Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It hurts. It really hurts. Damn it. Why does it hurt so much? And why do I feel so relieved?

The newest crowned Demon King knelt on the cliff, clutching at the wound in his chest. His executioner stood over him. Dokja didn’t want to know what his expression was like, but he looked up anyway. And damn it, would it have hurt the man to at least look a little bit tired? He couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s not fair at all. Asshole. You could have at least had the decency to pretend that it was a hard fight.”

The guy didn't say anything. Dokja thought he maybe saw his eyebrow twitch, and did his lip curl? Was that supposed to be a smile? Dokja’s smile turned bitter, and he turned his gaze out across the land as the stars faded and the sun came up over the mountains. 

“If I could do it all over again, I think I’d have liked to be a gardener. Look how dull it is up here. I would have liked to bring some life to it.”

As the pool around him grew, his consciousness left him. His breath came slower, and his field of vision shrank. As his last breath left him, he took one last look at Yoo Joonghyuk.

“You ruined my coat.”

Chapter Text

The first thing Dokja noticed was the light. His hand lazily moved to block the sun, and then he noticed his bracelet. The same bracelet he had lost during the fight with the duke? He quickly spun around. No coat! His coat was safe!

“...and for goodness sake I am NOT SHORT!”

The tiny woman glared up at him from her spot to his left. He cocked his head to the side. The last time he had seen Sooyoung, she had been crying in his arms, his sword through her stomach. 

“Sooyoung?

 She raised an eyebrow and put one hand on her hip, using the other to smack the back of his head. This was very difficult for her to do, as she had to tiptoe to reach him. “What the hell do you want? Were you even listening to me?”

“I wasn't before, but I am now.”

“Damn right you are. And I’ll hit you again if you keep ignoring me.”

“Whatever you say, midget.”

Dokja was glad he didn’t get to hear Sooyoung’s response as a loud voice rang through the clearing. A dokkaebi with white fur and two yellow horns on his head was rushing towards them. Dokja and Sooyoung immediately fell into line with the few other candidates that remained. 

“ARE YOU GUYS HERE TO AUDITION FOR THE CIRCUS? SHUT UP AND GET IN LINE OR YOU’LL BE BOOTED OUT OF THE COMPETITION!” 

It was finally hitting Dokja just where he was. Or more importantly, when he was. Excitement was buzzing through him. He was no longer the 73rd Demon King, he was just another candidate. Again. Dokja supposed that if he could accept that he’d been transported to another world entirely, it wasn’t too much of a stretch to believe that he had gone back in time. The only question left then was, was he the only one?

“Congratulations you bunch of buffoons, you’ve made it to the last challenge. I hope none of you have made friends yet, because all but one of you are about to die.”

Sooyoung took a step back, but Dokja grabbed her arm. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmured. “You won’t die on my watch.”

She scowled and wrenched her arm out of his grasp. “You make it sound like you’re so sure you’ll be the one winning, you arrogant bastard. Just you wait, I’ll beat your ass easily.” Dokja smiled lightly, and turned back to the dokkaebi.

“In this challenge, you’ll be going up against each other in a series of duels. We’ll use the bracket strategy that the humans are so fond of. Whoever wins the duel will move up.” The dokkaebi snapped his fingers, and a giant chalkboard appeared with the pairings already written. “What are you all standing around for? These are your pairings, so hurry up! We only have a couple of hours until the demon king needs to be crowned!”

After inspecting the chalkboard, Sooyoung turned to Dokja with a worried grin on her face. “We’re on opposite sides of the bracket, so I’ll see you in the finals.  It would be an honor to be the one to kill you - If you don’t slip up and let someone else kill you first.” Dokja had a feeling she was serious. He smiled back, his gaze only drifting from the dokkaebi for a second. They shook hands, then went off.

As the afternoon turned to evening, the names on the chalkboard magically moved up as bodies littered the field. All the names moved up, except for two – Dokja and his opponent. Their swords clashed, and Dokja twisted away once more, leading the other contestant on a rather time-consuming chase. He could practically hear Sooyoung berating him from where she stood watching. Finally, the dokkaebi appeared, eyes turning red as he took in the sight. 

“Stop dragging it out! Just kill him already!”

Dokja sighed, turning quickly and slicing his sword across his opponents legs. When he dropped, Dokja looked up at the dokkaebi as he slit the man’s throat. “Let’s get on with it then,” he said in a soft voice. “Who’s my next opponent?”

The next few matches went by similarly. Dokja would make each match last as long as possible, only killing the other contestants when commanded to by the dokkaebi. So by the time the last man fell, the evening was growing soft and quiet. The sunlight was waning quickly, and the dokkaebi grew frantic as it left. Across the clearing, only one person remained. Sooyoung. He had known it would be her, but still, he was relieved to see that she was uninjured and just as insufferable as always.

In his past life, these were his last moments with her. It had happened so quickly. They had blazed through the brackets, almost hoping the other would die before they met each other in the finals. But they hadn’t been that lucky. This time though, it would be different. He had thought of another way. He just wished he had thought of it before. Would things have been different then? If he had fought harder to save her?

He shook his head. There was no time to think about the past. If he wasn’t careful, Sooyoung would kill him. He swung his sword out, saluting her. She did the same. The dokkaebi rolled his eyes. “GET ON WITH IT!” 

Sooyoung rushed forward.

It was over in seconds. 

Sooyoung’s sword fell to the ground and Dokja twisted her arm behind her back, putting his sword to her throat. She was struggling, it was much harder than he had anticipated to keep her restrained. “Stop moving so much,” he muttered, then pointed his blade toward the dokkaebi. 

“You! What’s your name?”

“Me? I’m Bihyung. Now get on with it.”

“Bihyung. Wonderful to meet you. As you can see, I’ve won this round. I’d like you to crown me now.” 

The dokkaebi’s frown deepened. “That’s not how it works, you have to kill her.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to make demands. You need a demon king, and you’re running out of time. I have her on the ground, I could have killed her seven times over by now. I win. Now crown me.”

The dokkaebi hesitated, watching the sun fall out of the corner of his eye. 

“Well? What are you gonna do, kill us both? Crown her instead of me? That wouldn’t be following the rules either. Face it, you have no other options. And if you keep me waiting, you’ll be in a world of pain when I finally get my crown.”

Frustrated and at a loss, the dokkaebi let out a long growl, ruffling the fur on his head with his claws. He snapped his fingers, materializing the crown. He went to place it on Dokja’s head, but hesitated. “You won’t kill me after I put this on you, right?”

Dokja just smiled. “I definitely will if you don’t.”

The dokkaebi put the crown on Dokja’s head, seemingly resigned to his fate. With a sigh, he transported Dokja and Sooyoung to the steps of the castle, where thousands of people were waiting.

“Behold the 73rd Demon King!”

Chapter Text

“You ruined my coat”

The 73rd Demon King fell limp, the snow around him stained red. Finally. Joonghyuk could move on to other things. It frustrated him that he had needed to wait for so long, just for this. The fight had been short. The Demon King hadn’t stood a chance. 

