layer Felix's rebuilt since arriving in this palace—and ruining it, piece by piece. Felix breathes in sharply. Tries to center himself.

He has Hyunjin now. He's not alone anymore.

But then—

Why can't he tell him the truth?

He swallows. Looks out across the darkened gardens, the snow-dusted hedges gleaming under moonlight, and wonders grimly what the rest of the week will look like. He wants to tell Hyunjin everything. Wants to believe he can, and fill in the small fragments he's given from time to time. But he can't. Because if Jiho finds out—if he even suspects that Felix told someone—everything will unravel. Not just the facade Felix has carefully built, but him. His body. His safety. The threats Jiho once whispered in passing weren't empty. They never were.

Jiho knows things. Has connections. Power. Charm. Enough to twist stories until Felix becomes the villain, the seducer, the liar who broke apart kingdoms. And if Jiho decides to act on it...if he decides Felix is no longer worth keeping quiet...

The things he could do—would do—aren't just idle threats. Jiho has already proven what he's capable of. The nights Felix can't remember fully, but feels in his body. The ones that come back to him in flashes—hazy and disjointed—but sharp in all the wrong places. The soreness that lasted for days. The bruises that bloomed in places no one could ask about. The moments he stared at himself in the mirror and didn't recognize what looked back. The silence. The overwhelming, shattering silence. The threat of what Jiho might do if he finds out Felix has said anything—told anyone the truth—isn't just fear. It's certainty. There will be consequences. And not the kind he can walk away from. The—

"Goldie!"

A small voice cuts through the fog, light and bright and unmistakably young.

Felix flinches, chest tightening, before he turns toward the sound. It's Anaiyia—bundled in a little cloak that trails behind her like a cape, her curls wild from running. She beams at him, one mismatched mittened hand raised in greeting. "Anai said you were hiding from me somewhere, but I said 'nuh-uh, he's just in his thinking place!' And I was right!" She says proudly, like she's found treasure. "I knew you'd be out here!"

Felix blinks, still caught halfway between the dark pit of his thoughts and the sound of her innocent joy. The contrast makes his throat tighten. "I wasn't hiding from you," He says softly, crouching to her level. "Just...taking a moment, like you said."

Anaiyia stares at him seriously, then looks up and squints like she's inspecting him. "Your eyebrows were sad," She announces. "So I knew it."

"My eyebrows?" He repeats, a breath of laughter escaping him despite everything.

"Yep. You do the squishy wrinkle thing here—" She pokes between his brows "—when you're thinking about stuff that makes your chest hurt."

Felix's smile falters. Before he can speak, she suddenly throws her arms around his waist, little hands barely meeting at the back. It's a clumsy hug, but full of warmth. "You don't have to think about sad things alone," She says quietly, as if to keep privacy between them. "You have jinnie. And our family. And the garden frogs. And even if you do cry, I won't tell."

Felix closes his eyes, and for a split second, the weight in his chest becomes too much. He kneels down and wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly. "Thank you, Anaiyia"

She giggles. "You're welcome Goldie! Now—do you wanna try my tiara on? My mommy just got it for me yesterday."

"Ah, no, that's okay. It's your tiara, and you're a princess," Felix says with a gentle laugh, crouching beside her. "I wouldn't dare put it on—"

Anaiyia's lower lip juts out in a pout, her arms crossed stubbornly. "But—but it would look much better on you, Goldie. It's my crown—and I say you have to wear it!"

Felix can't help the small, fond smile tugging at his lips. "Is that so?"

Just as she climbs onto her tiptoes, tiara wobbling dangerously in her mittened hands, a cool voice cuts through the air behind them—

"Oh, I see you've been chatting with her young highness today, Felix."

Felix straightens on instinct, every muscle taut as he turns to see Jiho stepping onto the balcony. He's composed as ever—hands behind his back, face calm—but there's a certain look glint in his eye that tells Felix he's in the mood for bothering him.

Anaiyia lights up. "Mage Jiho!" She gasps, entirely unaware of the tension that's suddenly threaded between the two older figures. "Goldie was sad, so I told him he should wear my crown to feel better!"

Jiho smiles, all charm. "How kind of you." He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "But I'm afraid I need to steal him now. Just for a moment."

Felix's throat tightens. He forces a polite smile, nodding once—because what else can he do?

Anaiyia pouts again, clearly displeased. "But we were still talking—"

Jiho takes a step closer, then crouches slowly to meet her eyes, lips still curved in that charming smile—but something in the shift of his voice or the sharpness of his gaze must unsettle her. Because she suddenly goes quiet. Her small hand grabs onto the back of Felix's coat, and she hides inches behind him, peeking over his leg with wide, wary eyes. The crown dangles in her other hand, forgotten.

Jiho notices. His smile doesn't waver, but his eyes flick to the movement like a spark catching dry leaves. "Oh?" he murmurs, feigning surprise. "I didn't mean to frighten you, little one."

Felix lowers his gaze just slightly, heart pounding.

"She's just shy," He says softly, angling himself instinctively in front of her.

Jiho straightens slowly, brushing invisible dust from the sleeve of his coat. "Of course. My mistake." Then he looks directly at Felix again, a glint of amusement—or warning—behind his eyes. "But I'll still need a moment of your time. If that's alright."

Felix forces another nod, barely managing to glance down at Anaiyia with how stiff his head is. "It's okay, why don't you go back down to your brother? I'll be down there soon, alright?"

She doesn't speak, only tightens her grip on his coat briefly before letting go.

"I was about to go back inside with her," Felix says once she's left, a thread of wariness woven beneath his calm. "But it seems you couldn't wait to pull me aside again."

Jiho offers a unbothered shrug as he walks just a little too close. "Well, I did say we'd talk, didn't I? And when have I ever needed to request time with you? You should've seen your husband, by the way. He was reluctant to let me go. Like he knew something."

Felix swallows hard, but says nothing, keeping his expression as still as possible. Jiho leans back against the balcony railing, stretching his arms out as if this were some lazy, scenic break. But then his gaze drops—calculating, pointed. "Little rats have been following you around," He murmurs. "Wherever you go. Every hallway. Every breath."

Felix tenses.

Jiho's eyes narrow further, the smirk vanishing from his mouth as his tone darkens, just enough to make Felix's stomach turn. "It's interesting. They act like I'm a danger to you." He lets the words hang there, sharp and cold like fog creeping in. "Now...why would that be?"

Felix's throat goes dry.

Jiho takes a step forward.

"Did you say something about me?" His voice drops, honeyed but venom-laced. "Something horrible enough that not one, four knights are on standby every time you so much as step away from the main areas?"

Felix's mind blanks. His fingers twitch against the hem of his coat, chest tightening as his thoughts spiral. The air feels thinner.

He spaces out.

Everything goes quiet—until Jiho speaks again, voice cutting through the fog.

"Felix, answer me."

Felix blinks. His eyes refocus, snapping toward Jiho's. The edge in that tone pulls him back to himself—but not without the echo of panic curling at the base of his spine.

He swallows hard, trying to steady the tremor in his voice. "No, no. You know I wouldn't. That's not the case. You've never..." his throat tightens, "You've never done anything bad to me. I just—have a personal knight. That's all."

Jiho tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching as if amused. "Why?" he asks slowly. "Is the castle's security not good enough? Is your husband not protecting you the way he should?"

"No, it's..." Felix hesitates, then forces a small breath. "It's required. Artevmia has everyone in the royal family choose a knight once they reach a certain rank. I'm part of that now."

"I see." Jiho hums thoughtfully, gaze sharpening despite his smile. "And since you're part of their family now... tell me, which do you think is better?"

Felix doesn't even pause.

"Ours. Of course."

The answer slips out, automatic—reflexive. The kind he's learned to give. Jiho's smile returns, curling with satisfaction. "I thought you'd say that." He leans in a little, voice lowering like it's meant to be a secret, a pact between them. "Old habits die hard, hm?"

Felix doesn't respond. He can't. His fingers dig into the fabric at his sides as the weight of Jiho's presence coils tighter around his chest, suffocating even under the open sky. He came to get fresh air, but it's all being sucked from him.

"You know," Jiho says lightly, resting an elbow against the balcony railing, "there's not much here besides snowy mountains and the charming demonic beasts that like to tunnel beneath the ground." He smirks, turning just slightly toward Felix. "The town seems to be their main attraction. Perhaps we should go and see it together."

Felix keeps his gaze forward, focused on the distant white peaks beyond the gardens. "I've been there before. It's lively."

Jiho clicks his tongue. "So you're saying you wouldn't go again? With me? Or are you hesitating because of your husband?"

Felix doesn't respond right away. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, fingers brushing the stone railing. "Well...Hyunjin does tend to be a bit...picky, with certain things. But he'd probably let me go if you ask him."

Jiho laughs softly under his breath, the sound thin and dry. "You don't seem to know your husband that well, Felix. If I had asked, just the opposite would happen. Why don't you go and ask him yourself? And tell me how he reacts."

Before Felix can say anything, Jiho reaches out and squeezes his shoulder—just a little too firmly. It's meant to seem casual. Encouraging, even.

But it isn't.

It's an order to do what he said.

And so, he follows it.

He goes down the hallway, back through the gilded corridors, down the sweeping staircase that gleams beneath the chandelier's glow. The moment his shoes meet the polished marble of the lower floor, however, he's swarmed. Guests swoop in from every direction, as if they'd been waiting for him. Hands extend, voices rise in a flurry of excitement.

"Your Highness! Congratulations again—your dance earlier was stunning, can you teach me?"

"I hope you'll consider attending our gala next month, the sea views are unlike any other—"

"Will there be an engagement ceremony in the capital? My wife and I would love to host something!"

"Felix, is it true that Jiho is the greatest mage in your kingdom? His powers have to be vicious and incredible. Can you introduce—"

The praise comes like snowfall, soft at first but piling fast, pressing down on his chest. They're too close, too many, and the heat behind his ears rises with every new question. He tries to smile, to respond with the poise he's practiced a hundred times—but his voice catches. He starts to shift back, smile thinning, pulse stuttering beneath the collar of his clothes. And then—

"Excuse me."

Hyunjin.

He slips through the crowd effortlessly, like a tide parting the sea. His hand finds Felix's lower back and the moment he's close, everything else fades. Conversations taper off. The guests, who had been eagerly pressing in, glance up and fall silent, some offering awkward nods as they slowly retreat. The pressure lifts like a weight peeled off his chest. Felix exhales shakily, blinking up just as Hyunjin leans in close, his voice low and soft against his ear. "Angel," The alpha murmurs, gentle. "Are you okay?"

Felix's lips tug into a small, grateful smile. "Yeah," he breathes. "Thank you."

Hyunjin doesn't answer right away. He's scanning his face, searching for any trace of discomfort, any lingering tension in his brow or shoulders. Then, when he's satisfied, he hums and offers a quiet, teasing smile. "Thought I might have to carry you out of there for a second."

Felix huffs a laugh, the sound light and real this time. "You wouldn't dare."

Hyunjin leans in just a little more, pressing a kiss to the edge of Felix's forehead. "Try me."

The tension leaves Felix's body in a slow, invisible wave. He nods, brushing his fingers briefly over Hyunjin's wrist in thanks.

"Let's go back to the table," Hyunjin says, voice still light, still just for him.

Felix follows without hesitation, cheeks warm, feeling—finally—like he can breathe again.

As they settle at their table, Felix blinks in surprise—realizing they're the only ones there. Everyone else is off mingling, dancing, or disappearing into conversations. He briefly catches his mother talking to another family household.

His shoulders drop with relief. Felix gives Hyunjin a grateful look as Hyunjin reaches for a pitcher of chilled water and gently pours some into his glass. "Are you hungry?" He asks, setting it down. "There's food here, but...don't force yourself. You don't have to eat anything if you're not feeling it."

Felix's gaze flicks down to the spread—steamed vegetables, cuts of meat, sweet glazed roots—and zeroes in on a small bowl of roasted tomatoes. His stomach clenches at first, unsure, but the tension fades when he sees how relaxed Hyunjin is. Like there's no pressure. No eyes on him. He grabs a fork and pops a tomato into his mouth, cheeks puffing slightly as he chews. "I...am. Thank you."

"Good," Hyunjin says with a soft chuckle, elbow resting on the table as he watches Felix fondly. "Tomatoes are a safe bet."

Swallowing, Felix hesitates, then shifts in his seat. "Can I ask you something?"

Hyunjin raises a brow. "Of course."

He glances down, poking at another tomato. "Would it be alright if I went into town with Jiho tomorrow night? He mentioned wanting to see Artevmia's fireworks."

There's a pause. A brief one—but Felix feels it. Hyunjin doesn't speak immediately, and Felix risks looking up. Hyunjin's expression is unreadable, his fingers lightly tapping the table. He's not Not angry, not upset...just thinking. "...He asked you that tonight?" He finally says.

"Yeah," Felix answers.

Another pause. Hyunjin leans back in his chair, watching him with that same careful intensity, lips pressed together in a line that's not quite a smile—but not a frown either. "And do you want to go with him?"

Felix's fork stills against the plate. He lowers it slowly, eyes tracing the pattern in the tablecloth rather than meeting Hyunjin's gaze. "No... I don't. At least...not alone," He admits, the words slipping out more timidly than he meant. "I've seen the town enough, after all," He continues quickly, as if to back up his hesitance.

Hyunjin hums, the faintest crease forming between his brows. Not disapproving—just thoughtful. "What if I send Jisung and Changbin with you?"

Felix's eyes flick up at that.

"Not to hover," Hyunjin adds gently. "Just to be there. In case you need them. I trust them to keep you safe."

Felix hesitates...and then nods, a small, almost imperceptible motion. "That would be nice. I'd feel better with them around."

"Then I'll tell them. And if you ever change your mind," Hyunjin says, reaching across the table just enough for his fingers to brush against Felix's, "you don't have to go at all. Alright?"

A breath loosens in Felix's chest. The pressure in his lungs, so sharp just a minute ago, starts to ease. He nods again, this time more assuredly. "Alright."

And that is that.

The banquet winds to a close in a glittering blur of flickering lantern light and soft music, the last of the champagne drained and final toasts made. One by one, guests begin to slip away, their laughter fading into the crisp night as cloaks are drawn over fine clothes and goodbyes are exchanged under breathy clouds in the cold. Felix and Hyunjin's family make their way back to the castle in a collection of soft footsteps and tired smiles, guards and attendants trailing behind at a respectful distance. The mood is lighter now—slightly winded from the events, but not unpleasant.

Camilla skips ahead of the group for a moment, heels clicking quickly against the polished stone. "That was so fun," She chirps, linking arms with Yeji. "I liked dancing the best. And the fairy lights, too. I'm glad we stayed for them."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, dear," Queen Hwang says from just behind them, her fur-lined shawl pulled close. She peers at Yeji, a faint line appearing between her brows. "You look a little tired, though. Are you alright dear?"

Yeji blinks, caught off guard. She smiles quickly—too quickly. "I'm fine. I had a great time, really. Just a little sleepy from the wine and the crowd. I also had to handle something that came up."

The Queen hums but doesn't press further. "Well, get some rest once we're back. We'll have a busy week ahead."

-.-

Felix had just settled into their bedroom, fingers smoothing the sheets on his side of the bed, when the knock came. Three polite raps.

He paused mid-motion, a towel still draped around his shoulders from his bath, droplets of water slipping past his collarbone from his hair. Hyunjin looked up from where he sat reclined against the headboard, book resting open in his lap. His brows furrowed faintly. A voice followed from beyond the door—calm, neutral. A servant.

"Prince Felix? Queen Lee request your presence in the study."

Felix blinked. "Now?"

Hyunjin sat up straighter, closing his book with a soft thud. "At this hour?"

Felix's fingers tightened slightly on the towel. The library. Of all places. At nearly midnight. Still, he masked the tension with a faint smile as he turned toward the wardrobe. "It's probably nothing," He murmured, pulling the towel from his neck and hanging it up. "She might want to talk about the banquet or...tomorrow's council."

Hyunjin watched him dry his hair and style it into something presentable, saying nothing at first. The only sound was the whisper of fabric brushing his skin, the small, unconscious exhale Felix always made when something stressed him out. Finally, he broke the silence, quiet and careful: "You don't have to go if you're tired."

"It's okay," Felix said. He padded over to Hyunjin's side of the bed, fingers brushing lightly across his hand resting on the blanket. "It won't take long. She probably just didn't want to disturb me during the banquet—I've been out and about there after all, so she hasn't had time for us to chat. You can go to bed first, it will probably be quick."

Hyunjin held his gaze for a beat too long. Then he nodded—reluctantly. "Okay,"

Felix found his mother standing near the fireplace, one hand resting delicately along the marble mantel, her posture perfect as always. A glass of red wine sat untouched on the nearby table, and a velvet book lay open beside it, though she hadn't marked a single page. She didn't turn when he entered. Felix closed the door softly behind him. "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes." Her voice was even, composed. "Come in."

He took a few careful steps forward, watching the way the firelight flickered across her silk gown and reflected in her carefully pinned hair. Her back remained to him, gaze fixed on the flames. For a moment, it was quiet again. Too quiet.

"I thought it was time we had a proper talk," She said, finally turning to face him. Her expression was unreadable—neither warm nor cold. Just...observing. As if she were still deciding which approach to take.

Felix straightened unconsciously, the way he always did under her scrutiny. "About the engagement?"

"About many things." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "But let's start there. I've been watching," She said after a pause, as though that admission alone should mean something. "You and the crown prince."

Felix blinked slowly. "And...?"

"You're comfortable with him," She noted. "That much is clear. There's fondness. Affection, even. He seems...attentive."

The way she said it made Felix pause. Like she wasn't criticizing him. Yet. "He is."

His mother hummed low in her throat, tilting her head as she studied him. "That's good. That's important, Felix. Especially in this position. Appearances must always remain intact. Your image is not your own anymore, you understand that, don't you?"

"I've always understood that."

"Yes, well." She sipped her wine now, finally, but only just. "It's one thing to understand, another to act accordingly. Do you think the banquet was a success?"

Felix blinked. "I suppose so. Everyone seemed entertained."

She arched a brow. "Entertained is not the same as impressed."

There was a long, pulsing silence before she went on, eyes narrowing slightly as they pinned him in place. "You embarrassed us, Felix."

He stilled. "What?"

"Whatever you have going on with lady Han—that girl Irene's mother. All that commotion. The way guests were left uncomfortable. That is not the kind of attention you should be bringing to your name. Especially not now."

He laughed. Bitter, low. "Of course. You assume it was me, don't you?"

"I assume based on what I heard. I wasn't the only one. Several families who attended shared... troubling feedback. It's being said you ran off aswell. That your emotions got the better of you."

He scoffed. "And did anyone care to ask why? Or what happened? Did anyone tell you what Irene said to me that day?"

"No," She said, "because no one is interested in petty details. Perception is what matters. And if you appear unstable—"

"I wasn't unstable," He bit out, then quickly lowered his tone. "I excused myself from the problem."

"You also left your husband's side during your own engagement banquet today, Felix."

"I'm sorry that I'm supposed to stay by his side like a trophy," He snapped.

Her eyes flared just slightly, and the glass clicked sharply as she picked it up again. "Tone."

He bit down on his next words, forcing his mouth shut. She sighed, taking another delicate sip before murmuring, "You are no longer just our son. You are a public figure. A royal consort. Everything you do reflects on both families now. Running off like a child because your feelings were hurt—"

"My feelings weren't hurt," He interrupted tightly. "I was overwhelmed. There's a difference."

"Then learn to manage that."

Felix's hands curled at his sides. "Mother, I don't...understand." Felix's voice wavered, quiet but trembling with disbelief. "Didn't you want me to succeed? Can't you be proud of me—for once?"