He turned, ready to trek back to his manor, when light exploded from behind him. He spun around just in time to see the Demon King’s body glowing with divine light before it…disappeared? But the light stayed, and it grew brighter and brighter until Joonghyuk could see nothing else. He fell to his knees, it burned . And then it vanished. 

When Joonghyuk opened his eyes, he was in the temple. 

“When the 73rd Demon King rises from the darkened depths,

And with the Duke, stands on the eternal brink,

The world shall hold its breath.

Bound by a fate neither can escape,

In their hands, life and death are but threads,

And the world will bend to the will of their union or their fall.”

Immediately, he looked up, confused. How did he get here? And why was he hearing the prophecy he had received 3 years ago? The priest left, but Joonghyuk stayed on his knees, consumed by his thoughts. Then he stood. And walked home. 

He managed to keep up the facade until he reached his chambers. But once the door closed behind him, his manufactured calm dissolved. Seolhwa had not been in her room. Mia looked like she was 7 again. Jihye was nowhere to be found, when usually she was glued to his side. He ran a hand through his hair, and was less than pleased when he found he was shaking. There was no ring on his finger. Had he lost it in the fight? No. He remembered how it pressed against the hilt of his sword as he fought. Was he dead somehow? Was this supposed to be hell? An endless cycle of rebirths, living his life with the same mistakes over and over? But no. There had to be a reason he had been returned to the moment of the prophecy. Maybe he had missed something. Some hidden meaning or prerequisite. 

Joonghyuk clasped his hands together, trying to stop the tremors. He was fine. If anything, he should be glad. He could do things differently this time. Better.

Chapter Text

In Dokja’s last life, the first year as a Demon King had all been a blur. He didn’t do anything except sit on his throne. The silence that was born after he killed Sooyoung had followed him like a cheetah stalking a gazelle. It was always there, pressing down on him, even when thousands of voices filled the halls. A weight he desperately wanted to escape. It was killing him. Maybe, in the end, it did kill him. 

Dokja strode down the hall, Sooyoung by his side and Bihyung floating a few inches above them in the air. He knew he should be paying attention, Bihyung was supposedly filling him in on the staff required to run the castle. But he could always ask the dokkaebi to repeat himself later, he supposed. At the moment his mind was more than occupied trying to puzzle out the past. He didn’t understand it, looking back. Why had he killed Sooyoung, only to fail as a Demon King entirely? Why had he even wanted to be a Demon King in the first place? It took more control than he would like to keep from begging present Sooyoung for forgiveness. For stealing her dream. For squandering it. 

The thing that had brought him out of the haze was the prophecy. Dokja’s spymaster, Han Donghoon, had intercepted a message from the North that was meant for the Capital. After decoding it, he had found the prophecy and the Duke of the North’s plans to fulfill it. Dokja, who was not the evil murderous Demon King they thought he was for obvious reasons, finally felt as though he had found a purpose. To save the world, he needed to die. That was something he was more than willing to do. 

But not anymore. Circumstances had changed. He had died, and now he was here again. It seemed reasonable to Dokja to assume that meant that the prophecy had not been fulfilled in some way. The answer hadn’t been to die, and so Dokja had needed to figure out something else. And he had known precisely where to start. His hand still ached from all the letters he’d written. Hopefully they paid off soon. 

“Bihyung. Is there a courtyard around here?” Dokja knew for a fact that there was, but that would be an odd thing to know when he hadn’t even finished touring the castle yet.

“What- YES!!! IF you were paying ANY amount of attention to what I’ve been saying, you would know that already!”

Sooyoung scoffed and hit his shoulder for good measure.

“Wonderful. Let’s go there. I want to start a garden.”

Sooyoung scowled. “Planning to open a flower shop, are we?” Her voice was monotone. “Didn’t want to do that before becoming a Demon King? All that effort to get crowned, for a garden?”

Dokja smiled while he followed Bihyung to the courtyard. “Well I couldn’t let you become Demon King, that would’ve been a disaster.”

Sooyoung threw up her hands and began cursing him out, but Dokja tuned it out as they entered the courtyard. The weeds and barren trees looked rather out of place in the bright sunlight, but Dokja was sure that he’d be able to make something grow. It was as they were walking around the courtyard that a figure melted out of the shadow of a tree behind them. No one even noticed he was there until he spoke.

“My lord, may I have a word?”

 Sooyoung screeched, her hand going to her dagger. “What the hell?! At least let us know when you’re coming!”

The boy reached up to take his hood off, revealing black hair and a pair of dark eyes. Donghoon. The same person who had informed him of the prophecy in his past life. Even as they were neglected and left without orders, some of his underlings were still loyal. Donghoon being the most so. Dokja wondered why that was. Whatever the reason, he made a silent vow to himself to give more of his time to his followers.

“Donghoon. Of course.”

The boy’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly before he moved on. “A couple of knights with the North’s emblem were seen sneaking around the castle grounds. We’ve identified them as Lee Hyunsung, Jung Heewon, and Yoo Sangah.” 

Dokja blinked slowly. Those names were familiar. Where had he heard them before?

“They have been rising through the ranks of Duke Joonghyuk’s army at alarming speed. As they’re being promoted soon, they’re most likely trying to gather intel on you. The reasons for that are still being discussed.”

Ah. That was it. In his past life, those three had become the Duke’s most elite soldiers. They, along with the Duke, had been responsible for the siege on the castle, mere days before his death. Dokja hummed lowly. But why were they poking around so soon? He’d barely been crowned a week ago. No figure of any importance should be remotely concerned with a Demon King whose only been present for a week. More importantly, this hadn’t happened in his first life. Why had things changed? Could his saving Sooyoung have really already impacted the timeline at this level? Or was it possible that one of them had returned, as he had?

“...What would you have me do, My Lord?” Donghoon shifted on his feet, uneasy with the silence, and being out in the open for so long.

“Take them to the dining hall. It's past noon, they must be starving.” Donghoon hesitated for a second before bowing and turning to carry out the order.

Sooyoung stared at him like he was insane. “You’re going to let the people looking for information on you just walk in? And you’re going to FEED them?”

Dokja glanced at her. “You’ll understand in time.”

Sooyoung groaned, and glared. As was her way.

Dokja clapped his hands together. “Well. I’d better go greet our guests. Are you coming?”

Rolling her eyes and muttering curses, Sooyoung followed him to the dining hall.

They arrived to the scene of an altercation. Dokja’s men barred entry to the hall, demanding that the three knights turn over their weapons before entering. This, obviously, was not going over very well, and was going to have the opposite effect Dokja wanted it to if it continued. “Namwoon. Shut your mouth and let our guests in. Who in their right mind would enter a Demon King’s castle without their weapons? Now they’re going to think it’s a trap.”

One of the women stepped forward. She had long dark hair secured in a bun, with a shortsword at her waist and a determined expression on her face.  “Of course we think it’s a trap. Why would you invite us in if you knew we were looking for information on you?”

Sooyoung just crossed her arms and glared, as if it was an insult to think that they would stoop so low. Dokja, after recognizing the knight to be Jung Heewon, took a step to the side to get between Sooyoung’s glare and the three knights and smiled lightly. 

“If you’re taking information back with you, it should at least be accurate. You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to. We have plenty of empty rooms if you’d like to stay for a while. You can explore as you like and ask me as many questions as you wish. My men will stay out of your way. If they don’t, ” He cuts off and gives Namwoon a sharp look “Please inform me or my advisor immediately and we will take care of it. All I ask in return is that you give the Duke an honest report at the end of your stay.”

The knights standing behind Heewon shared a worried glance, but Heewon just stared at Dokja. She nodded her head. “Thank you for your hospitality, but we’ll be leaving now.”

Dokja nodded and waved as they left the hall. “Come back anytime you like.”

Chapter Text

“Master, wait for me! You told me you’d teach me how to do that cool sword swoosh thing you showed me!”

Shaking his head, Joonghyuk simply sped up, turning abruptly into his study and closing the door in Jihye’s face with a murmured, “Later.” 

The day’s post was stacked neatly on the desk, waiting to be read. One of his meetings had been canceled, allowing him to escape the watchful eye of Namgung Minyoung just long enough to see if there was any word from the trio of knights he’d sent to watch the new Demon King. His hand ached from all the documents he’d written, revised, and signed. He didn’t know how he’d been able to manage it in his first life – at least this time around he knew which proposals would work out and which to ignore. 

Joonghyuk sorted through the pile, and was relieved to find that Sangah had, in fact, sent word. She didn’t have much to say, except that they had been found out almost immediately, and that the Demon King had been surprisingly accommodating. That was…odd. 

He didn’t have long to think it over, because just then there was a knock at the door. Joonghyuk hadn’t even taken a step toward the door when it swung open, revealing a scowling Minyoung – almost taller than the doorframe – and little Mia holding her hand. Joonghyuk set the letter down gently, holding out his arms as Mia ran toward him. He picked her up, then silently turned to face his mentor. She sighed. “Don’t bother coming back to the office today. I suppose a prodigy like you deserves a day off every once in a while, or I’d soon run out of things to teach you.” Mia giggled when the half-giant shook the door frame as she closed the door

Suddenly, small hands grabbed either side of Joonghyuk’s face. “Oppa! Play with me!” The corner of his mouth curled upwards, a rare smile forming. He set her down and ruffled her hair.

“Play what?”

“Tag! You won’t ever be able to catch me!” Giggling, Mia ran to the door, reached up to grab the handle, and opened the door. Joonghyuk waited until he heard her footsteps fading down the hall before he started after her. They went all over the manor, passing by an assortment of staff on the way, all of whom knew better than to comment on the scene the siblings were causing. The game only stopped when Mia turned too quickly around a corner and tumbled into Seolhwa. Stumbling back, Seolhwa quickly grabbed Mia to steady her, a warm smile on her face. 

“Careful.” Mia looked up at her and started laughing. 

“Sorry Seolhwa-unni! I’ll go slower next time.” She turned to look at her brother, “Maybe then oppa will be able to catch me.” Seolhwa gave a soft laugh.

At the sight of the silver-haired woman, Joonghyuk instinctively went to fidget with his ring. The ring that wasn’t there. In his past life, Joonghyuk had met with the King and the other Dukes to discuss the prophecy, and somehow they had decided that in order to fulfill it, he needed to marry Princess Seolhwa. At the time, he hadn’t been in a position to refuse. Joonghyuk had just become Duke, and he needed his position to be stable. And what could be more stabilizing than marrying the daughter of the King? This time around, however, he knew better. He had not let himself be pushed around by the manipulative aristocrats, and although the King had still sent Seolhwa to the North in an attempt to sway him, he hadn’t pushed for the marriage too hard yet. Joonghyuk meant to keep it that way. 

“Mia, go find your tutor. I need to speak with Seolhwa.” Pouting, Mia turned and ran off towards the library, leaving the two in the hallway.

“What can I do for you, Duke Joonghyuk?” 

“I need your help.”

Seolhwa folded her arms and leaned against the wall, and in that moment she became infinitely more human. Less of a statue. He could see why the King had insisted on sending her here. “I don’t have very much time before I’m supposed to return…” She sighed. “But if I’m being honest I don’t want to return right now anyway.” 

Joonghyuk nodded, then motioned for her to follow him. She fell into step beside him, and the silence was companionable. 

When they finally arrived at the orphanage, Joonghyuk watched Seolhwa closely. It had taken him a while to think of a project that would be important enough to her to keep her in the North, without having to marry her. Judging by her reaction, he had chosen well. 

Seolhwa watched the children as they played with each other. Joonghyuk could see her eyes moving around them, making sure they were in good health. There didn’t seem to be any open wounds, but the cold and lack of food could do a hell of a lot of damage without leaving physical marks. Helping these children would be a monumental task.

One that Joonghyuk hoped Seolhwa wouldn’t be able to resist.

Chapter Text

The presence of the duke’s knights must have scared Bihyoung, because after they’d left, he’d started pestering Dokja about heirs. It was all he would talk about. 

“You need an heir! What do you think happens to this place if you die?” 

“Just give it to Sooyoung or Donghoon or something.”

“You need an HEIR, not some whiny bastard to replace you.” That had made Dokja roll his eyes, which must have made Bihyoung upset, because his eyes turned red as he shouted, “I refuse to deliver any of your letters until you FIND an heir, or MAKE one.” 

This proved to be quite an annoyance. After withstanding Bihyoung’s pestering for two days, Dokja had had enough. “Alright! Alright. Bring Donghoon here, I’ve got an idea for an heir.” Bihyoung opened his mouth to speak, but Dokja glared him down. “I said I’ll do it. Enough.”

Bihyeong let him be after that, and Dokja rarely saw the three knights at all over the next couple days. Not that he was really looking for them. He had much more important things to take care of while Donghoon was out scouting. 

Dokja carefully removed a weed from the soil, the long white roots shining through the dirt. Once he was sure he’d gotten the entire root, he threw it onto a pile behind him. The sun was high in the sky, and although it was a little cold, the warmth of the rays filtered through the courtyard. It was a pleasant day to be weeding.

“God fucking damn it .”

Dokja turned to see Sooyoung straining with both hands around a large, sturdy looking weed. The roots kept breaking as she pulled, throwing dirt everywhere.

“Why won’t. This little shit. Just. Die !” Each word was punctuated with another tug at the root system, which remained stubbornly in place. Sooyoung let go of the weed with a big sigh, falling back onto the dirt. 

Dokja laughed. “I didn’t think anyone could be so bad at weeding.”

Sooyoung turned and glared, angrily pointing a dirt covered finger at him. “Not another word out of you. This is all your fault.”

“ You said you were bored!”

On the other side of Sooyoung, Donghoon was pulling weeds with remarkable skill and grace. Sooyoung and Dokja stopped bickering to watch him work. His pile was almost as large as Dokja’s. When it had been silent for a beat too long, Donghoon looked up. His face flushed as soon as he realized that they were both staring at him.

“Hey Donghoon?” Sooyoung said slowly. “When did you get here?”

“A while ago. You were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.” 