She didn't answer immediately. Just stared at him, swirling the wine in her glass with a slight twist of her wrist. Then, flatly said, "I would be—if I could trust you to fulfill something properly without complications. But apparently, even that is too much to ask. Is it that hard to be obedient? You've clearly forgotten everything we taught you at home. I'm honestly surprised you made it this far. They've been far too soft on you."

Felix's chest rose and fell, anger crawling up his spine. "So, no congratulations? Not even now?" He asked, incredulous. "I did what you guys wanted. I played my part, I smiled, I sat through a room full of people I barely know just to make you happy. And I passed our engagement. Yet, you still find ways to shame me—for things you don't even understand."

"I know enough," She snapped. "You've always been the root of trouble, Felix. No matter how hard we tried to correct you, to shape you, to fix you. This—" She gestured vaguely in his direction, eyes cold. "—this is the result of every leniency we allowed."

"Mother—" He began, eyes wide with hurt, but the word barely escaped before she cut him off.

"Don't talk back to me, yongbok."

But Felix didn't retreat this time. He stood taller, fists clenched at his sides. "I'm not a kid anymore. And I haven't been for years. I'm an adult. I'm tired of you pretending I don't have a voice—"

The strike came fast.

A sharp, open-palmed slap cracked against his cheek, echoing through the library like a gunshot in the silence. Felix stumbled a step back from the force of it, jaw slack as the sting bloomed hot across his skin. His cheek throbbed—red, burning, and radiating with humiliation. His breath hitched in his throat as he stared at her, eyes stinging—not just from the pain, but from the weight of it all.

Her hand slowly lowered, and her tone turned icy, like the strike hadn't happened at all. "You should be grateful that anyone still has the patience to deal with you."

Felix didn't move. Couldn't speak. Not yet. His mind reeled, blood roaring in his ears. And the worst part was—he wasn't even surprised.

The corridor was quiet. Too quiet.

Felix walked with measured steps, but his fingers twitched where they curled into his sleeves, and the burn across his cheek pulsed with every heartbeat. The distant clack of his shoes on marble echoed through the empty hall, each step punctuating the tension wound tight inside his chest. It wasn't sadness that pricked at his eyes. Not exactly. It was anger. Pure, silent irritation—the kind that made his teeth clench and his throat ache. His vision blurred slightly, but he blinked hard, refusing to let the tears fall in full. Still, a few slipped out anyway, hot and unwanted. He wiped at them quickly, furious with himself for letting them escape. This wasn't weakness. This wasn't grief. It was the simmering, bitter frustration of being spoken to like a child, slapped like he was nothing, and still expected to bow his head and thank her for the privilege.

By the time he reached their chamber, the candles had burned low, and the only light left in the room glowed faintly from the closed curtain cracks. If he squinted, he could make out the curve of Hyunjin's sleeping form beneath the covers. Felix exhaled quietly, fingers grazing the door as he closed it behind him without a sound. He stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle. His cheek throbbed—raw, swollen, and sore—and he had never been more grateful for the pitch-dark corners of their chamber. At least here, the pain could hide with him.

He crossed the room in a few quiet steps and slipped beneath the covers. The warmth that greeted him was immediate, wrapping around his limbs like a balm, but it wasn't the blankets he sought. It was Hyunjin. Without hesitation, Felix curled close behind him, pressing his forehead softly between Hyunjin's shoulder blades. He burrowed in deeper, trying to hide, to breathe him in, to remind his body that it was over—that he was safe now. His cheek stung where it met Hyunjin's back, but he didn't pull away. He just pressed closer. "You're still awake, aren't you?" He murmured, voice small against fabric.

There was a soft inhale, then a sleepy, familiar voice. "Yeah. I can't really sleep when my omega isn't near me." Hyunjin replied.

Felix only laughed. He didn't want to reply. Didn't want to explain if another question was asked. Not tonight. So he simply closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, pressing closer to the one person who made him feel safe, even now—especially now—when everything else hurt. Hyunjin didn't mind, thankfully, and reached back lazily, hand searching for his, and when their fingers found each other, he laced them together without another word. It's only a week, Felix tells himself. Seven days.

And things will be peaceful again. 

Chapter Text

Tw: mentions of abuse/assault

Felix woke to cold sheets.

His eyes fluttered open to the still-dark room, the crackle of the fire gone, embers long cooled in the hearth. He blinked up at the canopy overhead, heart already pounding for reasons he couldn’t name. Something felt…off. Quiet in the wrong kind of way. Not peaceful— unnerving . Too still. Too empty .

He rolled onto his side, and Hyunjin wasn’t there.

He sat up slowly, a chill sweeping over his arms as the blanket slipped from his shoulders. He reached out across the bed, hand brushing over the other side of the mattress. It was cold. Untouched. No warmth lingering beneath the silk sheets. Maybe he got up early in the night to do something, Felix told himself. Maybe he’s in the washroom. Or—

A sharp crack echoed faintly in the distance. Wood? No. Stone. Maybe a door closing outside the hall. Felix slipped out of bed, fingers curling around the edge of the frame for balance. His body felt heavier than usual—thick-limbed, like he hadn’t fully woken. His robe was still slung over the nearby chair, boots lined up near the door, the faint scent of Hyunjin’s cologne clinging to the air.

He opened the door and the corridor was dark—pitch black, except for the faint white of the moon seeping in through the windows in the hall. The torches along the walls were unlit. The stone beneath his feet was cold. And…where were the guards? The staff?

“Hyunjin?” He called, voice small in the vacuum of silence.

No response.

The sound didn’t even echo. It just…died.

He walked slowly, arms wrapping around himself, padding down the corridor in bare feet. The air was colder than it should’ve been. The castle had felt alive the night before—brimming with voices, laughter, the warmth of firelight, and activity. But now, it was like the place had been hollowed out. A shell of itself.

He passed a window. Outside, the garden looked strange. Still covered in snow. The fountain—frozen solid, mid-trickle. A raven sat perched on its edge, unmoving. Staring.

The hair on his arms rose.

He turned down another hallway, calling out again—louder this time. “Hyunjin!” The panic rising in his chest was irrational—but not unfounded. He started walking faster, bare feet slapping against the stone. Another corridor. Another empty chamber. No light, no warmth, no guards at their required posts. And then—

A figure.

Just ahead. Standing in the shadows near the staircase.

Felix’s heart leapt. He ran forward— “Hyun—?”

It wasn’t Hyunjin.

It was Jiho.

Leaning casually against the wall, half-shrouded in shadow, one hand resting along the carved railing as if he’d been waiting there all night. Felix faltered mid-step. Froze in place like a deer in traffic. His throat closed up before he could catch the words, the chill on his skin suddenly sharper than the air itself. “…Why—Why are you still awake?”

Jiho tilted his head slightly, like the question amused him. “Because I can be,” he answered, calm and effortless. “I simply couldn’t sleep.”

Felix took a step back. “You’re not supposed to be on this side of the castle.”

“No,” Jiho agreed. “But that doesn’t matter. What are you doing wandering in the dark like this? What would people think?”

Felix’s heart beat faster. Something about Jiho’s voice made the hair on his arms rise. “I was just…looking for Hyunjin.”

“You mean the one who leaves your bed in the middle of the night?” Jiho pushed off the wall, walking toward him with slow steps. “Funny. Doesn’t that seem like a bad sign to you?”

“He didn’t leave—he’s probably—”

“Probably what?” Jiho’s tone sharpened just slightly. “Is Busy? Downstairs? Or finally realizing how exhausting it must be, playing pretend with someone like you.”

Felix clenched his jaw. “You don’t know anything about us.”

Jiho stopped a few paces away, smile dimming. “I know you better than he ever will. “Really? Because he seems more willing than not to let you go with any man who asks. Doesn’t even flinch. You’d think a husband might show some hesitation—unless, of course, he doesn’t care what happens to you.”

Felix’s stomach turned. “He does care for me.”

Jiho scoffed. “No, Felix. He’s indifferent . And why wouldn’t he be? You make it so easy. The pretty, lost thing wandering from man to man, looking for someone to tell you what to do. Someone to control you.” He stepped closer, boots silent against the stone floor. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were asking for it.”

“You know that’s not—” Felix’s voice broke. He clenched his hands to stop their trembling. 

“Isn’t it?” Jiho’s eyes glinted in the dark. “You keep pretending you’re something else. Married, stable , above it all.” Jiho clicked his tongue. “But the truth is, you don’t even know who you are without someone telling you. You never did. And now you’ve got knights circling you like flies, Hyunjin pretending not to notice, and me…” He came closer and leaned in. “Me, watching all of it, wondering how long it’ll take for you to fall back into the hands you really belong to.”

Felix’s skin crawled. Belonged ? That’s the difference. Hyunjin would never speak of him that way. Hyunjin—no matter how upset, how confused—had never once treated him like property. Had never looked at him like something to win or tame or use. Even when he was at his worst, spiraling in shame, consumed by want or fear, Hyunjin stayed. He gave him choices. Gave him space. Gave him time.

Jiho only took .

Felix shook his head. “You don’t know anything about him.”

“I know enough . Enough to see how he lets you run wild, how he lets them hover around you like you’re fragile.” His gaze burned now. “He doesn’t discipline you. Doesn’t remind you of your place.”

Felix recoiled. “I don’t have a place . Not under you or our family. Why can’t you fucking understand that?”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Jiho’s hand shot out and his grip turned iron. “ You think this version of you is real? The little husband? The omega who gets paraded around in gold and velvet like he’s earned anything? It’s a lie, Felix.”

Felix didn’t realize how close Joho got and how much he was backing up, until his back hit against a wooden door. Jiho reached an arm around him and twisted the handle, forcing him through before he could dig his heels in. The door clicked shut behind them, heavy and absolute. Darkness pressed in again. Felix stumbled back, chest heaving.

This wasn’t real. 

This couldn’t be real.

And yet the sting in his arm, the heat of Jiho’s breath, the cold sweat down his spine told him otherwise. Felix barely had time to flinch before pain exploded across his side—Jiho had shoved him down like a discarded toy. No warning. No hesitation. He hit the floor with a muffled groan, breath knocked from his lungs as his hip slammed into polished stone flooring.

 “You’ve always needed to be put in your place,” Jiho said, voice calm in the way that terrified Felix more than shouting ever could. “I let you play pretend for too long. You got used to freedom. That’s my mistake, I should've come here quicker.”

Felix curled in on himself without thinking, arm tucked across his stomach, knees drawn up. “Please,” He whispered, breath shaky. “Please don’t…” For a split second, it was the Sunshine Kingdom all over again. The chill of marble beneath him. A voice above him, cold and pleased. Hands that didn’t ask. The sick, helpless twist in his gut as he realized no one was going to stop it.

Jiho crouched beside him. Not kneeling—never kneeling. Always above. “Don’t what?” Jiho murmured, fingers threading slowly through Felix’s hair. It could’ve been mistaken for something tender—until he gripped. Felix gasped, his scalp screaming as Jiho yanked his head up, forcing their eyes to lock. Jiho’s face was too close, too calm, too familiar. A mask of patience stretched over something cruel. “Don’t remind you who you are?” he asked softly. “Don’t touch what’s mine ? Don’t make you remember that you’re still under my care ?”

Felix’s chest caved in with panic. His heartbeat thudded like footsteps echoing in an empty corridor—loud, frantic, alone . “No, that's not it,” He breathed out in a rush. “I’m sorry…I-I’m sorry. I remember, and I’ll listen . I’ll listen . I’ll be good, okay? I promise I—”

“You’ll listen, really?” The words dropped like oil into fire. Jiho’s voice had changed—lower now, slick with something dangerous. Felix nodded too fast, too hard, tears spilling down his face as if to prove it. His whole body shook, each breath more shallow than the last. He was slipping— slipping back into something he thought he’d buried . “I will,” He whispered, voice cracking. “I swear—I’m sorry, I just…I’ve been distracted, but I never meant to—meant to disrespect you. You know I wouldn’t. I—I cherish you.”

And the moment he said it, bile rose up his throat. The words were disgusting on his tongue—rotten, like they’d been pulled from a past version of himself that should’ve stayed dead.  A beat of silence follows after—and it’s long. Too long. It stretches thin like a jumpscare waiting just around the corner. Then—A low, breathy laugh. Not amused. Not warm, rather cruel. A hiss more than a human sound. “You think that’ll work on me? You think I don’t see through you by now? You’ve always been such a terrible liar.”

Felix’s breath catches.

“You should see your face,” Jiho continues, circling slowly now, dragging a finger across Felix’s jaw like tracing glass about to shatter. “The way your eyes water. The way your lips tremble. You wince like I’m some kind of monster you can’t even look at. ”

“ Because you are,” Felix whispers, voice strangled. “I’m tired of pretending you aren’t. What do you want me to say? Oh, you're the best cousin—the cousin who hurts me over little things yet demands I still appreciate him. You don’t even treat me like family , you treat me like a toy that you love to break and rebuild.” Felix’s finishes, and he knows—he knows —he’s gone too far. But it’s already out there, hanging in the air like the final note of a funeral song.

“Is that so?” Jiho murmurs, his grip tightening in Felix’s hair. His nails scrape against the scalp, a warning and a punishment all at once. Felix gasps, pain lancing down the back of his neck. “ You’re tired of pretending ? That’s rich, coming from the boy who’s been pretending his whole damn life. I didn’t hurt you for little things, Felix,” Jiho murmurs now, tone syrupy and poisonous, like a parent scolding a child who should’ve known better. “I hurt you when you deserved it. When you forgot your place. When you spat in the face of everything I did to protect you. You don’t get to talk about pain, not when you invited it. Don’t you remember? You came to me. You said I made you feel safe.”

Felix shakes his head. “I was a kid, and now I realize I was wrong . You’re a freak who’s obsessed with me. You say you care. But it’s not protection. It's an obsession . You like me—and not the way family should. You’ve always been fucking weird, no? Touchy. Controlling. And you try to twist it like it’s some kind of mutual feeling . We’re family , Jiho, and nothing more .” Felix spits, voice cracking with something rawer now—revulsion. 

And in return, Jiho suddenly moves. His hand raised—not in a slap this time, but grabbing Felix by the throat, pushing him roughly back against the floor. It's not tight enough to choke, but just enough to scare. Enough to dominate. “Shut your mouth ,” He snarls. “Maybe I need to remind you who made you useful. Who made you wanted.”

Felix clenches his jaw, but it quivers anyway. “You didn’t make me anything,” he says, defiance flickering like a candle’s dying flame. 

“Oh, sunshine ,” He says with mock pity, tilting Felix’s head to the side as if examining a bruise. “Is that what you’ve convinced yourself of? That I’m the villain and you’re the brave little survivor? You wouldn’t have lasted a week back home if not for me. You would’ve been shattered under your mother’s thumb. You would’ve faded into nothing if I hadn’t taken an interest in you and fixed your behavior. Don’t rewrite the past just because it’s convenient now.”

“I never asked for your interest , and I never wanted it.”

“But you needed it.” Jiho’s voice lowers to a whisper, all heat and venom, curling into Felix’s ear. “And you still do. Why else do you keep coming back? Why else do you still look at me like I matter?”

“You’re delusional . I don’t—”

“You do ,” Jiho cuts in. “Because you know I’m the only one who sees what’s underneath all that polished, obedient pretty-boy skin. You’re still the same little thing who begged me not to leave you. And that part of you—” He lets go of his neck to brush the side of Felix’s face, gentler now but no less terrifying. “— will always belong to me. So I’ll remind you. As many times as it takes. Every time you let someone else near you, I’ll carve them out of your memory. Take off your clothes.”

Felix freezes. “…W-What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself. I know you’ve been sullied by an alpha and you're dirty.” The words slam into him harder than any touch. Jiho’s gaze drops like he can see straight through Felix’s skin—past the fabric of his sleep shirt, down to the raw, invisible claim pressed into his gland. “Right there. That’s where he claimed you, isn’t it?” 

“No.” Felix’s heart kicks against his ribs. “No, I don’t like this please—” He shakes his head, panic rising as quick as bile in his throat.

Jiho’s hand reaches for him.

Felix flinches back, but there’s nowhere to go.

“Don’t—” He gasps.

Fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. The air turns razor-sharp, closing in too tight.

“I said stop—!”

Felix jerks upright in bed, gasping like he’s been underwater too long. His chest heaves. His throat burns. For a second, the darkness of the room feels like it might collapse in on him again, but no—this is real. A sob tears out of him before he can stop it. He clutches at his arms with trembling hands, trying to steady his breath, but every inhale feels too short, every exhale a tremor. The pressure doesn’t leave—it sits on his lungs like a weight. Panic crashes through him in violent, invisible waves.

Hyunjin stirs beside him.

“Felix?”

Felix doesn’t answer. His mouth opens, but only broken, shaking gasps come out. “Hey—hey, look at me—” Hyunjin shifts, blinking through the darkness, voice low and urgent now, hand reaching to touch Felix’s shoulder. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re here, it’s okay. Just breathe with me— Felix ,” Hyunjin says again, more alert now. He quickly sits up and turns on the nightstand light, his hand cupping the side of Felix’s face—only to feel him flinch away, trembling, like he been wounded.

And that's when he notices two things.

One , the swollenness of his cheek. And two, the way Felix’s hands are rested tightly against his arms, nails digging into his skin so hard they’ve broken the skin. “Hey—stop, stop—” Hyunjin gently grabs his wrists, prying his fingers loose one at a time. “You’re hurting yourself. You’re okay. Look at me.”

But Felix doesn’t seem to hear him. His eyes are wide and unfocused, tears streaming down his cheeks. He’s somewhere else entirely. “I don’t want him to touch me again…” Felix breathes out in a whisper. “Please. I said no. I said no, didn’t I? I said it over and over and —”

Hyunjin stills. Touch? Was he…?

“Felix,” He says more softly, brushing sweat-damp hair from his forehead. “It was only a dream. You're not there. You’re with me. They’re not here.”

“I tried—I thought I did everything right,” Felix continues, voice cracking, raw from suppressed sobs. “I listened, I apologized, I said I’d be good—why wasn’t that enough? Why—why did he still—?” He breaks off, curling inward like he’s trying to make himself smaller. His nails twitch against Hyunjin’s grip, desperate to dig in again.

“Shh— don’t do that. Breathe with me.” Hyunjin pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “You’re safe now. Nobody’s going to touch you. I won’t let them. You’re not there anymore. They can’t hurt you.”

Felix lets out a broken noise, like something caving inside him. “He said—I’m—”

“ Stop .” Hyunjin’s voice tightens with emotion now, anger and grief tangled in it. “You are not anything they said you were. None of it was your fault.”

Felix’s breathing begins to slow in the safety of Hyunjin’s arms, though he still shakes violently. Hyunjin rocks him gently, whispering assurances against his temple. “You did nothing wrong. You’re here with me. I’ve got you, Angel.” 

And for the first time in minutes, Felix begins to believe that; begins to sort out the memories and dreams flashing before his eyes and messing up his reality. His breath hitches, but it’s not the same erratic panting from before. It’s slower now. Shaky, shallow— but he's trying. The words Jiho spat still ring in his ears, echoing like they were carved into his skull. But they don’t feel as real with Hyunjin whispering over them, grounding him in this moment. The weight of strong arms around him. The familiar scent of citrus. The warmth of someone who never, ever made him feel small. 

Hyunjin’s arms remain firm around him, not squeezing too tight, not letting go. Just there—solid, human, safe. The scent of pine and sandalwood clings to the sheets, to Felix’s hair, to everything good and clean and now. The warmth of Hyunjin’s chest under his palm. The sound of his heart—a quiet rhythm that doesn’t rush him.

Nonetheless, the panic isn’t entirely gone.

“ Fuck ,” Felix mutters, voice cracking again.

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, just enough to glance down at him, but Felix is already tensing. “I— shit , I didn’t mean to say all of that, I’m sorry,” He blurts out quickly, hands twitching like he might shove himself away, and only stopping because Hyunjin doesn’t let him. “I didn’t mean to wake you up. And I—I didn’t even tell you about earlier. About my cheek, I—God, I know I—”

“ Felix .” It’s not sharp, not commanding—just there. A quiet call that cuts through the spiral.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Hyunjin murmurs. His thumb brushes over Felix’s jaw, and now that they’re closer, he finally can take in all of the swelling—soft, reddish, and faint, but unmistakable. He doesn’t comment on it yet, not yet. “I don’t care if it’s three in the morning or three in the afternoon—if something’s wrong and you need help, I’ll be up immediately.”

Felix bites his lip. He doesn’t want to cry again, but his eyes sting. “I should’ve told you about my mother,” He says quietly. “I should’ve told you when I came back, but it was stupid. I thought—if I just ignored it, it’d be fine by morning and you wouldn’t have to worry.” 

“You don’t have to tell me everything the moment it happens,” Hyunjin says. “You’re not on trial, Felix, and I would never scold you. But, who were you dreaming about? What scared you?”

“ …Jiho .”

Hyunjin stills—his jaw tensing, just for a second. But he doesn’t interrupt. Felix exhales shakily. “I thought I woke up and you were gone. It was dark, and I went looking…but I found him instead. Not in some strange place—just here. In our area of castle. He was normal for a second, then twisted. He said horrible things, and I—I believed them. I always do, when I dream about him. He makes me feel like I never got away.”

Felix pauses, blinking rapidly.

“I said things. I said I’d be good again. That I’d listen. I told him I cherished him, and I meant none of it, but it just came out. Like my brain short-circuited. Like I became who I used to be again without realizing it. I felt disgusting. And he…” His voice falters, and he finally meets Hyunjin’s eyes.“He knew about the mark. He said I was sullied. That I was dirty. He tried to—”

Felix stops short, but Hyunjin already knows.

That’s enough.

Hyunjin shifts his hand, brushing Felix’s cheek as gently as possible—not the swollen side, but the other. “…Felix,” He says softly, “As much as I don’t want to bombard you with questions, I can’t brush this under the rug. You said you didn’t want him to touch you again , remember, can you explain to me?”  

Felix’s breath catches at the question—not because it’s unexpected, but because it lands with more weight than he’s ready for. His gaze drifts down to his hands, to the little tremors still visible in his fingers. Then, slowly, his eyes flicker toward the window.

Then the door.

Then the shadows under it.

Hyunjin doesn’t miss it. The way Felix’s body stiffens slightly, how his breathing shallows as if waiting—listening—for footsteps that aren’t there. As if some part of him still fears that saying the truth out loud will summon a punishment. And that’s when Hyunjin realizes he’s checking to see if anyone is watching. Not out of shame. Out of learned habit. Something old and conditioned into him—don’t speak unless it’s safe. Don’t be honest if there’s a chance someone’s listening. Hyunjin’s heart aches. But he doesn’t rush him, doesn’t say a word yet—just waits, patiently, and prays he can hold his rage back by the end of this.

“Jiho used to…hurt me. Even before it got as bad as it did. It wasn’t just the things he’d say—he’d grab me. Pull at me. Slap me if I didn’t listen fast enough. And sometimes he’d—he’d make me take off my…clothes. He’d say it was to make sure I wasn’t hiding anything. That I was always up to something, or lying, or disobedient—and if I had nothing to hide, I shouldn’t be scared.” He blinks, hard. “But I was scared. Every time. And he’d touch my neck or my waist or trace bruises and ask where I got them for fun—when it was him all along.”

Hyunjin’s jaw clenches, visibly. His silence after that is chilling—not because he doesn’t believe Felix, but because he does. Because every word is a puzzle piece he’s been missing for far too long, and now the full picture is forming—and it’s all the worse when Jiho had tried to fabricate the wrong suspect and feign innocence. “ You never deserved that.”

“I know that now,” Felix says. “But back then, I thought maybe I did. I just wanted to keep the peace. I thought if I obeyed, he’d…stop.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t speak—doesn’t interrupt—but his hand tightens where it rests around Felix’s waist, anchoring him, holding him close but without pressure. Felix isn’t being cornered. He knows that. But the memories feel like they’re bleeding out anyway, impossible to keep in once the door’s cracked open.

“There were others,” Felix adds quietly. “People who turned a blind eye. Who let him keep doing it, because even though I told them, they didn’t believe me. He was the one who—” He swallows hard. “Who made sure I never forgot I’m to be obedient to him.” A pause. Then, like the words are forcing themselves past the lump in his throat, he says, “He’d call them reminders . Every bruise, every cut. And when they faded, he’d get…upset. Like I was trying to erase him. Like my body healing meant I was defying him.”

Hyunjin’s silence is thunderous. He doesn’t move, but Felix can feel it—the tension in his frame, the slow, controlled breathing like he’s barely containing the urge to storm out and destroy something.

“I know I shouldn't be hiding things like this,” Felix whispers, eyes downcast. “I…only, I’m not allowed to talk about it. Not really. He always made sure of that.” His fingers twitch, curling into the blanket like he’s trying to ground himself, but the weight in his chest keeps rising. “And I shouldn’t have now,” He continues, voice barely audible. “Because if he finds out, if someone tells him I said anything—he’ll do something. Not to me. I mean, yeah, probably me too, but mostly…” His throat tightens. “He’ll go after you. Or the others. Or— Anaiyia . He always made threats like that when I was younger, and they weren’t empty. That if I wasn’t quiet, if I ever embarrassed him or told anyone, he’d hurt someone close to me instead. He’s clever. People like him always are. He doesn’t hit when others can see. He doesn’t yell where someone might listen. But when he gets mad…” Felix shudders, his voice thinning to a rasp, “He knows exactly where to press. And what to take away. So please, don’t let him know you know this.” 

There’s a pause, just long enough for Felix to feel exposed again. Like his truth is out in the open, raw and vulnerable, and now a part of him is waiting for it to be dismissed or met with pity—anything but understanding, like it always had. 

Hyunjin doesn’t speak right away. He doesn’t rush in with promises or outrage, doesn’t try to piece together solutions like others might. Instead, he just looks at Felix—really looks at him. At the wetness in his eyes, the way his fingers still grip the edge of the blanket like he might fall through the floor if he lets go. At the shuddering in his chest, the quiet dread in his voice.

And then—

“Okay,” Hyunjin says softly. 

And that’s all.

“I mean it ,” Hyunjin adds, reaching forward to gently cover Felix’s hand with his own. “He won’t know I know, and still, I'll never reveal any information you give me to untrustworthy people. If I have to feign naivety around him, I will. And you don’t have to justify what you did to survive. What he did wasn’t discipline. It was abuse , and he enjoyed it.” He shifts forward and brings one hand gently to the side of Felix’s face, barely brushing skin, careful not to go near the bruising. “He convinced you that control was care, but I’m going to undo that. Not just by protecting you—but by making sure he never touches you again.”

Felix’s breath hitches. “Hyunjin—”

“I’m not going to be reckless ,” Hyunjin says, cutting through the panic in Felix’s voice with a calm that feels both reassuring and terrifying. “I won’t storm into his room and behead him in his sleep, but I will dismantle him, given the right chance. Carefully. Completely. He wants you to believe he’s untouchable? I’ll show him exactly how wrong he is.”

Felix looks down, hands tightening in his lap. “If you do something and the mages tower traces it back to you—”

“They won’t . He’s careful. But I’m smarter.”

A long silence.

Then, softer, nearly broken: “It will be difficult still, you know. I’ve…wanted to kill him. For a long time. I used to dream about it. I hated myself for it, but—I wanted him gone . I wanted him to disappear.”

“You don’t need to hate yourself for that, and you’re not wrong for feeling it. You’re also not alone in carrying it anymore, because I want the same.” 

And Felix, despite every fear, despite every warning screaming at the back of his head, leans into him. His head rests against Hyunjin’s shoulder, and for a moment, he just breathes. The tremors in his hands begin to still. His shoulders, once rigid with hours of tension, finally ease—slowly, like the fear is loosening its grip one finger at a time. And maybe it isn’t over. Maybe the danger hasn’t passed. But for now, he feels safe. Safe enough to stop shaking. Safe enough to believe him. Safe enough to let his guard down.

But while Felix sinks into that fragile pocket of calm—eyes heavy with exhaustion, voice gone hoarse from crying—Hyunjin’s stare remains fixed ahead, burning cold and unwavering.

Because now he knows the truth.

And now that he knows, he can’t unknow.

Every bruise Felix once dismissed. Every nervous smile. Every “it’s fine” that had never quite sounded convincing. The flinches. The silences. The way Felix always redirected when things got too close. Hyunjin sees it all now—sees what he missed. The pattern, the warning signs, the truth hiding in plain sight. A thread of quiet suffering that Jiho had wrapped around Felix’s life like a noose.

And Jiho had done it all in the dark.

But not anymore.

And one thing is for sure, Felix won’t be alone with him tomorrow night. 

Hyunjin said yes —because he had to.

Not because he “trusted” Jiho. Not because he didn’t see how tense Felix was when he asked for them to go into town. But because he knew Jiho was watching from the balcony. Waiting. That entire exchange was more than just a question—it was a test. A performance. If Hyunjin had said no outright, Jiho would’ve known something was off. He would’ve known Felix had started talking. And the consequences of that…Hyunjin didn’t need them spelled out to guess how Jiho may take it. While Jiho thinks he’s getting what he wants, Hyunjin is undermining everything. He’s not just letting this play out; he’s not feeding Felix to the sharks . He’s making sure this is the last time Felix ever has to play along for the sake of his own safety .

-.-.—-

The following night, Felix stands in front of the mirror, half-dressed, half-stalling—heart pacing faster than it should. Felix’s fingers fidget at the edge of his coat as he fastens the final clasp. His reflection stares back: skin too pale, mouth too tense, shoulders tight. Behind him, Hyunjin is digging through his wardrobe for a long-sleeved shirt and a leather jacket. He’s humming to himself, not saying anything. Not pointing out the fact he’s stalling. But Felix feels the weight of his gaze occasionally.

Eventually, a knock comes.

“Hey, Felix!” It’s Jisung’s voice, cheerful and too casual for the tension burning in his gut. “Are you ready yet?”

He blinks. “Ready for…what?”

A chorus of footsteps, muffled laughter, then another knock—this time Changbin’s voice cuts in, amused. “For town? You didn’t forget, right?”

Felix furrows his brows and crosses the room, cracking open the door. Jisung, Changbin, and Seungmin all stand there in outerwear, like this is a  group outing. “Oh, I am, but I thought I was going myself—”

“With your cousin? Alone ?” Jisung finishes for him, grinning. “Yeah, no . We’re coming too.”

Felix’s eyes flick toward the hallway in shock. “…All of you?”

“Yep,” Seungmin says flatly. “Minho said it’s fine. And Hyunjin said he wanted fresh air.”

Felix’s stomach unknots slightly. “Oh. Okay. Um…I’ll be ready in a few minutes.”

“Alright,” Changbin says, already walking away. “We’ll wait here then.”

At that, Felix closes the door with a soft click and turns slowly, disoriented. The pounding in his chest has less to do with fear now; and more to do with something like excited relief. He turns around to look back at Hyunjin, only now he sees that he’s  pulling a coat over his arms and gathering gloves for the cold outside. Felix walks over and stands before him, observing at him curiously. He doesn’t speak right away. He just looks at him, mouth parting slowly. “What…is this?”

Hyunjin pauses mid-movement, the sleeve of his coat half-pulled up his arm. He turns to face him fully, eyes patient, unreadable.

“You said it was fine,” Felix says. “That I could go to town with Jiho. I thought you—” He swallows. “You agreed .”

“I did.” Hyunjin nods slowly. “But I never would’ve let you go alone, as much as it seemed like that.”

Felix’s brows pull together. “Then why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

Hyunjin watches him for a moment, quiet. When he speaks, his voice is softer than before. “Because I knew he made you ask. The way you looked at me that night,” Hyunjin continues gently. “You were nervous and careful with your words. That wasn’t you wanting to go—and you even said you didn’t, yet you still asked to not to upset him. Am I right?”

Felix lowers his gaze. Shame creeps in like a shadow curling around his ribs. “I didn’t want to make things worse,” 

“I know,” Hyunjin says. “That’s why I said yes. So he wouldn’t see it as a problem.”

Felix looks up again, expression fragile. “Is that why you let me dance with him?”

Hyunjin hesitates. His jaw works for a second like he’s trying to find the right words—ones that won’t scare him. “Yes. Though I also agreed because I was there, able to watch the whole time. Even when I was caught up by guests and couldn’t be by your side during the party, the others were instructed to be near you at all times whenever you went with him. Although you didn’t notice them, they were around.” The last part hangs between them, gentle but weighted.

Felix’s lips part, but no words come. Just the sound of his breath. He looks at Hyunjin, really looks at him, and something in his chest gives—like ice cracking beneath early spring. He whispers, “You could’ve told me.”

“I should’ve,” Hyunjin agrees. “I really should have. I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought if I stayed quiet, it would make your cousin lower his guard and not think anything about it. But that was selfish. I was thinking about the plan, not how it would make you feel.” His voice softens even more. “I would never let you go anywhere near him without protection, I swear. There’s always a knight on standby wherever you go, especially if it’s away from me. And I know I failed before,” He continues, quieter now. “When Irene hurt you and said those things to you. When I should’ve been there and noticed what was happening. I regret it every day, and I can’t go back and change it, but I won’t let it happen again. Not with her. Not with Jiho. Not with anyone who has ever harmed you.”

For a moment, neither of them speaks. Then Felix lowers his head, just slightly. A small, unsteady nod. His voice comes out hoarse, but real. “…Thank you. And I’m sorry too.”

Hyunjin’s brow furrows gently. “Felix…”

“No, really,” Felix cuts in quietly, voice thin. “I’m sorry for how I am sometimes. For freezing up around them. For letting myself get pushed around and not saying anything until it’s too late. I should’ve told you what happened with my mother. You didn’t even know I fought with her that day, and then everything just…spiraled. I kept pretending it wasn’t that bad, like I could handle it, but I couldn’t. I waited too long to tell you about any of my issues. About Jiho, and what things have been like. I was scared you’d think I was weak, or even lying. I was also…embarrassed, because of the rumors.”

“You’re not weak,” Hyunjin says softly. “And you’re not broken.” He wraps his arms around him—gentle, firm, and without demand. “You don’t owe me perfection, Felix. I never wanted that. I just wanted you to feel safe enough to let me in, and I’ll reassure you as many times as you need.”

“Okay, thank you.” Felix buries his face into Hyunjin’s chest, fingers clutching the back of his coat like he’s afraid he’ll disappear. Felix stays pressed against Hyunjin’s chest, his fingers still curled into the fabric of his coat. His breathing has slowed, but his heart feels too big for his ribs, raw and open and trembling. Hyunjin holds him like he knows. Like he feels it too. After a long, quiet moment, Hyunjin tilts his head just enough to speak near Felix’s temple. His voice is low, roughened by emotion, but sure.

“I love you .”

It’s not dramatic. It’s not embellished. It’s just the truth. Spoken gently, like something sacred.

Felix swallows hard, his voice fragile but ever so certain, just like the first time he’d said it. “I love you too.”

Hyunjin breathes in, like hearing that soothes something deep in his chest. Then he laughs—a breathy, enamoring sound—eyes crinkling, the kind of smile that looks like it doesn’t know where to go. And before Felix can say anything else, Hyunjin leans in and presses a kiss to his forehead. Warm. Gentle. Almost giddy . “Say it again, won’t you? He requests, his voice lighter now, barely hiding the excitement curling through it. “ Please .”

Felix huffs, cheeks warm. “I love you.”

Hyunjin closes his eyes, a smile blooming like he can’t contain it. “God, I love you so much.”

Eventually, they pull apart. Slowly. Like neither of them wants to move—but they have to. Felix smooths down the front of his coat, still a little dazed, but steadier than he’s felt in days. Hyunjin stays close, brushing his knuckles lightly against Felix’s hand before letting it fall. When they open the door, the others are still waiting. Jisung’s the first to look up—and he sees it immediately. He doesn’t say anything at first. Just takes one step forward. Then another. And then he’s right in front of Felix, reaching out without thinking, his palm cupping Felix’s cheek so gently it barely registers as touch.

His thumb ghosts just beneath the eye, where the faintest hint of swelling remains—subtle, almost gone, but still there if you’re looking close enough. “Who did this ?” His voice is quiet, not teasing now. Not even angry. Just deeply, deeply worried.

Felix tenses. “It’s nothing,” Felix says, because it’s easier than explaining. “It’s already fading and it doesn’t hurt.”

“That’s not an answer,” Jisung murmurs, and Felix knows that too. For a moment, he wants to brush it off again. To retreat instinctively into an easy lie. But something about the way everyone is looking at him concerned makes him falter, and further realize that only hiding things—even brushing off small things—makes everyone worry all the more. 

Eventually, he sighs. “My…mother. We had a small argument and I said something that made her hit me.” 

At that, Jeongin exhales sharply through his nose, muttering something like “that bitch…” under his breath. Seungmin looks quietly furious in the way only he can—arms crossed, eyes narrowed, silent but seething. And Jisung…Jisung looks like he’s trying not to fall apart. “You should’ve come to one of us the moment it happened, were always up patrolling at night.” 

“I know,” He says. “And I will starting from now on,” 

“Alright, you better.” Jisung’s shoulders ease. Seungmin gives the faintest nod, like he heard more in those words than anyone else could’ve. And Hyunjin—Hyunjin’s hand lingers at the small of his back, just long enough to remind Felix he meant everything he said earlier. That he’s still here. Felix takes a breath. Then another. It’s still hard to speak up on things he used to brushing off. But it’s not unbearable . And for the first time in a long while, he feels like the truth didn’t ruin anything. It made room. 

The west entrance of the castle is quiet at this hour, tucked away behind thick snowy hedges and winding stone paths, lit only by a few flickering lanterns. Three carriages wait outside an open gate, dark wood and silver trim gleaming under the moonlight. Two coachmen linger nearby, getting the horses situated before they head off. Leaning against the side of one, cloaked in deep green and shadow, Jiho straightens at the sound of approaching footsteps. His posture is relaxed, but the flicker of his eyes tells the truth before his mouth ever does.

He was expecting one.

Not six .

His gaze sweeps the group—Changbin, Seungmin, Jisung, Jeongin, Hyunjin, Felix—and his lips part just slightly, like he’s caught between scoffing and recalculating.

But then his eyes land on Hyunjin.

Right beside Felix. Close. Too close.

Jiho’s expression falters for half a second—something bitter catching in the corners of his mouth before smoothing into something cold and polite.

“Well,” He says, voice laced with mock surprise. “Didn’t realize this was a group outing.” 

No one laughs.

Hyunjin steps forward, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets. What no one else sees is how tightly his fists are clenched inside them—nails biting into skin, the only thing stopping him from striking first and speaking later. His expression, however, stays calm. “Well, I hope you don’t mind,” Hyunjin says lightly, “but we also planned to go into town today. So I thought—why not travel with you and Felix?” He tilts his head slightly, smiling without warmth. “That could make things, well…more fun.”

Jiho’s smile doesn’t waver, but his jaw ticks—barely. Felix feels it. The sudden drop in his mood. The way Jiho’s eyes cut toward him, then flicked quickly back to Hyunjin. “Of course,” Jiho says eventually. “ The more the merrier.” But there’s acid behind the sugar. And though no one says it out loud, it’s clear: whatever Jiho was hoping for tonight— it just changed . Felix, standing between the two of them, feels the shift in the air like storm pressure. But unlike before, he doesn’t fold beneath it. At least not yet. 