Dokja laughed lightly. “If there’s something you need you can ask me any time, Donghoon.” He looked at his hands, covered in dirt. “We should probably take a break anyways, or Sooyoung will tear the entire courtyard apart before I can grow anything.” 

Sooyoung scowled at him before getting up and stalking off. Dokja turned back to Donghoon. “So, is this about the orphanage?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve found a smaller one, with children my team and I think will suit your needs.” They walked as they talked, and stopped once they reached a washbasin at the edge of the courtyard so Dokja could wash his hands and don his coat, which he had taken off to keep clean.

“Good, thank you Donghoon. When are they next available?” Donghoon took out his book of notes and examined it for a second.

“Any day of the week, sir, excluding the last.”

“Shall we get going then? There’s still quite a bit of the day left, and since I’ve already put my coat on I don’t think I’ll be back in the garden for a while.” Donghoon hesitated. 

“Pardon...Do you want me to come with you, sir?” Dokja smiled knowingly at him.

“Not if it’s too difficult with your work schedule. If you’re too busy I can take someone else with me.” Donghoon relaxed and took the way out that Dokja had provided for him. 

“Who would you like me to send with you?” Being the spymaster, Donghoon knew where everyone was at all times, meaning he was the best person to go to when Dokja needed someone. Dokja hummed to himself, considering his options.

“Sooyoung’s having a fit, Bihyoung refuses to see me until I have a kid with me, and you’re busy, so that leaves…Namwoon?”

Donghoon gave him a look. “Sir…Maybe I should just go with you.” Dokja laughed.

“He’s not that bad, I’ll just have to make sure to shoot him down whenever he starts thinking about doing something. That should be fine, right? What do you think?”

“In all honesty, I’m not sure if the orphanage would allow you to adopt a kid if he’s around, my lord.” 

Dokja considered this for a moment before shaking his head with a smile. “Who knows. If anything happens I’ll send him back.” Donghoon nodded and went off to find Namwoon. Alone now, Dokja inspected the cuffs and hem of his white coat, double checking they were free of any dirt, and headed to the huge double doors that were the main entrance to the castle.

“Yo, why do I have to go?” Dokja turned his head slightly to see Namwoon coming up next to him, a scowl on his face. “Aren’t you just looking at a bunch of kids? Why do I need to be there?”

Dokja glanced at him again, unimpressed, before speeding up and heading outside. Namwoon followed, grumbling something about the bright sunlight. 

They made their way through the city, following the map Donghoon had given Namwoon when he had sent him to Dokja. 

“Hey, are you ever going to explain dragging me along?” 

“Namwoon, that’s the thirty-fifth time you’ve asked that in the past five minutes.” 

“Must be an important question then.”

Dokja sighed, coming to a stop in front of a wooden building. “This is it. Try not to be an ass, please. And stop scowling.” Namwoon threw his hands out, exasperated. 

He pushed open the doors, and saw it was exactly what he expected. The whole building was dilapidated. The roof had holes in it, and the late winter wind howled through the openings. It was…horrid. With how worn down the building was, Dokja was surprised to hear so much laughter. When the door shut behind him, three heads peaked out from around the corner. 

“Hello there!” Dokja waved, and the two kids shyly stepped into the main room. One of them, a young boy with brown hair, was carrying an infant. The other, a young girl with dirty blond hair and fierce brown eyes, stood a step in front of them.

“Who are you, mister?” The boy said. 

“My name is Kim Dokja. I live in that castle on the hill, the one with the big windows. Have you seen it?”

The girl nodded hesitantly, while the boy just stared at him.

“The castle is huge, and very empty. I’ve been trying to start a garden up there. I could use some help with it. Do either of you like plants?”

The boy tilted his head. “Well, bugs hide in plants all the time, so I guess so.” Dokja smiled.

“You like bugs then? I think I’ve seen some grasshoppers around. What do you think of those? And may I ask your name?”

“Grasshoppers?” The kid’s stance relaxed, and his eyes brightened. “My name’s Gilyeong.”

“Gilyeong. Would you like to go grasshopper hunting with me sometime?”

Gilyeong nodded enthusiastically.

Dokja turned his gaze to look at the girl. “And what about you? Do you like insects too?”

The girl scrunched up her nose like she had eaten something sour. “No, insects are gross. Do you have any puppies?”

Dokja let out a laugh as Gilyeong glared at the girl. “Not yet! But I like dogs too, maybe we could get one. What’s your name?”

The girl beamed. “I’m Yoosung!” 

“It’s nice to meet you both. And who is this little one?” Dokja pointed to the infant Gilyeong was holding.

Yoosung cocked her head to the side. “She doesn’t really have a name yet. She got left here just a couple days ago, and there was no note. We’ve been trying to think of a name for her, but we can’t agree on anything.”

Gilyeong nodded. “I think we should name her Seolhwa, after the lady who stopped by to help us out a little while ago. But Yoosung thinks that would be too confusing.”

Dokja looked up in interest. “Seolhwa came here?” That hadn’t happened in his past life. What was she doing going around to orphanages? He shook his head. He could think on that later. For now, he needed to get back to the castle.

“Why don’t we think of one on the way? And by the way, where’s the director?”

Gilyeong pointed toward the door. “She went out to help one of the other orphanages. She said she’d be back soon.”

Dokja nodded and smiled. “Well then. What should we do as we wait? Do you guys have any favorite games?”

They had been playing for a couple of minutes when they heard the door open and slam shut again. In stalked the angry white haired teen. Yoosung and Gilyeong immediately went on the defensive. “Yo king! What’s taking so goddamn long, it’s freezing out there!”

Dokja sighed, but responded calmly. “Namwoon. We’re waiting for the director. If you’re going to be loud and annoying, go back outside. And don’t swear, there are kids here.”

Namwoon scowled, but plopped down, sitting cross legged with his arms folded.

“When did I swear? How long is that lady gonna make us wait? I wanna get back, I’m allergic to all the goodwill in this town.”

Seeing that Namwoon wasn’t a threat, Gilyeong and Yoosung sat back down. Gilyeong looked at Namwoon, a serious expression on his face. “I’m allergic to you.”

Dokja and Yoosung laughed as Gilyeong and Namwoon began trading insults. When the director came back, both kids were already clinging to Dokja, and he held the infant in his lap. He hadn’t expected to feel this warm. 

The warmth lasted the whole way back to the castle. Not even the wind could take it away. If he was lucky, maybe in this life he’d never have to go without it again.

Chapter Text

Gilyeong watched as his house was being consumed by flames. The heat from the fire was a stark contrast to the cool breeze outside. He shivered. The townspeople must’ve been loud behind him, and he could tell his neighbor – the one who had sent for them – was trying to ask him something. He waved a hand in front of Gilyeong’s face. But all Gilyeong could hear was his mother’s sobbing. All he could see was his father’s face, the smell of burnt flesh making his eyes water. 

He woke with a scream caught in his chest. It wouldn’t leave. He threw off the covers, clutched at his head. The sobs, the face, the smell. And then a hand on his arm, and Yoosung sitting beside him. 