This time, he stands a little closer to Hyunjin.

For the carriages, they split up into groups as evenly as they can—which isn’t very even and rather odd—as Felix, Hyunjin, and Jiho end up in the first, while Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin, and Jeongin end up in the other behind them. Jiho steps toward theirs first, clearly expecting Felix to follow. He glances back once. “Shall we?”

But Hyunjin steps forward first instead, climbing in and taking the middle seat. Not the window. Not the far corner. The middle . Jiho’s lips twitch into something like a smile—tight and joyless—as he climbs in after, settling into the seat on the left. Felix follows last, eyes lowered briefly as he steps in and takes the seat on Hyunjin’s right. The door shuts behind them with a final-sounding click. Inside, the space is more intimate than it looks from the outside—dark wood panels, cushioned seats, velvet drapes swaying softly with the movement of the carriage.

Hyunjin sits with his back straight, arms resting loosely on his thighs, knees subtly angled toward Felix. He doesn’t touch him, but the message is clear in the way his body blocks the view—quiet protection drawn in posture alone. Jiho leans into his side of the bench, one leg crossed over the other, his hand resting lazily on the window ledge. His gaze, however, doesn’t bother with the scenery. It flicks to Hyunjin. Then to Felix. Then back again. “Are you feeling okay, Felix? You look a bit pale.”

“I’m fine,” He says eventually, keeping his voice even.

Jiho hums like he doesn’t believe him. “That’s good. I was worried you weren’t eating again.”

Felix stiffens beside Hyunjin, his gaze drifting toward the passing trees. He briefly wonders how Grimace, Pririchan, and even the dragon are doing—before Jiho sits forward slightly, just enough to make Hyunjin’s presence between them feel more like a wall he’s trying to peer around. “Do you remember when you used to get like that?” He continues, voice syrup-sweet. “Wouldn’t talk to anyone for days…We had to coax you out of it, remember? I’d bring you tea. You always liked it with honey.”

Felix’s fingers curl slightly into the edge of his seat. “That’s right.” He agrees.

“You were always so delicate and stubborn,” Jiho adds softly. “Some things haven’t changed, I guess.”

Felix finally turns, just a little, his eyes meeting Jiho’s. “ But they have, I’m not that person anymore, and I haven’t been for awhile .”

Chapter Text

The carriage slowed, wheels crunching over packed snow before coming to a stop at the edge of the town square. Hyunjin was out first, offering a hand to Felix with a cute flourish that made Jiho’s round lips press into a thin line. The second carriage pulled in shortly behind them, and soon Jisung, Changbin, Seungmin, and Jeongin were joining the group. Jisung bounded over first, grinning a bit too wide considering it was freezing outside and they were in the presence of someone uncomfortable to be around.

Eventually they fell into step together, and shortly the festive scene opened around them in a burst of color and sound—rows of stalls newly set up for the festival, all draped in vibrant cloths, some of their tables stacked with spices, sweet bread, and candied fruits strung on sticks. The air carried a mixture of roasted chestnuts, honeyed pastries, and woodsmoke that occasionally turned their heads.

Children darted past and between their relatives' legs with paper lanterns shaped like birds and wolves, their laughter carrying above the chatter of townsfolk bartering for wares. A puppet stage had been set up near the fountain, where carved wooden figures in monster masks twirled on strings to the rhythm of a drum, drawing a crowd of eager onlookers. Above it all, lights hung like constellations, glowing warm against the night sky, swaying gently in the breeze. Somewhere, a cello shifted into a livelier tune, joined by the pluck of a flute and a clear opera voice that carried sweetly over the square.

Hyunjin slowed his pace to match Felix’s, turning his head toward him as if he were more interested in his reactions than the attractions themselves. After all, Felix had only been to town a few times, and one of those times was to get him a birthday gift. Jiho lingered a few steps behind them all, his gaze flicking between Felix’s quiet awe and Hyunjin’s attentiveness, the press of his jaw betraying his irritation. They walked further into the square, and Felix stopped at a stall draped in ribbons and silks as Jisung had tugged him over to it with childish enthusiasm. As they spoke about the items displayed, Jiho’s attention slipped elsewhere. His eyes narrowed as he glanced at Jeongin, who walked quietly near Seungmin and Changbin, hands tucked into his pockets.

“You seem young to be traveling with us,” Jiho said lightly, matching Jeongin’s pace. “Are you family, perhaps?”

Jeongin glanced up at him, hesitation flickering before he dipped his chin. They started trailing behind a few steps. “…In a way. I’m with the Yang family.”

At that, Jiho’s brows lifted. “Yang…?” He tilted his head, as if considering something long tucked away. “Interesting. That would make you…” His words staggered off, the corner of his mouth curving as if he’d pieced something together. “Ah. I remember hearing a similar family name at the party the other day. Irene, wasn’t it? She caused quite the scene before running off.”

Jeongin stiffened, his jaw tightening. “She’s my sister,” He admitted reluctantly. “And yes…she was involved.”

Jiho hummed, savoring the discomfort. “So you were there as well? You must have seen the commotion. I recall Hyunjin calling her out for something. Something to do with Felix, right?”

Jeongin looked away, lips pressing thin. “I don’t know the details. It was handled a while ago. And I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

The boy’s unease was obvious, but Jiho didn’t necessarily care. He angled closer, lowering his tone so the others wouldn’t catch it over the music and chatter of the square. “But Irene is your sister,” He mused, voice smooth as silk. “And she seemed rather invested in Felix at the party, so I’m sure you know what sort of bond they share.”

Jeongin kept his eyes forward, shoulders stiff. “They don’t share any relationship,” He said quickly, almost too quickly.

Jiho’s lips curved. “Mm. You’re certain? It didn’t look that way to me. She seemed quite…emotional. I can only imagine what might have caused such a display.” He said, the sweetness in his tone carried an undercurrent that pried. “Tell me, what exactly is she to him?”

The weight of the question pressed harder the longer Jiho held it there. Jeongin swallowed thickly. “Theyre…not close. She upset…him, and he had a right to be upset.” Jeongin’s mouth opened slightly then closed, searching for words, a flicker of guilt—or was it worry?—crossing his face. He was just parting his lips to say something else when a booming voice cut through the crowd.

“Oi, over here!” Changbin waved them over toward a stall with piles of colorful tassels and braids hung from polished rods, each marked with tiny runes. “Free charms for knights—it’s tradition! Supposed to bring protection and fortune in battle!”

The interruption snapped Jeongin’s attention away. He all but exhaled relief, quickening his pace toward Changbin before Jiho could say more. Hyunjin drifted even closer to Felix as they walked, his hand brushing against Felix’s briefly before he let it linger, as if testing how long Felix would allow the contact. Felix’s breath caught almost imperceptibly, but he didn’t pull away—if anything, he leaned ever so slightly toward him, pretending to focus on a display of glass ornaments glinting like frozen stars before intertwining their fingers. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?” Hyunjin murmured by his ear, though his gaze never left Felix’s face. “Just like—“

“Sunshine,” Jiho said, loud enough to draw his attention away from Hyunjin—a self insert. “Do you remember when we used to come to festivals like this? You always liked the stalls with flowers, if I recall.”

Felix’s steps faltered just a fraction. His gaze flicked to Jiho, then away, back to the glow of the lanterns strung above them. “I…do,” He agreed softly. “They were always my favorite.”

Jiho smiled, clearly pleased at the response. “I thought so. You’d drag me through the crowd just to see every single one, even if they were all the same. You were so adorable back then,”

“He still is now, though, I’d say he’s more…endearing, perhaps. Especially when he clings to me at night.” The words landed in the space like a spark on dry kindling, suggestive enough to make Felix’s ears turn red, yet innocent enough to pass as a simple comment if one chose to take it that way. Felix’s eyes widened slightly, a soft flush creeping up his neck. “Hyunjin—” He muttered under his breath, half-scandalized, half-flustered. Hyunjin only smiled at him, far too pleased, before turning his attention back to the path ahead as if nothing at all was out of place. As if he hadn’t said something with a double meaning, as if—

Felix suddenly turned to glance back at Jiho.

The polite smile he usually wore was still there, but his eyes had darkened, narrowing just slightly—a look Felix knew far too well. It was the same expression he’d seen countless times when he was younger, before the scolding, before the bruises hidden under sleeves—the calm before the storm. Only now, it wasn’t just anger. There was something sharper, scarier, simmering beneath. Felix’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. Hyunjin’s words—light, teasing—suddenly carried a weight Felix hadn’t considered. To Jiho, it didn’t just sound like a playful boast—a brag about how they cuddle each other sometimes. It sounded like a claim. Like proof of intimacy.

Felix forced his eyes forward, trying to focus on the scenery, anything but that look. But the back of his neck prickled with cold sweat, and the memory of Jiho’s stare seared into his mind. Nonetheless, it isn't Jiho’s business. Or at least, that’s what he repeated himself, the words barely audible even in his conscious. It’s not. He shouldn’t care what Jiho thinks or assumes about their relationship, and he also shouldn’t care if Jiho sees them being close with each other when they’re partners. After another moment, Felix straightened his shoulders, forcing the tension out of his body. He wouldn’t let Jiho’s knowledge, real or imagined, dictate how he felt.

“Guys,” Seungmin spoke up. He walked in front of them and stopped to point at an outdoor restaurant where a unique, but delicious menu of foods were displayed. “We should grab something to eat before the fireworks start. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck in the crowd on the way to the lake later.” The idea was met with easy agreement—Jisung was already bouncing ahead, practically floating to the steaming vegetables and skewers sizzling over open flames. The scents hit them in a wave: grilled meats brushed with sweet glaze, fried dough dusted with cinnamon and sugar, candied tanglulu iced and sticky in their sugary shells, and much more.

They began to order, each picking something from the bustling display, when Jiho’s voice came through in its usual soft drawl. He stood just behind Felix, his gaze flicking over the food with thinly veiled distaste. “The foods here all seem to be oily and sugary types,” He remarked, skepticism sharpening every syllable. Tilting his head toward Felix, he added, “Is that all that’s served in the north?”

Felix didn’t react to the remark much, though his grip on the small bag of coins he had tightened. “The climate’s colder here,” He replied, eyes sliding toward the old vendor behind the stall. He gave them a small smile as an apology for what was being said before them. “So heavier food helps keep people warm.” He offered payment with a polite dip of his head, selecting a lamb skewer still steaming from the grill. The vendor’s face brightened at him, eyes crinkling with warmth. “An angel, thank you. I hope you enjoy it,” The vendor said kindly, passing the skewer over with both hands.

“Thank you.”

“Well, at this rate,” Jiho remarked, eyes flicking over the skewer, “You’ll get fat before spring even comes.” His tone was light, almost teasing, but the edge beneath it was clear. At that, the warmth of the vendor’s compliment evaporated in an instant, replaced with a familiar, bitter coldness low in his chest.

“…I doubt one skewer will do that,” Felix murmured, voice quieter than earlier. Before he could say another thing, Changbin’s head snapped toward Jiho, brows furrowing. “Hey,” He said sharply, voice almost carrying over the noise of the crowd. “No matter how you think of it—joke or not—that’s not okay to say to family.”

Jiho lifted his brows, the very picture of innocence, though the faint curl of his mouth betrayed him. “It was only an observation. You’re far too sensitive.”

“Or you’re just an ass,” Changbin shot back, his tone rising just enough that a couple of heads next to them turned their way. A nearby vendor paused mid-call, frown tugging at his mouth; a pair of women passing with paper cones of roasted almonds slowed just enough to glance over before quickening their pace again. Even a child tugged at her mother’s sleeve, whispering as she peeked toward the raised voices.

“Guys…” Felix felt the attention prickle hot against the back of his neck. His chest tightened, eyes darting between Changbin and Jiho—then to Hyunjin, who looked seconds away from adding his own words. The tension knotted tighter. Too many eyes. Too many ears. He shrank in on himself, shoulders curling inward, and shoved the rest of his skewer into his mouth. “Is there any way you can guide me somewhere else?” He asked under his breath, his tone carrying a neutrality that hid the anxiety in his chest.

Jeongin blinked at him, then glanced at the escalating spat behind them—Changbin’s sharp words, Jiho’s infuriatingly mild replies, Hyunjin’s simmering anger. His jaw tightened. He was torn between informing Hyunjin they’d be going somewhere or just leaving and coming back as soon as they could, but—

He looked at Felix and frowned. “There’s a side street,” He said, jerking his chin toward a narrow alley between two rows of lantern-strung stalls. “Not far. No one really goes there unless they’re cutting through to the theater, since it’s next to the Forrest. Do you want to get away from this so they’ll stop?”

Felix nodded once, relief flickering over his features. Without another word, Jeongin started weaving through the crowd, and Felix followed close, letting the pull of the quieter path wash over him. Soon, however, a pitched ringing filled his ears—like bells clashing too close to his head. He blinked, trying to shake it off, but the sound only swelled, drawing his gaze sideways. For a moment he swore he saw it—something moving against a stone wall. Not a person, not even a trick of lantern-light, but a shadow, smeared darker than the rest, almost dripping across the bricks.

Without thinking, his feet carried him faster, almost a sprint, weaving past a pair of vendors and toward the narrow side street Jeongin had mentioned. “Felix—hey, slow down!” Jeongin called, hurrying after him. Felix barely heard him. The ringing pulsed in time with his heartbeat, pulling him deeper into the gloom of the alley where the lanterns gave way to frost and dim white silence. He turned a corner—and froze. There he was—just as he expected. It was Grimace. His warped foxlike shape crouched in the shadows, his snout twisted into something between a sneer and a smile.

Jeongin skidded to a halt shortly behind Felix, eyes widening as his hand went straight for his sword sheath. “What the hell—?”

The thing crouched in the shadows was no trick of light. Its hulking, foxlike form twisted unnaturally, jagged edges of darkness peeling off it like smoke. Its eyes—if they could be called that—burned with a pale gleam, fixed entirely on Felix. “I think you should step back,” Jeongin warned, blade already half-drawn. “That’s a demonic monster, we don’t know if it’s dangerous. It shouldn’t be able to come this close to the town.”

But Felix didn’t move away. Instead, his tense shoulders seemed to loosen, his expression softening in a way Jeongin didn’t understand. He stepped forward, slow but sure, ignoring the sword at his side. “No—it’s okay.” His voice was certain. “He’s…he’s mine.”

Jeongin gaped at him. “Yours?”

Felix nodded. He crossed the last few steps until he was standing before the Fox demon. He crouched slightly, pressing his cheek against its warped head. His arms wrapped around the dark form, as if it were something familiar. Safe. The creature didn’t lash out. Instead, it leaned into him, the twisted curl of its mouth shifting just slightly—almost content, as its eyes also closed. “You see?” Felix smiled. “He’s friendly. This is—“

Felix glanced up just in time to see Hyunjin appear around at the corner, panting, eyes wide with fear. His gaze darted frantically, taking in the shadowed walls, the narrow alley, before it finally settled on Felix and Grimace. “Felix,” Hyunjin breathed heavily, relief flooding his features, washing away the tension that had gripped him moments before. He skidded to a stop, hands twitching at his sides before clenching into loose fists.

Felix startled. His arms loosened from Grimace, and suddenly the reality of what he was doing hit him like a stone in the gut. Minho’s warnings, Hyunjin’s strict forbiddance of seeing the monsters until his power was understood more—it all came rushing back. “I—I’m sorry,” Felix blurted, pushing himself back from Grimace as if he’d been caught doing something terrible. His hands curled against his sides, the odd warmth of the creature already fading from his skin.

But Hyunjin didn’t seem to hear the apology. He closed the distance in three strides, hands coming to rest over Felix’s shoulders, his face tight with something raw. “Don’t do that again, please.” He said, the words rougher than he meant them, his breath still uneven. “It was only three minutes—and I turned around and you were gone. Do you know how—” His voice broke off. The fear in his expression wasn’t anger—it was relief, too overwhelming and heavy to hide. He exhaled, softer this time, fingers lingering against the fabric of Felix’s coat. “Just…don’t scare me like that.”

Next to them, Grimace shifted, his ears perking up and his head tilting as if curious. But Hyunjin didn’t spare it—him—more than a glance. All that mattered was that Felix was here, safe, right in front of him. Jeongin's grip on his sword wavered. He had been holding it ready, poised between striking and retreating, but seeing Felix cling to the shadowy creature like a childhood friend had rattled him. The edge of his blade dipped slightly, though his knuckles still whitened around the hilt. “…What is going on?” He finally asked, his voice low but edged with disbelief. His eyes darted between Felix, still shaken but unharmed, and the strange figure that loomed in silence. “I’ve never heard of anyone hugging or personally knowing demonic monsters. How…?”

“Not here,” Hyunjin answered for Felix instead, shaking his head. “This isn’t the place for explanations. I’ll tell you and the others when the time is right later.”

Jeongin’s brows furrowed, and hesitation lingered in his eyes. He clearly wanted to press, but one look at Hyunjin’s desperate expression was enough. Slowly, reluctantly, he sheathed the blade back. And as if sensing the tension breaking, Grimace melted back into the wall, vanishing without a trace.

Felix sighed. “I’m really sorry. I—“

But before he could finish, Hyunjin’s hand was already on his waist, holding him close as though to reassure himself once again. His eyes softened the moment they met Felix’s. “Please don’t apologize, it’s…okay. But next time—tell me before you decide to chase strange animals into side streets, hm? And Jeongin—“ He turned his head, narrowing his eyes. “Thank you for sticking with Felix, but also inform me before going. That is a part of your job.”

Changbin was the first to notice when they came back. His brows drew together as he waved them over. “Where did you all disappear to?”

Seungmin was mid-chew on a third skewer, it seemed, but he frowned as well. “Yeah, you just vanished. Thought we’d have to send a search party.”

“Jeongin wanted to show him somewhere nice while we all were…talking.” Hyunjin says, glancing at Jiho. It was a simple enough excuse, believable, but not for Jiho—of course.

Jiho furrowed his eyebrows, and just by looking at his expression, Felix could tell that they chewed him out and argued to the point that even Jisung, who’s usually all smiles, wore a strained one now, his fingers drumming against his thigh with restless energy. Jiho’s posture was sharper than before, hands clasped behind his back in the way he always did when he was holding something in. Felix didn't need to ask what they said to each other or how it went down. The trace of tension still clung to Hyunjin too, though he was calmer now.

“Well, you could’ve said something.” Jiho’s eyes flicked briefly to Jeongin, who still hadn’t quite shaken his nerves from seeing Grimace, fingers twitching at his sides as though unused to standing still.

Felix forced a smile. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to worry anyone. Did you guys get to eat atleast? Are we ready to see the fireworks?” The question worked like a pivot, shifting the group’s attention away from whatever still hung in the air.

Jisung perked up instantly. “They’re starting soon, right? By the lake?”

“Mm.” Seungmin glanced toward the narrow path that went behind the square and sloped down to the said lake nearby. “The candlestick ice is supposed to be especially formed this year, it will be a nice experience. Maybe I’ll grab a fistful and stick some down Changbin’s shirt.”

That earned a snort from Changbin, and the mood lightened enough for the group to fall into step together. The chatter drifted easily as they followed the path, boots crunching over snow until the last of the market’s bustle gave way to open air. When the waterfront spread before them, Felix slowed without meaning to. The lake stretched wide and dark, its frozen surface alive with glasslike formations—candlestick ice, thrusting up in jagged pillars. Between them, thin seams of water caught the lanterns strung along the dock. Out on the lake, boats bobbed gently, already lined with barrels and racks of fireworks.