“Let’s go get Dokja-ahjussi.”

Gilyeong nodded. Yoosung led the way.

The moon was high overhead, and the shadows were long in the hallways. Although the hallways were wide, and open, Gilyeong felt as though they were closing in on him. His breathing sped up, and Yoosung must’ve noticed, because she chose the shortcut through the courtyard rather than the long way around it. Gilyeong tried to focus on the ground beneath him, worried that if he looked up all he’d see were flames. It was going pretty well until he ran into Yoosung, who had stopped rather abruptly. 

“Dokja-ahjussi?”

Gilyeong looked up. And sure enough, there was Dokja, shirt sleeves rolled up as he worked another weed out of the ground. He looked up at the two kids with evident surprise.

“Yoosung?” Dokja craned his head to see behind her. “And Gilyeong.” He must’ve seen how Yoosung was clasping Gilyeong’s hand, or maybe he saw how red Gilyeong’s eyes were, or maybe he just somehow understood, as he always seemed to. But his eyes softened, and he grinned, and he didn’t ask what was wrong. He gestured towards the patch of ground next to him. “The weather’s nice tonight, want to help me weed for a bit?”

Almost immediately, the two rushed forward to help. At first, they went slowly, making sure they did exactly what Dokja was doing. Gilyeong liked the feel of the dirt on his hands and the burn in his arms. The ground was cool, and solid, and so very much the opposite of what his nightmares had been. 

He was in the middle of pulling out a particularly tough weed when he felt Dokja poke his shoulder. Gilyeong glanced curiously to the side. Dokja was crouched beside him, hands clasped together.

“Gilyeong, Gilyeong, look what I found!”

He opened his hands just a bit, and as Gilyeong leaned in to look, the grasshopper that Dokja had caught jumped out. Gilyeong drew back in surprise, but he laughed. “A grasshopper! You weren’t lying!” He jumped up, trying to track where the grasshopper had landed. “Come on hyung, we can’t let him get away!” Dokja laughed, and together they searched for the insect as Yoosung watched from a distance, grimacing.

Once Gilyeong had tired of chasing grasshoppers, they went back to weeding. This time faster, and very quickly Gilyeong and Yoosung had a large pile of weeds between them. Every so often, Dokja would glance over to make sure they were doing okay before returning to his own patch of thinning weeds. Once he could hear the children start to yawn, he stood up. He put his hands on his hips, surveying the progress they’d made in their war against the weeds.

“Your pile is much larger than Sooyoung’s was the other day. We’ll have to make sure we show her tomorrow.” He winked at them. Yoosung rolled her eyes.

“It was mostly me. The only ones Gilyeong could do were the small ones.” The boy whipped his head around and glared at Yoosung.

“Liar! I was working twice as fast as you were!”

Dokja laughed as the two continued bickering. Eventually he rested his hands on their heads. “Come on, it’s late. Time for bed.” The kids nodded reluctantly, and together the three of them went back towards their rooms.

After they’d washed the dirt off their hands, Dokja tucked them in, starting with Yoosung, then heading toward Gilyeong to do the same. He brushed Gilyeong’s hair out of his eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

Gilyeong looked away, embarrassed. “Better. But will you stay for a little bit longer?”

Dokja smiled, and again Gilyeong saw the understanding in his eyes. It wasn’t fair, how did he always just know what was going on?

“Of course.” Dokja sat down, head leaning against the side of the bed.

“Dokja?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you gonna grow in the garden?”

“Something colorful. It’s so dull up here.” 

Gilyeong closed his eyes and listened as Dokja launched into an elaborate explanation of the things he planned on growing. And this time, he fell asleep thinking about houses filled with plants and flowers instead of fire.

When Gilyeong woke up the next morning, he found Dokja still sitting at the foot of his bed, asleep.

Chapter Text

“Can we look yet?” Heewon was getting impatient as she waited for the other two to pick their straws. 

“ No. Hyunsung-ssi, just pick a straw. We need to get this over with,” Sangah stood with her eyes closed and her hand out as Hyunsung gave in and picked the straw closer to her fingers. “Ok, now we can.”

Together, the three knights opened their eyes, and Heewon cried out in dismay. “There’s no way I’m writing that letter to him. Can we draw again? Best out of three?” Hyunsung and Sangah exchanged glances before aggressively shaking their heads. 

Hyunsung scratched the back of his head and said, “I’m not even good at writing, so I shouldn’t have even drawn in the first place, to be honest.” He stood up and left the room, as Heewon continued complaining to Sangah. 

“Come on, Heewon-ssi, it can’t be that bad.” 

Heewon glared at her. “ You do it then.”

Sangah sighed at this before getting up and grabbing a parchment and a bottle of ink. “Wha…What are you doing?” Heewon watched her, confused, as she sat down at the desk, dipping her quill into the ink. 

Sangah looked up at her. “Writing it.” 

Heewon sat there, now feeling guilty, listening to the scratch of the quill on the paper. “I can do it, it’s fine.” 

Sangah smiled. “I was going to do it anyways, out of the three of us I’d say I’m the best with words, no?” Her smile faltered as she added, “Although I don’t know how important being good with words is when the content is so…disappointing.”

Heewon let out a laugh. “Well that’s true. Alright...let’s work on it together then. Read it to me as you write. We’ll figure it out” Then she smirked, “And if Joonghyuk gets mad, we’ll just say Hyunsung wrote it.”

Sangah laughed, shaking her head, and started to read out what she had already written. 

“Duke Joonghyuk,

Two weeks ago, the Demon King adopted three kids- two around young Mia’s age and the last a year old, at most. 

We were concerned that he had brought them here for some plot, but we were able to talk with the children. We discovered that the kids are actually being treated quite well – they speak highly of the Demon King, and Heewon was able to confirm that they were telling the truth. We offered them safe passage to the North, but they have thus far declined.”

Heewon sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “Those kids. I don’t understand why they’d rather stay here of all places rather than get to be around actual people.” She looked out the window. “I’d give anything to be back home right now.”

Sangah’s only response was a sad smile.

Then Heewon pulled up a chair, and made a few suggestions. This back and forth lasted quite a while, and they talked well into the night before finally signing and sealing the letter. They would have to send it in the morning.

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk’s face had been set in a scowl for so long that even Mia was forgetting what he looked like when he wasn’t pissed off. “That bastard,” He muttered, his fierce eyes reading through the letter again, “Damn the prophecy. I’m gonna kill him.” 

His mentor rolled her eyes, and went to snatch the letter out of his hands. “Get your ass away from that damn paper or I’ll give you a reason to be angry.” 

Joonghyuk didn’t budge. He didn’t even look up. “Reason? I have plenty of reasons.” 

“What, you’re angry because some guy gave three traumatized kids without family a place to live? Because he fed, clothed, and housed three children who have gone a long time without the necessities of life? And that it wasn’t for some evil scheme?” 

Joonghyuk faltered. He opened his mouth as if to reply, but Minyoung cut him off. 

 “No, listen – how would he know that you and that princess girl were working on the orphanages? He lives miles away, and unless Miss Princess announced herself every time she entered new territory, he would have no idea! What if he was just lonely and wanted some life around his gigantic hunk of black stone? Seriously, it’s darker than your wardrobe.” 

Joonghyuk looked at her, a question in his dark eyes.

“I saw the place when I dropped those three knights off. But Joonghyuk – “ her voice dropped its admonishing tone, bleeding into concern. “ – if the knights find out that he did know, don’t you think it’s more important to find out how ?”

He nodded. Of course that should be his primary concern. It could mean that the Demon King had a spy in his manor. Except that he hadn’t sent one in Joonghyuk’s first life, so why would he this time around? It wasn’t like Joonghyuk had changed very many things, certainly nothing that should’ve drawn the Demon King’s attention.

A tight feeling began in his chest. Or, it could mean that the Demon King had come back , just like him. Was changing things, just like him. He read the letter one more time, lingering on the lines describing the Demon King’s peculiar obsession with gardening. He wondered what the Demon King would plant first.

Joonghyuk rubbed his chest to banish the ache that had settled there, and turned to look out the window at the patches of snow still left on the grounds. Maybe he could try growing something too? It was almost warm enough. His mentor followed his gaze, and together the two of them watched the figure that was out there, swinging a sword around.

After a minute, Minyoung spoke again. Her voice was soft and filled with fondness. “She needs something to do, outside of this place. She can only get so far with just practice. She needs experience. More than you did, because prodigies like you don’t come around often.” 

Joonghyuk could tell his teacher’s gaze was fixed on his pupil, analyzing her strengths and weaknesses.  Jihye was out there, trying- and almost succeeding- to mimic the slashing technique he had shown her the other day.

 Pupil. Jihye liked to call him her master, but he would never admit to referring to her as his pupil in his head, or that he actually enjoyed showing her the moves that seemed like second nature to him, and watching as she painstakingly learned and memorized each one. She reminded him of the best parts of himself. 

“Where would be best for her?” Almost over his anger at the demon king, Joonghyuk focused his attention on helping Jihye grow. His mentor considered this for a moment.
“She’ll need someone with her to guide her, but she should go outside of your reach.” Joonghyuk was about to protest when Minyoung held up her hand. “It’s better for her to get trained by many skilled people rather than just you. What’s the point in having a pupil if not to one day watch them surpass you?”

Joonghyuk considered this for a minute or two, watching as Jihye was finally able to get the move right, her celebratory “HELL YEAH!” echoing around the grounds. Finally, he nodded.

“Where were you thinking, Master?”

Minyoung grinned. “Send her to that trio of knights.” Joonghyuk whipped his head around to stare at her. Minyoung held up her hands.

“Listen, listen. Those knights are good and are only getting better. Sending her to them gives her room to grow, and also might give them more responsibility, as they’re taking care of the Duke’s own pupil. And they’re sure to improve as well, knowing that a younger knight is watching them.”

Joonghyuk sighed as if he already knew it was a good idea. Minyoung put a hand on his shoulder. “This that Demon King obsession again?” Joonghyuk’s eyes darkened, and Minyoung laughed when she saw he was reaching for his sword. 

“You really think you could beat me? Look, I have a suggestion.” Joonghyuk kept his hand on his sword, though he wasn’t gripping it very hard. “I’m sure Princess has already talked to you about sending supplies for the kids. Why not send her and Jihye with the supplies, and see how that Demon King reacts? He was so ready to welcome the knights. Try testing his hospitality a second time.”

Joonghyuk let out a sigh, defeated. He looked again to the young girl outside, his gaze softening as he watched her flawlessly perform the move again, and again, and again, before he finally dragged his gaze back to his mentor. “Alright.”

It took less than a day to get all the supplies prepared. Joonghyuk’s knights were nothing if not efficient. Jihye and Seolhwa stood next to the first wagon, working out the finer details of their trip. Joonghyuk stood to the side, watching them. 

He toyed with the small bag in his hands, debating whether or not to just throw it away. But no, they were sending Seolhwa to test the Demon King’s hospitality, and this would be a test of Joonghyuk’s own. To see if the Demon King really had returned. And if he had, as Joonghyuk suspected, it would be a…peace offering, of sorts. And so what if it gave away that Joonghyuk had also regressed? 

It was hard to ignore the part of him that worried about whether the Demon King would accept his gift at all. If he had returned, after all, it was difficult to ignore the fact that Joonghyuk had, in fact, been the one to kill him. 

Joonghyuk would just have to hope that he had gotten over it.

He stalked towards the two women, he wore his uncertainty like a peasant wears a ball gown. That is to say, poorly. As he drew closer, both of them turned to look at him, and Jihye unconsciously took a step back. First he turned to Seolhwa, and stretched out his hand with the bag. “Give this to the Demon King. Don’t open it.” 

Seolhwa took the bag and smiled a little. “Thank you for organizing this.”

Joonghyuk just nodded. Then he turned to Jihye, who was watching with a fiery curiosity. She shifted her eyes and looked back at him, and they sat in silence for a moment.

Joonghyuk couldn’t think of what to say, so he just ruffled her hair. His pupil froze, as if she wasn’t sure what he was doing. When he let his hand fall away, she struggled to keep her face straight and nodded once. When Joonghyuk turned as if to go, out of the corner of his eye he saw her face break out into the biggest smile he had ever seen on her. She turned to Seolhwa, who laughed, and together they turned to climb into the wagon.

Joonghyuk’s mouth twitched into a smile of his own as he walked away. He would never admit it, but he already missed them.

Chapter Text

The wagon bumped along the road, occasionally lurching to the side as it hit a larger rock. Jihye and Seolhwa had sat in a comfortable silence for the first half of the ride, but as late evening turned to dusk, the shadows got longer, and Jihye got increasingly nervous. Not that she’d EVER admit that to ANYONE. Except maybe Mia. Mia would understand. Seolhwa, either noticing Jihye’s anxiety or starting to feel anxious herself, turned to face her.

“So….did you notice how nervous Joonghyuk was when he handed us that bag?”

Jihye snorted. “It was hard not to. He was practically sweating.” 

Seolhwa nodded, smiling, and glanced at the small bag again. Jihye followed her gaze, noticing how it rattled slightly as the wagon moved. “What d’you think’s in it?” 

Seolhwa shrugged in a distinctly non-princess-like manner. “No idea. Some more expensive goods? What about you?” 

Jihye grinned. “Well, seeing as how Master hasn’t stopped loathing the Demon King since he got crowned, I’d say it’s probably some sort of insulting item. Or, wait! Yeah! What if it’s poison!” She was prattling on about all the different kinds of poisons it could be when Seolhwa suddenly sat up straight and turned to face her with a serious expression. Mischief glimmered in her eyes and sat in the upturned corners of her mouth.

“Lets bet on it.” 

Jihye blinked. “Are you even allowed to say that?”

Seolhwa chuckled. “Here, I’m not a princess, just another physician in the Duke’s employment.” Her tone was laced with spite. “I can say whatever the hell I want. And right now, I really want to bet on it.”