Other boats were already scattered across the lake. Felix tugged his coat a little tighter, watching one of the smaller boats slip between the ice spires as though swallowed whole by glass. Smart of them, he thought distantly, to have come early before the fireworks started. The line forming at the dock now stretched back toward the square, shuffling forward in uneven steps, each group waiting for their turn to board. The steward raised his voice again: “Two to three per boat! Paddles are on the bow!”

The line shuffled forward until their group reached the steward at the dock. He was an older man with a thick scarf wrapped high over his chin, his voice carrying over the sound of water lapping against the ice. “Two to three per boat. Step steady. Ah—royalty?” Recognition flickered across his face, and he bowed stiffly before straightening again. “If it pleases you, Your Highnesses and guards, you may choose your own arrangement,” he said, gesturing toward the waiting boats rocking against the dock. The light from the torch he was holding made the candlestick ice gleam like glass teeth against the boats.

Felix opened his mouth to answer, but Jiho was quicker. “Then I’ll be with Felix,” he said smoothly, his hand landing on top of Felix’s head with an overfamiliar ruffle of his hair. The gesture made Felix’s shoulders draw tight, though he forced himself to stay still. The steward nodded, already moving to wave them forward, when Hyunjin’s voice cut in—calm, but edged. “I’m sorry, I’ll be with Felix actually.”

The shift in the air was immediate. Felix felt it before he even dared glance up—the tension like static, Hyunjin and Jiho locked in a quiet battle neither would yield. The steward hesitated, eyes flicking uncertainly between them, clearly reluctant to refuse either.

Jiho furrowed his eyebrows, his composure cracking just enough to let out a scoff. “You’ve walked with him all day, Prince Hyunjin. Can I get a single moment with my family without you taking up that time?”

The steward’s gaze darted nervously between them, uncertain whether to intervene. Hyunjin’s jaw tightened, a retort already forming on his tongue, but before it could sour further, Jisung slid in with a grin, clapping a hand lightly to Felix’s left shoulder as if he hadn’t noticed the tension at all. “Good thing the boats fit three then, huh? Since you two don’t look like you want to sit together, why don’t I take the third spot along with Felix?” It was said lightly, almost like a joke, but the purpose of it landed exactly where it needed to.

The steward’s shoulders dropped in relief, nodding quickly. “Three it is. Step down carefully.”

Jisung stayed close to his side as they moved toward the dock, his presence a casual buffer that made the thin string between Hyunjin and Jiho a little easier to grasp. If they weren’t able to be on a boat together, then he should be the one in Hyunjin’s place to make sure Felix isn’t alone with Jiho.

The boat rocked gently as Jiho stepped in first. Felix followed, taking the middle seat with Jisung hopping down beside him, lantern light flickering across their faces as the steward gave the boat a shove into the lake. As soon as that happened however, Jisung went rigid. His back pressed stiffly against the seat as his fingers clamped onto the wooden edge hard enough that his knuckles paled. His legs trembled with every small sway, and a flush crept up his neck to his ears. Felix noticed at once, leaning closer with concern tugging at his expression. “Jisung? Are you okay?”

“I’m—” Jisung’s voice came out hesitant, almost sickly. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing before he forced the words out. “Fine. Totally fine.” But his shoulders shook with the boat’s movements, and his breath came uneven, and he closed his eyelids tightly as if to block everything out.

Jiho’s eyes flicked over him, and something amusing curled in his tone. “You must not like water, huh?” He tilted his head, voice deceptively soft. “You’re shaking.”

Jisung’s jaw tightened. “That’s not it,” His grip tightened on the bench until his fingers ached. “It’s not sea sickness,” He muttered through his teeth.

Jiho leaned back, studying him with exaggerated curiosity. “Then what is it? Oh, wait.” A slow grin tugged at his mouth, his tone tipping into mock delight. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of being out on water? You’re a knight, meant to protect my cousin, and yet—“

“—That’s enough,” Felix warned, a bit harsher than he usually allowed himself to sound. Jiho’s grin faltered, eyes flicking to him. Felix didn’t look away. “You don’t need to tease him over anything. You’ve got your own fears, don’t you? You’re not better than him just because this isn’t one of them.”

A tense silence settled, the boat rocking gently beneath them. Jisung stared down at his hands, stunned by Felix’s defense, while Jiho’s smile returned—slower this time, edged with something colder. “Bold of you to speak to me like that,” Jiho murmured, as if the words were meant only for Felix. “You’ve grown teeth since I last saw you. Though…” His gaze flicked to Jisung, still hunched and pale at Felix’s side. “They don’t look very sharp when you waste them defending someone else.”

Felix’s jaw tightened. “It’s not a waste if you care about that someone.”

Jiho leaned forward, resting his elbow casually against his knee, chin balanced on the back of his hand. His eyes gleamed faintly in the dark as though savoring the moment. “How very noble of you. Always playing the angel. But tell me—when you finally bare those teeth, will you bite for yourself, or just for others?”

The words wrapped around Felix like a snare. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, pulse hammering. The way Jiho said it—it wasn’t just a jab, it was a reminder. He knew. Jiho’s grin widened slightly, as if he’d caught the flicker of hesitation. He leaned back then, voice softening into a false ease that rang far too loud in Felix’s ears. “Well. It’s a good thing we’re alone now. I’ve barely had time to talk with you, Lixie.”

Felix finally drops his gaze, clenching his teeth together. The fireworks still hadn’t started yet. The lake was still filling with boats, one by one pushed off the dock by the steward who called instructions over the wind. Some boats drifted near the center of the lake where the racks of fireworks waited, while others lingered closer to the ice spires, their passengers huddled together against the cold. Hyunjin and the others had already boarded one and been sent out, although their boat glided off in the opposite direction.

Felix could still make out the faint outline of their figures, the orange glow of their lantern drifting further away until it became just another pinprick of light in the distance. The cold pressed in heavier now, the kind that settled into the bones. Breath fogged in the air, clinging briefly before vanishing, and every dip of the oars or ripple of water beneath the boat reminded Felix how thin the wooden planks were between them and the pitch black lake below.

“Tell me, Felix. What do you think I should do to punish Seoyeon?”

Felix blinked, his head snapping toward him. “…What?”

Jiho tilted his head, his grin faint, conversational. “She hurt you. Failed her mission. That sort of thing deserves punishment, doesn’t it? Give me some ideas.”

Felix’s throat tightened. The way Jiho said it—casual, like asking about the weather—made his stomach turn.

When Felix didn’t answer, Jiho leaned in a fraction. “You remember, don’t you? The knife. How she stabbed you.” His eyes flicked toward Felix’s side with eerie precision. “I’m sure you can still feel it. Even if the wound is gone, the memory stays, doesn’t it?”

“Did you order her to keep an eye on me? Seoyeon—was she ever really meant to hurt Hyunjin?”

For the briefest moment, Jiho just watched him. Then, with a soft laugh, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Of course she was meant to watch you, as well as another. Who else could keep track of you as well as she did? And Hyunjin?” He hummed, tapping a finger idly against his chin. “Well, he’s still alive, no? But he doesn’t matter right now. All I know is that she made a mistake. And you know how I deal with mistakes, especially ones pertaining to you.”

Felix’s stomach twisted. He wanted to say something—anything—but his thoughts snagged on something stranger. Jiho was speaking plainly, too plainly. He never did this. Not when others were present. Jiho liked masks. He liked keeping his words clean, untouchable. He was admitting things openly, freely, as if it didn’t matter who heard. As if—

Felix turned quickly toward Jisung, and the other was silent. Too silent. His fingers were still locked around the edge of the seat, knuckles straining, but there was no flex, no twitch, no life in the grip—like his hands had frozen that way and couldn’t let go. His face was pale beneath the flush still clinging to his cheeks, his jaw slack in a way that made him look both rigid and vacant at once. And his eyes—

Felix’s breath hitched.

Jisung’s eyes weren’t right. The warm brown of his irises had drained out, leeched into a flat, ashen grey that didn’t focus on anything. They stared straight ahead, unblinking, as though he were looking through the world instead of at it. Not asleep. Not fainted. Just…gone. The steadiness of his breathing made it worse. Slow, perfectly even, each inhale and exhale too measured, too mechanical, as if his body were being told what rhythm to follow.

It was wrong. All of it was wrong.

He whipped his head back to Jiho, words cracking sharp in the cold air. “What did you do?”

Chapter Text

Hyunjin sat stiff in the boat he was put in, the oar creaking every so often with each pull of icy water. Jeongin was across from him, quiet, his eyes trained on the drifting lanterns ahead. Everyone had been sent out in another direction; that seemed to be the pattern of the lake tonight. All of the boats were precisely and purposely spaced apart, a measure meant to keep the waters from overcrowding as more and more people joined the line for a boat to see the fireworks.

All of it also meant Hyunjin couldn’t be near Felix.

Couldn’t see him.

Couldn’t hear him.

He should’ve swallowed his hatred and forced his way onto that boat—Felix’s boat, Jiho’s boat. But if he had, Hyunjin was certain he’d have strangled the mage before they even reached the center of the lake. It was unbearable, the thought of Jiho’s presence so close to Felix, the way his words curled like rot into everything they touched. And now, knowing what Felix had gone through—knowing what his family had done—resentment burned hotter, heavier, until it ached in his chest.

“Hyunjin?”

For a moment, Hyunjin pictured Jiho falling—not graceful, not clean, but torn, ridiculous in ruin. He saw it in flashes: Jiho’s carefully pressed cuffs muddied and useless, his composed face gone slack while the crowd gasped and the world narrowed to the sight of him—broken and exposed. There was a sweet cruelty in that image, a justice that tasted like honey. Hyunjin felt almost giddy at the thought, as if every restrained bruise on Felix’s history could be paid back in a single, awful accounting. Should he go about killing Jiho during the hunting contest? He could fake it as an animal injury, perhaps, but even as the fantasy bloomed, a colder reality threaded through it.

If Jiho’s body were grotesquely blown to shreds, it’d be obvious he was at fault. The mages’ tower would starve for explanations; the kingdom would crack open under investigation; and Felix would be dragged into the fallout like a moth into a flame. Hyunjin’s hands flexed on the bench as the plan recoiled on him. How could he make Jiho’s end mean something and not everything, and how to protect Felix from the avalanche that would follow?

He scrunched his eyes shut and saw Jiho’s face again—smiling, placid—and for an instant, the world was only the want to make that smile impossible. It was immediate and dangerous, the sort of thought that felt like a promise and a confession all at once. Then he breathed, long and slow, and the bloodlust subsided into a coiled thing at his core: a vow that if Jiho ever touched Felix again, he would answer with something permanent regardless of the consequences.

“Hyunjin.” This time he heard a voice, louder, clearer through the fog in his head. He blinked, lifting his head. Jeongin was watching him closely, brows drawn, waiting for his attention.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah?”

“Earlier, while I was walking behind, Felix’s cousin was trying to question me about Irene and Felix’s relationship.”

Hyunjin’s expression stilled, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. “And what did you tell him?”

“Not much,” Jeongin admitted, glancing back down at the water slipping past the boat. “Just that she’s my sister. He pressed for more, but I didn’t give much. Still—” His mouth pressed into a thin line, “—it felt like he already knew something. He was fishing, not guessing.”

“He only asks questions once he already has you cornered. It’s never about getting answers—it’s about watching you struggle while you try not to give him what he wants. Be careful. The second you start talking, you’re not having a real conversation anymore—you’re stepping into one he’s already scripted. And if you’re not careful, he’ll twist you into just another weapon against Felix.”

“…I never want to turn on Felix again. Not after what happened.” Jeongin said. “I keep thinking about it—how I let myself be pulled along, how I didn’t stop her sooner. And he…” Jeongin exhaled sharply through his nose. “He didn’t deserve any of it. Irene still won’t apologize. Not properly, at least, and every time it comes up, she makes excuses—twists it around like she’s the one who was wronged. And the worst part is—” his hands flexed against his knees, “—she’s clinging to you, someone who doesn’t even return her feelings. It’s eating at her—Her pride, her head, and she’s blaming it on everyone around her.” Jeongin’s words lingered in the air, his bitterness thick enough to taste.

Hyunjin leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving him. “I know she’s your sister,” He said, voice steady, “I also know we were all close growing up, but she mistook that for me having feelings for her when I never did. She was always just there—an extra figure orbiting around Yeji, and sometimes I also saw her as my sister. But that’s all it ever was. Now, she’s simply a liability to Felix and herself. She’s clinging to things that will only rot her from the inside—lacking accountability for her actions.”

“Right,” Jeongin’s answer came short. The weight of Hyunjin’s words pressed heavily on him, and though he agreed—deep down, he knew Hyunjin was right—the bluntness stung. Hyunjin carried no doubt in his convictions, no hesitation. He was confident in a way he could never be, and for that, he almost envied Hyunjin.

-.-

Across the lake, Felix, Jiho, and Jisung still sat in their boat, the tension on it so oblivious to those around them. “Why are you accusing me?” Jiho began after his question, feigning a wounded tone. Felix’s jaw clenched, and he knew better than to trust it. This wasn’t innocence—it was performance. Ever since they were young, Jiho had always possessed psychological abilities—magic that wormed its way past the body and into the mind. His strength was never in brute force; it was in slipping past defenses, bending emotions, tilting the world until people doubted themselves and blamed those around them.

But this…this was new.

Felix glanced again at Jisung’s grey, vacant stare, the unnatural rhythm of his breath. Jiho had never been able to do this before—shut someone’s mind down entirely, hollow them out until only a shell remained. Not like this. If Jiho had grown this much stronger in silence, in secret—what else could he do now? How much further had he advanced without anyone noticing? Felix forced air into his lungs, trying to clear the anxiety from his chest. “What did you learn in the time I was gone? This—” he gestured toward Jisung, stiff and hollow beside him “—this isn’t what you could do before. What happens to people when you use it on them? What’s the lasting effect?”

Jiho’s expression barely shifted. He lifted one hand, examining his nails as if the question were trivial. “It doesn’t last forever, if that’s what you’re asking. Their minds recover, eventually. Though…” His eyes slid back to Felix, glinting faintly, “Not without cracks. Some memories blur. Some emotions… dull. I suppose that depends on how much I decide to block off in their mind.”

Felix’s stomach churned. “So you can just—switch people off?”

“Not everyone.” Jiho’s tone remained smooth, unhurried. “It only works when their minds are already unsteady. Fear, exhaustion, grief… anything that leaves them vulnerable. I can slip into the cracks then. Shape what I want, control them. But don’t worry,” He added with a faint smile, “It wouldn’t work on you. Or Hyunjin. Or any royal with strong enough abilities and guarded mindsets.”

“But that—“ The words tangled in Felix’s throat, faltering as the meaning of Jiho’s statement slammed into him all at once.

Abilities.

It struck like ice water pouring down his spine, cold and suffocating. His breath stilled, chest tightening as if he’d been dragged under and couldn’t surface. His pulse thudded in his ears as he forced the question out, barely above a whisper. “How do you…?”

Jiho’s lips curved, his voice lowering until it felt like the words coiled around Felix alone. “I’ve always known you’ve had a power,” He murmured. “Every royal blood eventually gets one, and you’ve just never realized that fact. What was it—since you were twelve?”

Twelve?

Twelve.

The number struck deeper than Felix wanted to admit, and suddenly his chest felt too tight. His mind turned backward, unbidden, dragging him to a time when Jiho’s shadow wasn’t something he feared but something he lived inside. Back then, Jiho had been his closest family member. Closer than his sibling, closer even than his other cousins. Arm to arm, shoulder to shoulder, they moved like two halves of the same thought. If Felix tripped, Jiho steadied him. If Jiho grew restless, Felix calmed him. They shared secrets no one else knew—the best hiding spots in the orchard, the pattern of stones across the river that let them cross without getting wet, the hollow under the stairs where they smuggled books and candied plums.

In a family as sprawling and strict as the Lees, their closeness had been a rare, glowing thing. Where the elders pressed rules and etiquette into Felix’s spine until he ached from holding himself straight, Jiho was the only family who let him breathe. They laughed until their ribs hurt, ran until the guards were breathless trying to keep up. Even when they were scolded, sent to kneel for hours in silence, Jiho would lean close when no one was watching, whisper something ridiculous, and Felix would bite back laughter until his chest hurt. They were inseparable. Felix had thought it a permanent friendship—something that could never shift, never sour.

But then twelve came.

It happened almost overnight. The day Felix presented as omega, and the day Jiho finished his studies and got admitted to the Mage's tower organization. Everything in the house changed in accordance with those two events. The maids’ eyes softened when they looked at Felix—no longer with respect for a young noble, but with pity, with worry, as if he had already become something breakable. His tutors began speaking slower, gentler, as though his mind, too, had grown fragile porcelain. Even his father, who once fussed over him with quiet affection, now sneered openly, like Felix’s very presence had curdled into an embarrassment.

And Jiho… Jiho changed most of all at the news of his presentation.

At first, it was subtle. A hand at the low of Felix’s back that lingered too long when guiding him through crowded corridors. A darker edge to his voice when Felix laughed too loudly with the others. What once had been an easy nudge to play outside with their friends became a tug at his sleeve, a murmur of “Stay here instead. Stay with me.” The castle halls grew smaller with Jiho’s shadow stretching longer beside him, his presence constant where it hadn’t always been.

Initially, Felix shrugged it off as Jiho being protective—he had always been, after all—and maybe this was just more of that. But it didn’t stop. The more Felix tried to brush it aside, the more Jiho’s hand would tighten around his wrist, his presence too close, too suffocating, as he whispered reminders of where he belonged, what was expected of him, who he should listen to. And so, eventually, Felix snapped. When the issue was brought up to him, Jiho’s expression had shifted in a way Felix couldn’t erase from his. Something dark and cruel slid into his eyes, but his voice was calm, patient, and pitying. “Because you’re an omega.”

The words landed like a blow to the stomach. Before Felix could respond, Jiho stepped closer, pressing him back against the cold wall of the corridor they had been in. “And omegas are weak,” Jiho said, voice low, almost soothing. “So they need to be protected—You need to be protected.”

“That’s not true,” Felix said, voice sharp despite the tremor in it. “That’s a stereotype—omegas aren’t weak. We’re not less just because of what we are. I’m still the same as I was before, there’s nothing different or weaker about me now.” For a flicker, he thought the words might land. That Jiho would laugh and shrug it off the way he used to when Felix challenged him. But Jiho only smiled faintly, something cold curling at the edges of it.

“You’re forgetting something,” He said. His hand didn’t move from the wall beside Felix’s head. “I’m an alpha. It’s my role to keep omegas in line. To protect them, to guide them, to make sure they don’t stray where they’ll get hurt. That’s what I was born for.”

Felix’s brows knit together, his stomach twisting. “Born for? When did you start talking like this? Did your classes teach you this?” His voice cracked on the question, disbelief seeping through the anger. “When did you get tainted by all these old rules? You sound like one of the elders—like my father.”

At that, Jiho’s eyes narrowed, though his voice remained maddeningly calm. “Well, your father isn’t wrong about his beliefs. He just sees what you can’t. These rules exist for a reason, Felix, and they’ve always been there. I’ve presented, and so my role has been chosen. Keep in mind, these rules aren’t there to chain you. They’re there to keep you safe. To keep you from making mistakes you can’t come back from. But don’t worry,” He said, tone honey-soft, as if offering a kindness. “I won’t let that happen to you. Because you’re mine to protect.”

“I’m not yours, but your cousin. I don’t need protection from you when I can protect myself. All I want is for you to act normal again.” Felix retorted.