After she got over her initial shock, Jihye beamed. “Alright, let’s do it! We can get those knights in on it as well when we check in with them! I’ve got to narrow down my guess. You should too! What are we betting?”

“Well... let's figure that out once we have the knights with us.”

Jihye was so focused on coming up with a solid guess that she forgot about her anxiety right up until they arrived at the outskirts of the Demon King’s land. Almost as soon as they passed the first buildings, the enormous castle came into view. Master’s teacher had told her and Seolhwa what it would look like, but what she had described didn’t come close to how it was. Minyoung was right, the castle IS darker than Master’s wardrobe. Jihye didn’t think that was possible. 

It wasn’t much longer until they found the knight’s campsite. It was clearly divided into three parts. One third had everything folded with militaristic precision – weapons and provisions were neatly arranged within arm’s reach, always prepared for an emergency exit. Jihye nodded approvingly. This was clearly Hyunsung’s work. The second was tidy without any of the same urgency. It was evident that Sangah didn’t feel like they were in any danger here. And the last was…chaos. Jihye’s jaw dropped with horror as she took in the mess that was Heewon’s third of the camp. Even Seolhwa, normally so good at hiding her reactions, grimaced. No organization, no order, you could barely see the grass beneath all her things sprawled across the ground. 

Hyungsung was the first to notice them. He raised his arm as if to wave to Jihye, then caught sight of Seolhwa. He immediately knelt, fist to his heart. “Y-Your highness, I apologize for the state of our camp, we weren’t expecting you.”

Seolhwa chuckled, and swung down from her seat on the wagon. “Please, I’m not a princess here. Not anymore. Just call me Seolhwa. We’ve brought supplies for the kids and, more importantly, this.” She held up Joonghyuk’s bag with a smirk.

Hyungsung stood up and cocked his head in curiosity. “What’s that?”

Jihye was practically vibrating. “That’s just it, we don’t know! Master said not to open it either. I think it’s poison, but that’s beside the point. We’re placing bets!”

Just then, Heewon poked her head out of her tent. “I’m sorry, did you say bet? What are we betting on? What do we win?” She listened with intense concentration as Seolhwa explained the game again. Heewon held up her hand. “Say no more, I’ll go get Sangah.”

Just a moment later she reappeared with Sangah in tow. Sangah was pulling back against Heewon, looking over her shoulder at her beloved desk. “Please Heewon, I don’t have time for this, I need to finish cataloguing the supplies before we send it over and –”

When she saw Seolhwa, she immediately went quiet and turned a little red. “I’m so sorry, if I had known you were going to be here we would have –” 

Seolhwa shook her head and gave Sangah a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not here as a princess but as a physician of the North. We’re coworkers, so just call me Seolhwa.” 

Sangah nodded, and listened intently as they once more explained the bet. She nodded thoughtfully. “Okay. If we’re really doing this, I think it’s seeds.”

Noises of disbelief echoed across the camp. “No way,” said Heewon, shaking the bag. “It’s gotta be something to bribe the Demon King with!” 

“Or it could be a weapon of some sort?” Hyunsung interjected hesitantly. Everyone just stared at him. 

Heewon shrugged. “Well, if that’s what you want to believe.”

Seolhwa chuckled. “Okay okay. So Jihye thinks it’s poison, Sangah thinks it’s seeds, Heewon says money, and Hyunsung thinks it’s a weapon. And I think it’s something special for the kids that Joonghyuk’s testing him with. But what should the stakes be?”

Heewon tapped her chin thoughtfully, then shot up from where she had been sitting. “I’ve got it!” She pointed at Hyunsung and Sangah. “Aren’t you guys tired of sleeping on the floor? That Demon King offered us hospitality but we haven’t taken him up on it yet. How about whoever has the closest guess gets to accept hospitality?”

Sangah cocked her head. “That’s actually not a bad idea. Whoever wins would also have the opportunity to find out more about the Demon King’s plans, and the bet would give us some deniability for why only one of us is going in.” 

Seolhwa nodded. “Sounds good.  Jihye and I will go with the supplies and hand the bag to the Demon King ourselves. That way we’ll be able to confirm what it is. Then we’ll report back here.”

Jihye could feel the anticipation growing inside her as they got closer to the castle gates. The gates loomed above them, dark and foreboding. A white-haired teen was leaning against them, a scowl on his face. He eyed them suspiciously as they got closer. When Seolhwa said they were there on behalf of the Duke of the North, all he did was roll his eyes and scoff. Then he led them into the foyer, told them to wait, and slipped away. 

Jihye’s head spun like a swivel as she took in the castle. From the outside, it looked so dreary, but the inside was surprisingly…homey.

It wasn’t too long before they heard footsteps coming their way. Jihye straightened, and snuck a peak at Seolhwa. She looked composed as always. Jihye gulped. What would the Demon King look like? Would he be horrifying? Have wings and horns and a tail? She bounced nervously on the tips of her toes. Each footstep seemed to last an eternity. 

Then he rounded the corner. Jihye couldn’t hold in a gasp. She covered her mouth quickly, but the gasp echoed through the silence. 

He was hideous . 

There were no claws or wings or horns, but somehow it was so much worse. The bags under his eyes went on for miles . Jihye quickly looked away from his face, finding it much easier to focus on his clothing. She tilted her head. His coat was gleaming white, unstained. If it were black, she would’ve mistaken it for her Master’s. Curiosity gleamed in her eyes. Where had the Demon King gotten it?

Seolhwa cleared her throat, and bowed slightly. “Hello Demon King. My name is Seolhwa, we were sent as part of a delegation from Duke Joonghyuk. We’ve brought supplies for the children.” 

Jihye didn’t look at the Demon King’s face again, but his voice was kind and warmer than she had expected from his horrible appearance. In fact, from his voice alone she would’ve expected him to be pretty good-looking. She shuddered. Too bad that wasn’t the case.

“Please, just Dokja is fine. We’re honored to receive such support from the North. I’ve heard from Gilyeong and Yoosung that you spent quite a bit of time with them before the adoption. Would you like to see them? 

Smiling, Seolhwa nodded her head. “That would be wonderful. I grew quite attached. But before that, we have a special package for you from the Duke.” She held up the cloth bag, handing it over carefully to the Demon K–Dokja. 

He gave his thanks and shook the bag gently. “What is it?”

Seolhwa began to shrug, but quickly stopped herself. “We were forbidden to open it. However,” she let her smile widen, “we were hoping you could tell us. We have a bet going with the knights, you see.” 

Dokja nodded. “In that case, I’ll open it now.”

 He carefully untied the bag, and dumped the contents out into his hand. Jihye couldn’t see what he was looking at from her place slightly behind Seolhwa, so she shifted forward. Dokja stared at his palm quizzically. After a moment of silence, Seolhwa hesitantly ventured, “So, do you know what it is?”

Dokja laughed. He sounded bewildered, but the laugh was soft. Almost a scoff. Disbelief? Jihye couldn’t tell. She steeled herself, and took a quick glance at his face again. It was brief, and the color was faint,  but she could’ve sworn she saw his ears and cheeks were red.