Jiho’s smile thinned. His hand at Felix’s shoulder tightened, not enough to bruise, but just enough to remind. “Felix,” He murmured, almost laughing. “You can argue all you want, but nature doesn’t lie. Omegas are made to submit. To bare their throats. To be marked during their cycles. That’s not cruelty, it’s biology.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. “Yet that’s not my fate.”

Jiho’s hand lifted, fingers brushing the side of his throat where his scent gland was beneath the skin. The touch sent a shiver down Felix’s spine, instinctive and unwilling, and Jiho pressed down firmly as if he’d proven yet another point. “It is,” He whispered. “One day, someone will unfortunately sink their teeth here, and you’ll let them. You’ll crave it. You’ll want to be dominated. That’s how the story always ends for omegas. But as I said, I’ll protect you from that. I’ll keep you in check—I’ll make sure no one uses you, no one marks you, no one takes what isn’t theirs.”

And that was that.

Felix never forgot that moment. The way something once content between them had shattered, replaced by something he couldn’t name yet but knew was wrong. The first time he tried to tell his mother that Jiho was acting strangely and about what he said to him, it backfired. Jiho was already there, already speaking before Felix could get the words out. He was seated neatly across from his mother, posture perfect, tone calm, as if he’d been waiting. When Felix stammered out the beginning of his complaint, Jiho’s voice overlapped, awfully confident.

“He’s been restless,” Jiho said, addressing his aunt with an almost filial warmth. “It’s hard for him, to adjust after presenting. I think he gets confused about what’s appropriate sometimes. But he’s trying. I promise you, I’ll mentor him like you asked.”

The room folded around the words as if they were a spell. Felix’s mother lifted her head, eyes softening at Jiho as they always did when he spoke with admiration. The pride in her voice was immediate—so fond it made the edges of Felix’s protest sound thin and foolish. “Of course,” She said, smoothing a hand over her skirt. “You’ve always been sensible, Jiho, even after losing my sister and your father. If you think you can guide him, then I trust you.” Her trust was a gavel. It fell harder than any scolding.

Felix’s mouth opened; whatever he’d intended to say—about the corridor, the pressure, the way Jiho had pushed him toward obedience—crumbled on his tongue. The family praised Jiho for his discipline, for his guidance, for his unwavering “patience” with Felix. They didn’t see how isolating it was, how suffocating. To them, it looked like Jiho was lifting him up.

To Felix, it felt like being caged.

When his first heat came, he hadn’t known what was happening at first. Only that his skin felt feverish, that his clothes clung uncomfortably to him, and that every brush of fabric made his body jolt like he’d been touched. His breath came quicker, his chest tight with something he didn’t understand. He remembered wandering the halls at night, looking for the nurse, or a doctor perhaps—to give him fever medicine. His mouth was dry, his thighs wobbling with every step, and the air felt too heavy around him, thick with a scent that didn’t feel like his own but was unmistakably pouring off him.

That was when Jiho found him.

The older boy stepped out from a nearby study room, his eyes narrowing as they landed on him. Jiho’s lips curved—not kindly, not like before. “Felix, do you even realize what you’re doing?” He murmured, stepping closer. “Walking through the halls like this, leaking your scent everywhere. Do you want someone to find you like this? Is that it?”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows, his lips parting in disbelief. “What? I was going to find cold medicine. I just—”

Jiho’s laugh was soft, cruel. He came closer, leaned down, too close, until his hand braced against the wall beside Felix’s head. “Cold medicine? Don’t lie. You’re in heat, Felix.”

Heat.

At that declaration, Felix had realized he was in fact, right. This—the fever, the anxiety—it was his first heat. It had come early—days earlier than the physicians had estimated, like a thief when he wasn’t prepared. He remembered trying to steady his breath, pressing his palm over his chest as if that could quiet the frantic rhythm of his heart. “—I’m sorry,” He whispered in the end, bowing his head as though an apology could erase the shame curling within him. His voice broke, and his words tangled as he tried again. “I truly didn’t know, I thought it was a cold—my apologies. I’ll—I’ll go back to my room.” He tried to step past Jiho, but fingers closed tight around his arm.

“You’re sorry?” His grip was firm, almost punishing, as he tugged Felix closer and pressed him against the cool stone wall. “You think sorry changes the fact that you’re flaunting yourself like this? That every alpha in this house won’t smell you?”

Felix shook his head desperately, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “I wasn’t trying to. I swear, I didn’t know—”

Jiho leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous murmur by his ear. “Of course you didn’t. You’re too innocent to understand, aren’t you?” His breath ghosted against Felix’s neck, his lips lifting into something sickening. “But that’s exactly why you shouldn’t be surprised if someone takes what you’re carelessly giving away. If someone pins you down right here, and has their way with you.”

At that, Felix’s vision blurred. Tears welled up hot and fast. Shame and fear clawed at his throat, choking him. He shoved at Jiho’s chest with all the strength he could gather, panic and revulsion twisting inside him. The contact broke, if only just, and Felix didn’t waste a breath. He tore himself free and bolted, feet slamming against the stone floors as he ran, tears streaming down his face, desperate to put as much distance as possible between himself and Jiho’s words, Jiho’s hands, Jiho’s eyes.

Felix’s presentation started when he was twelve.

And at the very same period, Jiho’s influence skyrocketed. That day wasn’t just the beginning of Felix’s new life as an omega—it was also the day word spread of Jiho’s admission into the Mage Tower. While Felix’s body betrayed him, branding him with a status others pitied or scorned, Jiho’s triumph was paraded through the halls. Servants whispered of his brilliance, tutors sang his praises, and his parents looked at him as though he were the future of their name.

The contrast was brutal. Felix became something fragile in their eyes, a boy to be managed, sheltered, coddled. Jiho, meanwhile, became the example—sharp, untouchable, revered. His voice carried more weight in the household than it ever had before, and soon, it was his word against Felix’s whenever something arose between them. His parents leaned toward Jiho’s version of events without question, even his mother choosing to trust her nephew’s composure over Felix’s shaken protests.

When Jiho became his “mentor,” Felix’s life truly became hell.

Jiho began dictating his days in ways Felix hadn’t thought possible. Curfews were set without discussion—after dusk, he wasn’t to leave his room unless Jiho approved. Lessons that once took place in airy libraries were now conducted in smaller, dimmer spaces where Jiho could watch every twitch of his hand. His meals were monitored too: if he left food unfinished, Jiho was there to report it, reminding him with a sharp look that omegas had to keep up their strength.

The garden he loved became off-limits unless Jiho accompanied him. Invitations from family friends to play or study together were refused on his behalf. When Felix complained, Jiho’s answers never changed—“for your protection,” always said with such calm, patient finality that resistance seemed pointless.

What hurt most was how no one questioned it. His mother only nodded approvingly, murmuring about how Jiho was molding Felix into someone disciplined, someone safe. His tutors praised Jiho’s “influence” for taming Felix’s supposed recklessness. The truth—that Jiho’s control wasn’t protection but possession—was invisible to everyone else, leaving Felix with no one to confide in. And so, the corridors that once felt like home grew narrower by the day.

Back in the boat, Felix’s fingers curled tight against his knees, nails biting through fabric. It made no sense—none of it. Jiho claimed he had known all this time about some supposed “power,” since he was twelve, but how could he have known when Felix himself never did? There had never been a moment, no strange awakening or burst of energy. Nothing that had made Felix feel special, or chosen, or anything other than weak.

But Jiho was calm. Too calm.

“You really don’t remember?” Jiho asked, almost lazily, as though they were discussing something unimportant. “The doctors. The samples.” His tone dipped lower, coaxing, cruel. “They always drew more blood from you than anyone else. Always checking, always reporting.”

“I..” Felix furrowed his eyebrows.

Of course, he remembered. How could he not? He had always hated doctors—those stiff-smiled men and women who came and went with their ink-stained ledgers and gloved hands. They never treated him like a boy, only a problem to be solved, something to poke and prod and measure. They said they wanted to help, but their questions were never-ending, their instruments always cold. And their promises—we’ll keep this between us—were never true. They whispered everything back to his mother, every stumble, every symptom, every shred of weakness.

As he got older, his cycles became more violent. What had started as small, faint spells when he was younger grew into something vicious, attacks that left his body trembling and his head splitting open like it would shatter from the inside. He had begged them for answers, pleaded through clenched teeth while his body convulsed and his heart hammered against his ribs. Why me? What’s wrong with me? But the doctors never had answers. Only more needles. More samples. More silence. Felix swallowed hard, the cold air cutting down his throat. If Jiho knew something from all that…from the years of intrusion and secrecy…

His hands clenched tighter. He hated him all the more for bringing it up now, here, when Jisung sat blank-faced beside them, lost in that grey-eyed daze.

“It was abnormal, you know. You were always sensitive, but those episodes of yours—they weren’t ordinary. Not for a royal. So I asked to oversee the data. You should’ve seen it, Felix. Every page confirmed what I suspected. Your body was going through its blooming.”

The word landed foreign against Felix’s ears. “Blooming…?”

Jiho leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was gifting Felix with some sacred truth. “That’s what we call it at the organization. Every royal gains their powers differently, but it always starts the same. The body revolts. Blood, fever, pain. It’s your bloodline trying to force your power to the surface. That’s what those fits of yours were. You were blooming.”

Felix’s breath hitched, icy air burning in his lungs. All those years of pain that left him begging for answers—everyone brushed them aside, told him he was sickly, delicate, weak. But Jiho was saying it wasn't a weakness at all. It was something else. Something he never knew was inside him.

And Jiho had known all along.

Rage and nausea tangled in his chest until he couldn’t separate them. The one person who should have told him—who claimed to care for him—had instead kept it to himself. Watched him suffer. He—

“You think I kept you in the dark because I didn’t care to let you know? No, Felix. I did it because caring for you meant keeping you alive. If you had known about your powers earlier on, the Tower would have known too. Do you understand what that means? They would have taken you—stripped you from this house, from me—locked you away and twisted those gifts into chains. You’d never have had the chance to decide how to use them. You’d be nothing more than their next war weapon, and that risk stands now. And the danger wasn’t just the Tower. You never saw it, but I did. Demonic monsters followed you. They were drawn to you, like moths to a flame. If I hadn’t kept you behind walls, if I hadn’t pulled you back every time you slipped out—you would have been devoured. Do you understand? They weren’t all tameable. Some of them wanted to kill you.”

“But—“

“Felix, that’s why I disciplined you so harshly when you broke free of my protection. It wasn’t cruelty—it was carefully crafted control. Scaring you was the only way I knew to keep you safe. Every restriction, every punishment, every time I forced you back into line…it was to stop you from stepping into jaws you didn’t even know were waiting for you.”

Felix stared at him in disbelief, the words scraping raw from his throat. “That’s your reason, really? Because I’m an omega, and because of the organization? Do you think that—that the abuse, the torment, my life—the scars on my fucking back were worth that?” His voice cracked, and his hands curled into fists. “Those wounds were the worst way you could ever enforce that so-called protection. And still, that doesn’t explain the way—”

He stopped, a sudden wave of nausea crashing through him, bile burning his throat. His vision swam, but he forced the words out anyway, every syllable jagged. “Does that also explain why you continuously tried to frame me and ruin every marriage I’ve ever had? Why you crawled into the cracks of my life and poisoned them before they even began? Why you hurt everyone around me? Why you—” Felix’s breath hitched, fury spilling into revulsion. “Why you act so incestuously weird around me?”

Silence fell heavy between them. Jiho didn’t flinch at the accusation, didn’t look away—if anything, his expression hardened, as though Felix had finally struck the nerve he’d been guarding all along. His answer would decide everything. “Those times when you’d force me to do things against my consent, when you’d lash out at me if you ever felt disrespected, when you made me strip and inspected my body—”

“Felix, that’s enough.” Jiho’s tone snapped like a whip, sharp and warning, meant to silence him.

But Felix didn’t stop. His chest heaved, nausea and fury tangling so tightly he thought he might choke on it. “No, it isn’t enough! You think you can hide behind the excuse of protection, but what about that? Was that protection too? Was humiliating me, touching me, controlling me like I wasn’t even a person—was that your noble sacrifice as well?”

Jiho’s eyes darkened, his mask faltering. His jaw tightened, the controlled veneer giving way to something raw, dangerous. For a moment he looked less like the guardian he claimed to be and more like the very monster he warned Felix about. “You really don’t understand. I keep saying that everything I did, even the things you call abuse—it was to keep you by my side, to keep you safe. If I had to break you to do it, then so be it. Because no one else will ever protect you like I have. I pushed people away because anyone who got close to you risked being hurt by what you are, or by what I would do to keep you. And yes—I interfered. I lied, I planted doubts, I made sure those relationships died before they could take root. Maybe I’ve damned you to a lonely life, but I couldn’t bear you being torn apart for the rest of your life by fools who thought they owned a piece of you.” His tone sharpened. “If being the villain was the price of keeping you whole—if being hated by you meant you remained alive and out of cages, then I paid it.”

“No, what you fail to understand, is that I don’t need you to protect me. I’m a grown man, not a child anymore. I can keep myself safe—and I have a husband who’s more than willing to do it too. You’re not my shield. You’re not my savior. I want you gone, Jiho. I don’t need you anymore, and I never did.”

“You’re just saying that,” Jiho hissed. His voice shook, not with grief but with rage. “That’s the sickness in you speaking—the recklessness. This is why you’ve always needed correction. Why you still do.”

Felix held his ground. “Am I not allowed to voice my opinions? Being in your presence frightens me worse than whatever danger is out there for me.”

“FELIX—“ Jiho’s face contorted. His hand shot out, fingers curling, reaching for Felix’s throat with a speed and intent that made Felix’s stomach drop. The air itself seemed to still, salt and poison thick on his tongue—

BOOM!

A firework cracked open above them, scattering red and gold across the black sky. The explosion echoed over the water, startling a flock of seabirds from the rocks nearby. The reflection of color rippled across the waves, painting Jiho’s twisted expression in bursts of light. The noise snapped him out of it. His hand froze inches from Felix’s neck, his chest heaving like he’d just surfaced from deep water. Across the way, another boat erupted with shouts of laughter and awe as more fireworks went up, the celebration carrying across the open lake. Jiho lowered his hand slowly, his face caught between fury and something rawer—shame, fear, longing. He looked like a man suddenly aware of how close he’d come to sinking.

At another colorful boom, Jisung jerked violently beside them. He gasped like a drowning man breaching the surface, clutching at his temples as though tearing something invisible from his head. His breath came ragged, his eyes wide and disoriented. “What—” Jisung groaned, squeezing his head as another firework cracked overhead, shaking him further from Jiho’s trance. “What…the hell…shit. Why didn’t you guys tell me the fireworks had already started? I…think I was dozing off?”

“Maybe you should’ve paid more attention,” Jiho spat, crossing his arms around his chest. Jisung scratched his neck, ignoring his comment, then looked over to Felix—

“Sure,” Jisung scratched at his neck, dismissing him with a faint snort, and turned his gaze toward Felix—

His stomach tightened. Felix wasn’t speaking. His whole body was trembling, a violent quiver running from his shoulders to his legs, like a storm contained in fragile skin. Jisung couldn’t tell if it was fear or if it was rage spilling through him, cracking him open from the inside. For a long, taut moment, the only sound was the distant crackle of fireworks and the hush of waves against the hull. Then Felix inhaled sharply, the sound catching in his throat before he forced the words out. “I want to get off the boat.” The declaration came through, final and absolute.

Jiho’s head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. “You’re being unreasonable. Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? You’re ruining this for Jisung.”

Felix’s laugh broke out harsh and humorless. “The irony of you saying I’m ruining things—when you’ve spent my whole damn life doing exactly that—”

“Enough.” Jisung’s voice cracked across the space between them, firmer than usual. He shoved himself upright despite the lingering dizziness, planting himself between them before the fight could spiral further. His brows knitted, his chest rising with agitation. “Both of you, stop. I don’t care what this is about—and I’m not letting it play out here.”

Another firework exploded above, showering green and gold across the water. Jisung didn’t even glance at it. He grabbed the oars, jaw tight. “We’re going back. Right now.” The boat creaked as he pushed them toward shore, the fireworks painting restless bursts of color over the three of them in brittle silence.

Jiho’s glare burned holes into the back of Jisung’s head as he set the oars into the water. “Why are you listening to him?” Jiho demanded, his voice taut with disbelief. “He’s being hysterical. You don’t owe him obedience.”

Jisung didn’t falter, didn’t even glance at him. “I do owe him. He’s my prince.” He looked over his shoulder briefly, meeting Felix’s eyes with a quiet firmness. “And I’m his knight. That’s enough reason.”

Jiho’s mouth pressed into a hard line, but he said nothing more. The silence that followed felt heavier than the night air. Fireworks bloomed overhead, their shimmering colors reflected in the rippling waves, but Felix barely registered them. His thoughts curled in tighter and tighter circles, strangling him. Jiho’s hand had almost been on his throat. Inches away. If not for the sky splitting open with noise and light, Felix wasn’t sure what would’ve happened—whether he’d be gasping for breath right now, or worse, limp against the side of the boat.

He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep the tremors from rattling out of control. Jiho’s voice replayed in his head—correction, possession, mine. Each word branded over scars that already throbbed, reopening wounds that never healed. And yet Jiho still sat a few feet away, calm, breathing the same air, as if he hadn’t just revealed everything Felix had been concerned about since the beginning l—confirmed it.

He really wanted to throw up.

And he really wanted Jiho to vanish from his life entirely. He wanted to scream, to strike, to make the world feel something for all he had endured. He wanted—

Hyunjin.

Oh, Hyunjin.

The reminder of him settled in like the sun after the rain—the way his presence had always grounded Felix, even when everything else threatened to collapse—left him in longing. He could feel it now: the ache of needing, of craving the comfort Hyunjin gave him without judgment, without chains, without the suffocating weight of possession. Jiho had tried to own him, manipulate him, break him—but Hyunjin…Hyunjin wanted him as he was, flawed, alive. The tremors in Felix’s body didn’t stop, but they shifted, subtly, as his thoughts settled on Hyunjin. The storm inside him—the fury, the fear, the nausea—coiled around something steadier, something he could cling to. He closed his eyes, and in that moment, he imagined Hyunjin waiting, patient and unflinching, the only anchor he needed in a life.

Chapter Text

The boat scraped against the dock with a low groan, lantern light flickering off the ice as the steward reached out to steady it. Felix’s legs felt unsteady beneath him as he stood, his heart hammering harder with every step onto solid ground. Jiho’s shadow lingered at his back, Jisung still dazed and quiet, but none of that mattered—because waiting at the end of the dock were two familiar figures.

Hyunjin. Jeongin.

For a beat, Felix thought his vision had betrayed him. That this was just some sick twist of the head. But then Hyunjin’s gaze found him, and a small, lopsided smile tugged at his lips, and the gentleness of it broke something open in Felix’s chest. His feet moved of their own accord, faster and faster until he closed the distance between them. And then he was there, pressing himself into Hyunjin’s chest, burying his face against the familiar warmth of him, clutching at his coat like he’d disappear if he let go. Hyunjin’s arms came around him instantly, strong and certain, one hand splaying over the back of his head.

Felix’s voice came out muffled. “I’d…like to go back. I’m tired. I don’t want to stay out anymore.”

“Tired?” Hyunjin leaned down, lips brushing his hair, his answer immediate. “Alright. We’ll go back.” He shifted just enough to glance at Jeongin. “Find Changbin and Seungmin. Tell them we’re leaving now.”

Jeongin nodded without hesitation and set off toward the dockside. “I’ll be going as well,” Jiho’s voice cut in, calm but edged. As he glanced at Felix, his eyes narrowed. “My mood’s soured.”

Hyunjin’s hand flexed against Felix’s back, but he didn’t rise to it. Instead, his eyes flicked to Jisung, who lingered close by, rubbing at his temple with an uneasy frown. “Okay. Jisung, you’re coming with us too. Why do you look a little…dazed?”

Jisung gave a short laugh, though it was thin, forced. “My head’s throbbing. Feels like I’ve been hit in the head with a mallet.” His hand pressed firmer against the side of his skull, his gaze still unfocused. “It’ll pass, I think. I’m just…dizzy.”

Felix stiffened slightly in Hyunjin’s arms, a chill crawling down his spine at the words. He knew it wasn’t just dizziness, despite Jisung being seasick. It wasn’t that at all, after what Jiho had done. And he’d make sure they all know what happened.

The ride back passed in tense silence, the rhythm of carriage wheels and trotting hooves over packed snow doing little to distract the unease lodged in Felix’s chest. By the time they reached the castle gates and stepped inside, however, the weight of the night seemed to settle lighter over all of them. Everyone lingered only long enough to exchange their goodnights. Jiho was the first to peel away, his voice smooth and unbothered. “I’ll be in the library,” He said, adjusting his coat. “There’s a book I need to look over. I’d also like to be alone tonight with no interruptions.”

“Fine by us. That’s perfect.” Changbin stretched with a groan, clapping a hand on Seung-min's shoulder. “I’m going to bed before I freeze solid.”

“Same,” Seungmin muttered, too tired to argue—too tired to push Changbin's hand off and start their usual banter.

Jisung rubbed at his temple, still wincing faintly. “I’m heading to Minho’s for some tonic—something to clear my head.”

That earned him a flat, pointed look from Seungmin. “Sure,” He said dryly. “Just…don’t abuse that ‘tonic.’ I don’t want to hear Minho complaining to me later.”

Jisung only gave a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck as color touched his ears. “No promises,” He muttered, shuffling quickly down the hall before anyone could press the subject further.

Tonic.

The way Seungmin said it, the way Jisung reacted, made it sound like something more than medicine. Something suggestive, something everyone else seemed to understand. Felix almost asked. Almost—out of pure, undying curiosity. But the words caught in his throat, and he decided against it. There were more important things to dwell on.

So instead, he tugged lightly on Hyunjin’s sleeve. Hyunjin glanced down, reading him instantly, and gave a small nod.

“Goodnight,” Felix said softly to the group. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

There were a few murmured goodbyes in return before he and Hyunjin slipped away, their steps quiet down the hall toward their own wing. When the door of their room shut behind them, Hyunjin shrugged out of his coat first, draping it over the stand by the wall, while Felix tugged at the clasps of his own, fingers stiff from the cold. He was first to speak, rather blatantly. “Jiho used his powers to get into Jisung’s head,”

Hyunjin stilled mid-motion, whipping his head toward Felix. “He what?”

Felix swallowed, his coat slipping from his hands onto the chair. “On the boat…Jisung wasn’t himself. He was staring straight ahead, empty, his eyes gone grey like he wasn’t even there. Jiho kept talking to me—things he never would’ve said if Jisung could hear him. I thought it was odd, and then I realized.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened as he crossed the space between them. “Did he—did he use it on you? What did he say?”

Felix hesitated, the words tangling in his throat. “Things about the past. About me. About… knowing I had powers since I was twelve.” His voice shook despite himself. “But Hyunjin, the point is—he can shut people off. Just—snuff them out of their own mind. He could’ve commanded Jisung to drown himself, and he would’ve. His magic only works on people without abilities, or those a part of royal families.”

“So he can puppeteer the weak, anyone not gifted or protected by blood? Tell me more about this. Everything he said to you—And if you’re comfortable…tell me more about the past.”

Felix’s throat worked, the words clawing upward but catching on old wounds. For a moment, he thought about shaking his head, about burying it down again where it couldn’t be touched. But he did—piece by piece, he told him.

From everything Jiho said on the boat, to his past at the Sunshine kingdom. All of the details, lies, abuse, his parents, the things Jiho has done, his relationship with Chan—

Everything.

Time slipped by unnoticed. The crackle of the hearth dwindled low as Felix unraveled his story—the manipulations, the punishments, the twisted words Jiho had pressed into him since they were children. The corridors where his voice had been stolen, the heat that had turned into shame, the hands that had lingered where they never should have. He spoke of the way Jiho had smiled through lies in front of his mother, the way his own protests had been turned against him. And tonight—Jisung’s blank stare, Jiho’s calm confession, the mention of powers Felix himself had never known.

When the words finally ran dry, the room was hushed.

Hyunjin hadn’t interrupted once. He hadn’t even shifted, save for the gradual tightening of his jaw, the slow curl of his fists in his lap. He sat in silence now, his eyes fixed on some distant point past the flames of the hearth. To anyone else, he might have looked unbothered. But Felix knew him too well. He could see the storm coiled tight behind that stillness, the rage wound so sharply it threatened to cut. Felix studied him nervously, fingers twisting in his sleeves. “Hyunjin?” He called, uncertain.

Hyunjin turned to him. The hardness in his gaze softened the moment it met Felix’s, like glass easing into water. He didn’t reach for questions. Didn’t interrogate for more details. Instead, his voice was gentle. “If it’s alright with you, I’ll tell the others what Jiho can do. About his powers, what he did to Jisung. They need to know, so they can guard themselves. So you’re not the only one carrying this.”

Felix nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’s okay.”

Hyunjin smiled at that, reaching out and tucking a damp strand of hair behind Felix’s ear, his hand lingering at the side of his face for a moment longer than necessary.

And that was that.

Later that night, the room was quiet save for the faint scratch of pencil on paper. Hyunjin sat beneath the covers, propped against the headboard, sketchbook balanced in his palm. His brow furrowed in focus, the lamplight catching on the curve of his cheekbone, the soft fall of his hair against his temple.

The bathroom door clicked open, releasing a faint curl of steam. Felix padded out barefoot, his skin still flushed from the bath, blond hair soft and fluffy around his face. Without makeup, without his usual hard composure, he looked younger somehow—exposed in a way that always made Hyunjin’s chest flutter.

Felix paused for a moment, watching him. The steady line of Hyunjin’s shoulders, the ease with which he worked, the faint smudge of graphite against his knuckle—it all tugged at him, warm and grounding. Slowly, almost shyly, he crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. Hyunjin glanced up as the mattress dipped, his expression softening immediately. “All relaxed?” He asked quietly.

Felix nodded, his lips forming into a small curve. Instead of answering, he moved closer, closing the space between them until he could tuck himself neatly into Hyunjin’s lap. He settled there carefully, one hand braced against his chest, the other curling against his side.

Hyunjin arched a brow but said nothing, the faintest trace of amusement flickering in his eyes as he glanced down at him. “What are you up to?” he murmured, though his hand shifted automatically to Felix’s waist, steadying him. Still, he turned the page and kept sketching, pencil moving in smooth strokes.

Felix only watched him. Watched the line of concentration in his brow, the faint curve of his lips, the way he held him without even thinking. His chest ached, soft and heavy, with the thought that he didn’t deserve any of this—and yet, somehow, Hyunjin was here, holding him, loving him. How had he gotten so lucky?

After a long moment, Felix reached out and touched the edge of the sketchbook. Hyunjin let him take it without question, and Felix set it aside on the nightstand. When Hyunjin looked back, curious, Felix leaned in—first brushing his lips against his softly, then tilting lower to kiss along his jaw, and down to the curve of his neck.

Hyunjin’s breath caught, pencil forgotten, his body stilling beneath the warmth of Felix’s mouth. He hummed against his skin, trailing lower until his lips brushed over the sensitive swell of Hyunjin’s scent gland. He lingered there, his breath hot, teasing. Then, without hesitation, he sealed his mouth over it, sucking hard enough to make Hyunjin jolt.

A low sound broke from Hyunjin’s throat, half-moan, half-groan. His fingers dug into Felix’s waist, grip tightening as though to ground himself, but Felix didn’t relent. He bit down, sharp enough to sting, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh before soothing it again with his tongue. Hyunjin’s head tipped back against the headboard, his chest rising and falling fast. Every nerve in his body lit like fire, his composure unraveling piece by piece beneath Felix’s mouth.

Felix dragged his mouth down from Hyunjin’s gland, leaving the skin flushed and damp, before easing back onto his lap. He sat lower this time, perched right on Hyunjin’s thighs. His eyes flicked down—catching the telltale strain in the fabric of Hyunjin’s pants—and something dark and pleased flickered across his face. “Already?” he murmured, breath feathering over Hyunjin’s lips, though he didn’t kiss him again. Instead, he slid one hand down between them, fingers pressing over the hard line beneath Hyunjin’s clothes. The pressure made Hyunjin shudder, a guttural sound leaving him before he could swallow it back.

It didn’t help that Felix’s palm moved in slow, infuriating circles, the friction of fabric only heightening the ache straining beneath it. He tilted his head, studying Hyunjin’s face—the way his lashes fluttered, his throat bobbed, the muscle in his jaw ticking as though he were physically holding himself back from pleading. “Is this all you want?” Felix asked softly, feigning innocence as his thumb pressed against the outline of his length. “Can you get off like this?”

“No,” The alpha’s voice cracked—desperate. His eyes lifted, dark and pleading, finding Felix’s. “Please. Don’t—don’t tease me like this. Touch me. Properly.”

A shiver of satisfaction raced through Felix at the sound of him begging.

Felix let the silence stretch, savoring the tremble in Hyunjin’s frame before finally tugging at the waistband of his pants. The fabric gave way easily under his fingers, slipping low enough to free the flushed length beneath. His hand curled around him, warm, soft. He strokes him with rough and slow tugs of his hand, tightening the loop of his fingers on every deep stroke and then loosening as he goes back down to the base, over and over until his thighs tense beneath Felix’s weight. “Angel…if you keep this up, I won’t last. But I’d rather have you falling apart with me than sitting there only watching.”

Felix shook his head, lips curving into a small, stubborn smile as his hand kept its punishing rhythm. “I’ll be okay,” He murmured. “I want to do this for you…to thank you.”

“Thank me?” Hyunjin sat up and leaned forward, and suddenly, his arm was sliding around Felix’s waist. His hand slipped lower, cupping and squeezing the small curve of his ass. The noise Felix made was startled, his strokes faltering for just a second. “So why don’t I return that favor too? I’d also like to thank you. You’re wet already, aren’t you?” Hyunjin’s words hung heavy in the air, curling like smoke around Felix’s ear. He froze for a second, and his lips stayed pressed together.

Hyunjin’s grin deepened, eyes dark as he studied Felix’s flushed face. “Mm. Quiet, huh?” His hand squeezed again, thumb pressing into the soft flesh of his ass before sliding lower, grazing just shy of where Felix ached most. The shiver that tore through Felix’s body was all the confirmation he needed.

“You think I won’t notice if you don’t say it,” Hyunjin murmured, his tone husky, low, the words meant for Felix’s ears alone. His grip on Felix tightened, holding him still as his fingers edged closer, teasing through the barrier of thin fabric. “But your body never lies.”

Felix’s breath stuttered, his strokes faltering again as his thighs pressed closer together instinctively. Hyunjin caught the movement, fingers dragging lower, tracing over damp heat through fabric—almost wet, from how slick Felix was getting. And shortly, Hyunjin’s patience snapped like a bowstring. With a firm tug, he slipped his hand past the thin fabric, fingers spreading over slick heat that left no room for denial.

“Hah—“ Felix gasped, his whole body jolting against Hyunjin’s chest, the sound high and needy before he bit it back with trembling lips.

“My stars, Felix,” Hyunjin murmured as he felt how wet Felix was, dripping for him already. His fingers slid easily, coating themselves in the mess Felix tried to hide. “You were going to keep this from me?” His tone wavered between amusement and hunger, pressing each word against Felix’s skin like a bruise. “Sitting here, touching me, pretending you weren’t soaking in my lap the whole time?”

Felix’s cheeks burned, his lashes lowered as his hand kept moving over Hyunjin’s cock, but uneven now, stuttering with every brush of Hyunjin’s fingers inside him. He shook his head weakly, unable to form words. His index dragged across Felix’s swollen rim, circling it lazily before pressing just enough to make Felix’s thighs tighten around his hips. “You’re dripping, Angel. I could slide into you right now without a single bit of prep,” He pointed out, spreading the slick across Felix’s rim before easing into it.

Felix’s head tipped back, a soft whine leaving him as his hips rocked instinctively. “Hyunjin—” His voice cracked, halfway between a moan and a complaint. “You always do this. You don’t let me—don’t let me just please you…” His hand faltered on Hyunjin’s cock, stroking unevenly as his body arched into the intrusion, helpless against the stretch.

Hyunjin kissed the corner of his lips, his finger crooking just right to pull another gasp from him before slipping a second in alongside the first. “That’s because,” He murmured, each word low and wrecked with restraint, “I like it better when both of us are feeling good. Not just me. Never just me.”

His finger curled inside him, brushing deep enough to make Felix gasp, a startled cry spilling from his throat. “But—“ His protest dissolved into another broken sound. Slick pooled over Hyunjin's knuckles, and Felix felt shame lock across his skin.

“You’re thanking me plenty,” Hyunjin said. “Every sound you make—every squeeze—just having you in my arms right now is enough. Just having me as your husband. His fingers drove the words home, pumping into Felix harder, deeper, curling until his body bowed against him.

Felix’s thighs clamped around his waist, trapping Hyunjin’s hand where it was, his slick dripping down his wrist. His whimpers turned helpless, his hand fisting into Hyunjin’s shirt as if he could anchor himself. “Hyunjin—please—” The syllables fell apart on his tongue, his hips rutting down on the intrusion without thought, chasing the burn, the fullness.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin whispered, sliding a third finger in. Felix cried out, muffling it against Hyunjin’s shoulder. Every thrust of Hyunjin’s fingers left him wetter, looser, the obscene sound of it filling the room. When Felix finally broke, sobbing his name into his neck, Hyunjin deemed it enough. He yanked Felix’s shorts to the side, and his cock slid against Felix’s slick hole, already aching, already dripping.

Felix barely had time to gasp before Hyunjin was pushing in—slow enough not to hurt him, but the stretch burned, the head popping inside with a squelch that made Hyunjin curse against his skin. “You’re perfect,” Hyunjin rasped, driving deeper, his free hand gripping Felix’s ass to guide him down inch by inch. Felix arched back, eyes glassy, lips parted around a broken moan as Hyunjin filled him to the hilt. He clenched tight around him, dragging another shudder from Hyunjin as he buried himself more, seated fully inside. “You wanted to thank me?” Hyunjin whispered against his mouth, thrusting up hard enough to make Felix jolt. “Then let me take you like this, Angel.”

—

Meanwhile, in the medical wing, another event was in the works. The office was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners where the candlelight failed to reach. Papers lay scattered across the desk, ink still drying on a half-finished report. The air carried the sharp tang of parchment and wax—broken only by the sudden thud of a book hitting the floor. Then came another sound—rhythmic, unsteady. A muted bang, the soft but relentless pounding of wood rattling beneath weight it wasn’t meant to hold.

And then—

“Aah. H-Hannie…”

The name tore from Minho’s throat, strangled and breathless. His chest pressed against the polished wood of his own desk, cheek turned to the side, eyes fluttering half-shut. His wrists were bound neatly behind his back with a length of silk cord, leaving him open and vulnerable. Every shift made the bindings bite just a little tighter into his skin, sending another shiver up his spine. Behind him, Han held him firmly in place, breath hot against the nape of his neck, every thrust making the desk creak in protest.

Jisung’s grin was wicked against the back of Minho’s neck. “I’m surprised you haven’t called it quits yet, hyung. You’ve already come twice—and you even knotted in my hand once.”

Minho let out a ragged, weak noise, wrists straining faintly against the cords binding them. His lips curved, a thin smile even as his body trembled. “And why would I?” He muttered, voice low, husky. “You were the one who came in here all needy, remember? Practically threw yourself at me before I could even look up from my papers.”

He swallowed, the memory flashing hot behind his eyes—Jisung shutting the door with a careless shove, crossing the office in three steps, his mouth crashing into his. The way the younger man had whispered against his lips, frantic and desperate: “Let me use you today, hyung. Please—just let me. I need to clear my head,”

Minho’s voice roughened, almost a growl. “So tell me—why would I stop, when you begged for this?”

Jisung’s hips stuttered, the words tumbling out of him almost like a plea. “Because you love me,” he said, breathless against Minho’s ear, his hands tightening on Minho’s hips. “That’s why—you let me. You take it. Because you love me.”

Minho exhaled sharply, a low laugh slipping through his teeth as his cheek pressed to the desk. “Exactly,” His voice was rough, strained, and laced with something fond that matched the heat in his eyes. “What alpha would let himself be bent over his own desk—if he didn’t love his mate?”

The word mate landed like a brand, hot and certain, searing through the haze between them. Minho’s lips curled faintly, even as his body trembled under Jisung’s grip. “So yes,” He rasped, “I love you. Enough to let you ruin me like this. Enough to want it again.”

At that, Jisung froze, Minho’s words still echoing—and oh, he loved when Minho said those words to him. His pupils blew wide, hunger clawing up his throat until it nearly choked him. He slammed back into Minho, pace rough, desperate, and Minho gasped, head dropping forward. His hole fluttered tight around Jisung, clenching as though trying to hold him deeper, but his voice broke through the frenzy, ragged and low. “S-Sungie—wait—” His voice shook, back arching hard. “A little s-slower—ah—We’re gonna knock down another thing——”

But Jisung didn’t slow. If anything, he surged harder, a fever in his veins, breath hot and ragged against Minho’s ear. His eyes were wild, pupils blown, and when Minho tried to twist his head back to plead again, Jisung pulled free with a slick drag. Before Minho could even form words, Jisung’s hands gripped his waist and lifted. “W-Wait—Ji—!” Minho’s yelp cracked into a sharp gasp as his feet left the ground. Instinct had him wrapping his legs tight around Jisung’s hips, his body clinging on desperately while his wrists strained against the bindings behind him. He was going to fall, he was going to—

Jisung shoved his back against the nearest shelf, the impact rattling wood and items inside, and sank back inside with a wet, brutal thrust that knocked the air out of Minho’s lungs. He shivered, lips gaping, quivering, with a whimper. Jisung’s pace only grew harsher, his body driving Minho into the rattling shelf, but then his mouth was crashing against Minho’s. It wasn’t gentle—nothing about it was. His lips bruised, his tongue forcing its way in, licking deep before sucking hard on Minho’s tongue like he needed to devour every sound he made.

“Sorry,” Jisung groaned against the messy kiss, the words broken, wet between gasps and licks. “I can’t go slower. I—ah—I’ll finish soon, I promise.” His teeth grazed Minho’s lower lip, tugging it before diving back in, swallowing Minho’s voice with another searing, sloppy kiss. One hand shifted to cup the back of Minho’s thigh, spreading him open wider as Jisung drove up into him, his voice rasping against Minho’s mouth. “Min, I wish I could fuck you full. Breed you till you’re swollen—“ His breath hitched. “But it’s too bad, isn’t it?”

Minho pulled away with a hard bite to Jisung’s lip, nails digging into the younger’s shoulders. His voice cut through Jisung’s filth-ridden whispers, hoarse but commanding, “Don’t forget, Jisung.” His thighs clenched tight around Jisung’s waist, forcing him deeper, and his head tipped back with a hiss. “You might be fucking me,” Minho growled, lips curling, “but I’m still your alpha—you don’t get to dream otherwise.”

Jisung shuddered at the words, hips faltering for a heartbeat. “Baby...” The word spilled out hoarse, cracked, nothing like the confident rasp he’d carried moments before. His forehead pressed against Minho’s collarbone, his hips still moving but smaller, almost pleading thrusts now, rutting into him. “I—” His breath caught, chest heaving. “You’re right. I just—fuck,” Jisung’s voice broke apart in Minho’s arms, every thrust of his hips turning frantic and sloppy, more plea than rhythm now. His nails dug into Minho’s waist, teeth grazing his throat as if he could mark him there. And he could. And Minho would let him again. And again. And again. And—

Minho’s breath stuttered as he ground down against Jisung, wringing every ounce of desperation out of him. “I’m close, cum with me,” He rasped, his lips brushing Jisung’s ear, his voice low, coaxing, commanding. “Inside.”

And that was all it took.

The words undid them both. Minho’s body seized, trembling, while Jisung’s thrusts grew erratic, his whole frame bowing forward as he spilled inside, undone and clinging desperately to the man who’d just broken and rebuilt him in the same breath. For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing, their bodies pressed together, still trembling with aftershocks. Jisung nuzzled into Minho’s throat, kissing the damp skin there like he couldn’t bear to let go.

Minho let out a shaky laugh, his voice still rough but laced with warmth. “Finally feeling better, huh?” His fingers threaded lazily through Jisung’s hair, tugging just enough to lift his head. Their eyes met, and Minho smirked faintly, though his cheeks were still flushed. “Good. Because if you are, you’re carrying me to the showers.” He glanced toward the papers scattered, the desk still slick with the mess they’d left behind, and arched a brow. “And cleaning this…disaster…up after.”

Jisung groaned, but his arms tightened around Minho all the same, already pulling him close like he had no intention of letting him go just yet.

—

The castle was completely still an hour later, its halls quiet beneath the hush of winter outside. Hyunjin lay back against the pillows, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting around Felix’s waist where he slept curled against his side. Felix’s breathing was soft and steady, his hair still faintly damp from their earlier wipe down and change into fresh clothes. The faint moonlight spilling in through the curtains caught the curve of his cheek, the rise and fall of his chest, the little furrow in his brows that hadn’t yet eased even in sleep.

Hyunjin glanced down at him, lips parting with something quiet, reverent. His thumb brushed gently along Felix’s side, slow and steady, like he could smooth away every trace of anxiety still clinging to him.

And he could.

And he would.

Chapter Text

The palace library was one of Artevmia's quietest treasures—a towering space of pale stone and dark oak, three floors stacked high with spiral staircases curling toward the vaulted ceiling. Every wall was bordered with wide windows that overlooked the castle gardens, their frost gathering against them painting the room in silver-blue shadows. The lamps inside were dim, casting pools of amber light across the rows of books and the carved railings above. Jiho traced his fingers along the spines as he walked, eyes skimming royal titles in languages long dead.

Even for someone from the mage tower, the sheer access here was enviable. Artevmia housed scrolls he'd only ever heard whispered about—banned research, bloodline chronicles, historical codices that could ruin reputations if read by the wrong servant. He paused by one of the tall windows, looking out over the garden below, where snow had glazed every leaf and vine. His reflection stared back faintly in the glass—calm, unreadable, but beneath it, the thoughts stirring weren't nearly as composed.

Felix's face flashed in his mind. The tremor in his voice when he'd confronted him, the accusation in his eyes. Jiho's jaw tightened. He'd told him the truth—finally, after all these years—and that's how Felix reacted? Like he was a monster?

Ungrateful.

After everything he'd done to protect him, to keep him content, to make sure no one else ever used that power against him. Felix had been born fragile, blind to how dangerous he really was, and Jiho had carried that burden for him. Nurtured it. Controlled it when no one else could. Now, watching him run to that cursed prince like some lovesick fool... it made his mouth fill with something bitter. He turned from the window and began walking again. The air was cold here, but it wasn't the draft that made him shiver—it was the thought that Felix had forgotten who first kept him safe. The thought that—

Has Felix told Hyunjin everything by now?

For a moment, the thought almost amused him. Hyunjin—so self-righteous, so easily provoked. Jiho could already imagine his expression when Felix had told him everything about what happened years ago. The fury. The judgment. The way Hyunjin would look at him like he was filth tomorrow.

Jiho exhaled through his nose, a small, humorless sound. "Let him," he muttered to himself. "Let him tell him."

Because even if Hyunjin knew—what then? What could he possibly do? There was no fixing what had already been done. He had shaped Felix into what he was now, for better or worse. Every wound, every fear, every thread of obedience stitched into him had his mark. That kind of control wasn't undone by a few comforting words or tender gestures.

He may hate him now, but that was fine. Hatred was still a kind of tether. And Felix had always needed someone to hold the leash. Felix didn't belong with someone like Hyunjin—he needed stability, discipline, someone who understood his power and the danger he posed. Someone who cares for him. And whether Felix liked it or not, he had always been that person. Jiho's thumb traced idle circles along the corner of an open page, eyes narrowing. The words on the paper blurred, each one he skimmed over easily forgotten.

A frown suddenly creased his brow as another thought came to him. Something had been off since his arrival at Artevmia, though it had taken him days to realize what. Felix had stood before them that first evening—composed, smiling even. But that wasn't right. Not with the timing. Not with how his body worked.

By now, Felix should've been deep in heat.

Jiho knew his cycles by heart—the quiet countdowns, the subtle shifts, the way Felix's composure always crumbled at the edges before it hit. He'd memorized every phase because someone had to. Felix was a disaster when it came—fragile, flushed, pliant, all soft nerves and trembling apologies. He'd barricade himself in his room for days, shaking through the fever until it broke. But this time? Nothing. No exhaustion in his eyes, no clinging sweetness in his scent, no trace of the chaos that should've been there. Felix stood tall, steady. Cold.

Something wasn't right.

Had someone tampered with his body's rhythm—dulled it, suppressed it? Or had it already come and gone, quietly, without him? Or worse—had Hyunjin touched him? Jiho's breath caught, then released in a quiet, bitter laugh. No. Impossible. Felix hadn't been marked. Jiho would've sensed it instantly—the faint pulse of ownership that comes with a bond like that. There was no such tether on him yet.

Yet.

Still, if it happened...if Hyunjin ever dared, Jiho would tear it out himself, claw it from his skin if he had to. Because whatever they paraded around as love, it wasn't real. Felix didn't love Hyunjin—couldn't. He was just running, grasping for something softer, something that didn't demand he face what he really was. Hyunjin wasn't a lover. He was a refuge. A temporary one.

And Jiho had no intention of letting Felix stay hidden there forever.

Leaving the library, he began walking down the corridor to where his room was. It was almost dead silent at this time of night, save for the occasional night shift workers coming by to prepare for the morning. Turning around the corner, he noticed something new among the usual sights. A small shape, pale against the darkness.

At first, he thought it was a scrap of cloth or lace dropped by one of the maids, but then it moved. A tiny white kitten sat before him, tail wrapped neatly around its paws, watching him. Its fur looked freshly fallen, too pristine for a stray, and its eyes—an wide, pearl-like black—seemed to sparkle faintly even in the low light. "Did someone's pet wander off?" he muttered under his breath. Still, curiosity got the better of him. He's never known a royal family to have a pet in the castle, yet alone one as useless and lazy as a cat. He crouched down, extending his hand. "Come here, little one. You'll freeze out here."

It hesitated, then padded forward with soundless steps, brushing its head against his fingers. Its fur was silky-soft, warm even through the chill of the hallway. Jiho's lips twitched into a faint, reluctant smile. "Not afraid of people, are you?" He murmured. "Maybe I'll—"

Pain shot through his hand before he could finish.

The kitten's teeth sank deep into the soft flesh between his thumb and forefinger, sharp enough to draw an instant line of blood. "Ah—shit!" Jiho hissed, jerking his arm back. The animal clung on for a heartbeat too long before releasing him, landing gracefully on the floor with its back arched and tail flicking lazily.

He clutched his hand, blood already dripping to the marble below, dark against the pale stone. "What the hell—"

But the words faltered when the pain changed. The punctures began to bubble, small fizzing blisters rising around the wounds as if something beneath the skin was burning its way out. His stomach lurched. A wave of nausea climbed up his throat, dizzying and sudden. "What...the fuck..." He staggered against the nearest wall, trying to steady his breathing, eyes darting to where the kitten had stood—but the space was empty. The corridor stretched ahead, silent and bare, not even a scratch of fur or shadow left behind.

In another moment, his vision flickered in and out of focus. Jiho pressed his back to the wall, staring down at his shaking hand. The veins around the wound looked darker—tainted, spreading slowly beneath the surface of his skin. "Poison," He muttered under his breath, his pulse thrumming in his ears. "It's got to be—" He lifted his injured hand, forcing his focus through the fog gathering around his mind. Energy gathered at his fingertips, a faint shimmer of green. The healing spell took form easily—muscle memory from years at the Tower—but the moment the magic touched the wound, it hissed.

His stomach clenched as the poison pushed back, swallowing the magic whole and feeding on it. Jiho grit his teeth and poured more energy in, but the more he tried, the faster it spread, threading up beneath his wrist and to his forearm. Unable to take it anymore, his eyes rolled back, the strength in his knees giving out all at once. The corridor swam before him—walls stretching and bending, torches warping into streaks of light.

His fingers twitched once, a final attempt to strengthen the spell, to do something, but his magic sputtered uselessly—consumed the instant it left him. The air around him warped, rippling faintly with leftover power as his body convulsed. A choked noise escaped him, and his body hit the cold stone floor with a dull thud, his breath stuttering out in shallow bursts.

The faint echo of a laugh drifted by—something feminine, mocking how pathetic he looked. The sound of heels against marble came close, each step reverberating through the empty hall, and the closer they got, the more he felt dread coil tight in his gut. Was it another mage, a guard? Through the blur clouding his vision, he saw a shape take form. A woman—or something wearing the guise of one. Her hair spilled past her lower back in a cascade of silver-white, too luminous against the darkness gathering around her. From her temples jutted two sharp, curved points—neither horn nor bone, but something between, pulsing faintly with light. And her body—what little was visible—looked almost wrong. From the base of her feet to the curve of her neck, her skin was swallowed by shifting blackness, as though shadow itself had fused with her flesh. It moved when she moved, warping across her pale collarbones. What clothing she wore seemed to melt into it all the same, the illusion of a dress clinging to her form and fading where it met bare, human skin. Once she was close enough, her eyes flicked down at Jiho's crumpled body, the corners of her lips curving with mild disappointment.

"So this is the mage who's caused such grief?" She crouched, reaching a clawed fingertip toward him. She aimed for the soft hollow of his throat—an easy, efficient strike—but the moment her clawed fingertip pierced the barrier in his skin, something flared to life around Jiho. A barrier of pale runes raced up his arms and across his chest, etching their way into the air itself before slamming outward in a single blinding surge. The runes wrapped around her wrists like living chains, glowing white before bleeding into a sickly green once they touched her skin.

Her claws twitched, her eyes widening in confusion—then horror. The poison in Jiho was reversing—rejecting its host. Every thread of corruption that had spread through his bloodstream was suddenly yanked back, like a tide rushing in reverse—redirecting it. She gasped, and her voice broke off into a strangled sound as the magic completed its mark.

Black veins marbled her neck and face, her beautiful composure shattering as her body convulsed. Blood spilled from her lips in thick, tar-like ribbons that hissed when they hit the floor, steaming against the cold tile. She forced a guttural sound through clenched teeth, claws digging into her own arms as she fought to contain it.

She rose to her feet and stumbled back a step, gripping the wall, her claws scraping deep gouges into the marble. The world around her flickered, vision tunneling as she forced herself to stand upright. Her gaze dropped to Jiho's half-conscious form, the faint shimmer of divine wards still flickering around his body. A flicker of frustration crossed her expression—she had underestimated him. "You're lucky," She muttered, her tone curling into something like a snarl. "If I had my full strength...you'd already be dead."

Jiho let out a bitter laugh at her words, trying to make out her face. "And who are you to determine that?" He picked up his head, narrowing his eyes to try and make out her appearance further, but it was useless. Even half-conscious, he felt the pulse of his protective magic beneath his skin—the ancient safeguard that transformed harm into justice, pain into retribution. The curse didn't merely return what it received; it magnified it, amplifying suffering until it consumed its own source. "Who sent you?" He demanded, voice hoarse but firm. "And how the hell did you get through the castle walls?"

She tilted her head, the corner of her lips twitching with amusement—or was it mockery? She didn't answer. Instead, her gaze sharpened, burning through him. "I don't answer to humans like you."

Before he could say something else, she melted away, leaving nothing but the faint scent of ozone and something darker beneath it. "But...I'll be back," her voice echoed, distant yet lingering, like a promise—and a threat. Jiho gritted his teeth, the wards around him flickering as he forced himself upright, every instinct screaming that this was far from over.

—-.—-

The next morning, Felix lay sprawled across the bed, one arm tucked beneath the pillow, the other draped over the covers, his hair a halo of gold against the white linen. Hyunjin, already dressed save for the last few buttons of his shirt, watched him for a moment from the wardrobe mirror. A small, private smile ghosted across his face as he finished fastening the cuffs and crossed the distance between them. He sat down at the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb him too harshly, and brushed a few strands of hair away from Felix's forehead. "You'll sleep through the whole morning again at this rate," He murmured, voice low, fond.

Leaning down, Hyunjin pressed a soft kiss to his lips—light, lingering, almost reverent.

Felix stirred immediately. His lashes fluttered, a faint hum escaping him as his brows drew together. For a heartbeat, he looked dazed, caught between sleep and waking. Then his lips parted in a tiny breath, and he whispered, voice thick with drowsiness. Before Felix could properly form his name to greet him, Hyunjin's hand came up to cup his cheek, thumb tracing the curve of his jaw with a tenderness that made his pulse skip. Then Hyunjin leaned down once more for another kiss—or kisses, coaxing Felix further from sleep.

His lips parted instinctively under the gentle pressure, a quiet sound slipping from his throat as Hyunjin's tongue brushed his own. The fog of drowsiness melted away in seconds, replaced by the warmth of the other's mouth and the steady thrum of his heartbeat against his chest. Felix's fingers flexed against the sheets before reaching up, finding Hyunjin's collar and tugging weakly, pulling him closer. Hyunjin obliged, tilting his head to deepen the kiss even more, his thumb still stroking lazy circles against Felix's skin until the boy finally breathed out a small, shivering sigh—awake now, completely.

Only then did Hyunjin pull back, just far enough to look at him—eyes half-lidded, lips kiss-swollen, breath uneven. A faint smile ghosted across his mouth before he murmured, "Goodmorning, Angel."

Felix blinked blearily, a small, sleepy smile tugging at his lips. "Morning..." He murmured, face reddening, voice hoarse from sleep. "You're up early again. I was going to—"

But then the words caught in his throat. His gaze shifted past Hyunjin's shoulder, locking onto something small and white on the floor behind him. For a second, he thought his sleepy mind was playing tricks on him, but when the thing moved—tail flicking, ears twitching—his breath hitched. Hyunjin noticed the sudden pause and followed his gaze over his shoulder. When his eyes landed on the fluffy white cat sitting primly in the middle of their room, his entire body flinched. "When did a cat get in here?"

Felix pushed himself upright, the blanket pooling at his waist as he rubbed at his eyes. His eyes widened as recognition struck, all traces of sleep vanishing from his face. "Vireya...?" The cat's ears twitched at the sound of its name. It lifted its head, unblinking black eyes fixing on Felix. Felix threw the blanket aside and scrambled to his feet, bare toes sinking into the soft rug as he rushed toward the white bundle of fur. "Wait—don't move," he breathed, but as soon as he straightened, a sharp ache flared through his hip, the kind that made his breath catch. He froze mid-stride, his hand flying to his side, heat crawling up his neck as the memory of why he was sore hit him all at once.

Behind him, Hyunjin's brows furrowed. He started to rise, half-concerned, half-confused. "Felix?"

"I'm fine," Felix said quickly, though his voice betrayed a faint waver. He took another careful step forward, ignoring Hyunjin's curious stare, his eyes fixed on the cat. "It's alright, I know her."

Hyunjin blinked. "Know her?" He repeated, his tone cautious. "Felix, what do you mean you know her? The cat? That thing wasn't here when we went to bed, nor when I woke up this morning."

"She's...uh," Felix crouched slowly, lowering himself to the floor carefully. "She's not exactly a cat, but that's how she presents herself. She's a witch tied to the gods. Her name is Vireya. I met her in the forest that time I...disappeared."

Hyunjin's gaze flicked between Felix and the cat, suspicion sharp beneath the softness in his voice. "In the forest with the other demonic monsters?"

Felix gave a faint nod, inching forward, his expression easing into one of quiet fondness. "She's one of the friendlier ones, I promise, though I accidentally summoned her—and now she helps me. She—" The moment his fingers brushed through her fur, everything shifted.

It hit him like a plunge into ice water—his breath stuttering, his chest tightening as something unseen pulled hard at the center of his being. It wasn't pain at first, not exactly—it was draining, a sudden hollowing that left him dizzy. The warmth fled from his fingertips, replaced by a cold so deep it felt like frostbite. Felix swayed where he knelt, his vision dimming at the edges. He tried to pull his hand back, but a thread of power crackled between them, holding him there.

Hyunjin crouched beside him with alarm. "Felix—what is it?" His hand hovered near Felix's back, uncertain whether to touch him or not, his instincts screaming to pull him away from the cat.

Felix's breath came shallow, uneven, but he managed to grit out "It's...fine," his voice steady enough to sound convincing. "This isn't the first time, it's normal. She needs my energy to stay here—to exist physically."

Hyunjin's jaw tightened. "Normal?" He echoed. "You call this normal?"

"It's just—" Felix winced, the word cutting off in a shudder. The cold inside him deepened, spreading up his arms, a faint fog threading behind his eyes. He tried to focus, but it was hard when everything felt so far away. "—she's taking more than I expected," He said, though shortly, the invisible thread that had bound their energy loosening until it was just a dull hum. Felix slumped backward against Hyunjin, and a faint tremor ran through his body as warmth started to seep back into his skin, his color returning in slow waves.

"And how does this benefit you—" Hyunjin pondered. "keeping something here that shouldn't even be in this world?" His tone wasn't accusing, only cautious. "You look drained after touching her, Angel. If this is the cost of having her around, I need to know if it's worth it. Why—"

"Because I can protect him." A soft vibration filled the space—a resonance that wasn't quite sound but pressed against the inside of his skull. Then, Vireya's voice, faint but clear, slid through the air.

Hyunjin froze. The words weren't heard so much as felt, echoing deep, layered—half in his mind, half in the space around them. His eyes darted toward the cat. "Protect him?" He repeated, his voice cutting quieter, rougher.

"Yes, as extra support. You may be able to protect his body," She said softly, "but there are forces that don't strike flesh. That seep through dreams, memories, magic—forces you cannot touch. I was born to guard his kind from that." Her feline-like gaze traveled toward Felix. "Last night...I took it upon myself to test that mage you've been so worried about. I tried to poison him—cleanly. A warning, not too lethal. But in doing so I found out a protection spell has been cast upon him—one not of his own making. When I struck, it reflected the damage back. My own venom turned on me, and so I figured that whatever ward shields him, it mirrors the same harm back on whoever inflicted it, magnified."

Felix's heart sank, his voice cracking as he leaned closer. "Then that's why you took so much energy from me."

"Yes," Vireya admitted. "As you know I'm still weak. Taking from you little by little each day yields me enough power to roam around in this form—yet not enough to maintain my complete form. His magic weakened me and burned through what little I had left. I barely mustered enough energy to retreat before it consumed me entirely. That mage—" her tone sharpened, a glint of venom lacing her words "—he carries a spell too strong for a mere human to wield."

Felix's fingers curled against his knees. "Then what should we do? Is there a way to still—"