“They’re tulip seeds. For my garden, I suppose.” He quickly put the seeds back in the bag, and tied it gently. It was an odd sight, seeing a Demon King holding a bag of seeds so reverently. Dokja cleared his throat. “Thank you for the gifts, I’ll let the kids know you’re here.” He turned to leave, then seemed to change his mind. He faced Seolhwa again. “By the way, we named the small one Biyoo.” 

Seolhwa stood there, stunned. By the time she registered that Dokja was speaking to her, he was already gone. 

Jihye’s mouth hung open. She spun toward Seolhwa, whispering furiously, “Sangah won??”

Seolhwa slowly faced her, the surprise still showing in her eyes. “Yeah…I guess she did.” 

It was a silent ride back to the camp.

Chapter Text

Sangah glanced again at the woman leading her to her room, recalling the conversation that had led to this situation. She had won the bet, of course. With the amount of times that the Demon King had gone to the garden, paired with the amount of times she had mentioned it in her reports to the Duke…It only made sense that the bag would carry seeds. After the princess and Jihye had told her she had won, she had gone to go find the King, only to run into this woman.

Of course, the woman had questioned her thoroughly on why she was looking for the Demon King. The woman’s – Sooyoung – Sangah had forgotten her name until now- personality was a stark contrast to the kind man she had met a couple of times. Sooyoung was rude, accusing, and violent, while the Demon King was kind, thoughtful, and understanding. 

After Sangah had explained to Sooyoung that she had decided to take up the Demon King’s offer and stay in one of the guest rooms, Sooyoung had rolled her eyes, “Are you guys still concerned about the kids? We already told you that they’re gonna be fine.” 

Sangah opened her mouth as if to refute her, but then just smiled. “Well, they are children. And they’re the North’s responsibility.”

 Sooyoung sighed and told her the King was busy so she’d have to show the way. That was where they were now, in front of a set of double doors. Sooyoung gestured to the doors.

 “There, you know the way. Dokja will probably come talk to you at some point so don’t be surprised if he shows up at your door.” 

Sangah nodded. “Thank you.”

They both hesitated, awkward silence growing between them, before Sooyoung sighed and gestured towards the hall. “I suppose I should probably give you a tour so you don’t end up getting lost.”

Sangah was about to decline when she realized it was an opportunity she couldn’t afford to pass up. She nodded and followed Sooyoung as the small woman led her through the massive halls of the castle, pointing out notable rooms such as the ballroom, dining hall, training hall, kitchen, as well as the guard rooms and servant hallways, so she could ask for help if she needed something. Finally, Sooyoung took her through a hallway that was open on one side to what Sangah assumed was the courtyard. 

“Is that where the garden is? The Demon King seemed quite excited about that.” Sangah hoped Sooyoung would give her something to work with. Even the smallest advantage was still an advantage, after all. 

Sooyoung just rolled her eyes. “The garden that is more important than his job? Yeah.” Sooyoung let out a long sigh. “That smartass has been making ME do his paperwork so he can plant some damn flowers.” Sangah smiled. So the Demon King really does love his garden. She wondered if he’d planted the Duke’s tulips yet. The sun was high in the sky as they stepped into the courtyard, and the cool breeze was welcome under its gaze.

“What does your duke want with Dokja?” 

Sangah froze at the unexpected question. It was obvious that Sooyoung was doing the same thing she was doing to her- prying for information. Would answering this question give Sooyoung an upper hand? Before she could say anything, Sooyoung continued.

“Like, he sent you guys the first week he was crowned, he was apparently pissed when Dokja adopted the kids, and now he’s sending supplies? What’s his deal?”

Sangah sighed. Even if it might put Sooyoung ahead, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to the short woman. “In all honesty, I have no idea. We figured coming here would give us a good shot at a promotion when the Duke asked us. But we haven’t been back since, so I can’t say I know how he feels about the Demon King. On top of that, I’m not sure even Jihye can truly tell what the Duke is thinking.” 

Sooyoung narrowed her eyes at Sangah, most likely trying to tell if what she was saying was the truth or not. Eventually she shrugged and stopped underneath the shade of a tree. She pointed towards the middle of the courtyard, where construction had started on a fountain. Around it, there were plots of ground that looked as if they were once overrun with weeds, but had been painstakingly cleared and prepared for planting.

Sangah noticed with a smile that the bag of seeds the Duke had sent was leaning against one of the plots. Perhaps the Demon King appreciated the gift more than the Duke had originally thought he would.

After they had looked around at the garden for a while, Sooyoung let out a sigh and turned to look at Sangah. “I have to go find him before he decides to start some other crazy project by himself. Stay in your room. I don’t want a Northern knight snooping around the castle.”

Sangah forced a tight smile and headed back to her room. Once her back was turned, she rolled her eyes. It was a good thing she was good with directions, or else she would have gotten lost long ago in the almost-identical hallways of the castle. When she got to her door, Sangah let out the breath she had been holding and opened the doors to the room. She stepped inside and gasped. Make that rooms, plural. 

Closing the door behind her, she looked around at the big sitting room that greeted her. There were two couches facing each other, separated by a coffee table. The designs on the furniture around the room were exquisite. The wall on the right of the sitting room opened into what looked like a small kitchen, with utensils and pottery with intricate designs organized neatly in cupboards. There was a small table that she assumed was for eating, though Sooyoung had told her that the dining hall would feed her. Turning to the left, she saw that there was a beautiful painting of the land surrounding the castle. Facing the doors to the rooms were a set of double doors, which Sangah assumed was the bedroom. 

Opening the doors, she was met with an enormous bed, with various artworks lining the walls. To the left of the door was the bathroom, and to the right there was what looked to be a closet. 

Sangah collapsed on the bed with a sigh. It was so comfortable. The decorations that she had seen told her that the Demon King definitely had a sense of style. As she fell asleep, she wondered if maybe he’d like to go shopping with her someday.

Chapter Text

Dokja was going through the morning’s post when he heard a knock on his office door. The door opened and Dokja could tell from the soft footsteps that it was Donghoon. His eyes hesitated on the letter in front of him before moving up to look at his spymaster. He smiled. “Donghoon, is something wrong?” The teenager’s face was set in a worried frown. 

“I went to the market to get the seeds you requested.” Donghoon hesitated for a second. “The shopkeeper was…difficult to deal with. He refused to give anyone anything for under 400 coins.”

Dokja set the letter he was holding down on his desk. Most of the townspeople couldn’t afford to pay more than 100 coins. “Sounds like a problem. I’ll see what we can do about it. Thank you, Donghoon.”

Donghoon nodded before turning and leaving the office. Dokja sighed. His days had started to get longer as the paperwork piled up on his desk. Being a new Demon King came with excessive decision making. He had to choose who to ally with, who to avoid, who to trade with, and who to be angry at. On top of that, most of the letters he had sent out to various masters had been rejected. He pulled out his chair and sat, leaning his head back against the cushioned wood. He sat with his mind blank until a particular memory found its way to the front of his mind. 

Tulip seeds. Dokja doubted the duke knew what they meant, but that hadn’t stopped him from getting flustered. 

In his first go around as the Demon King, he had hosted a banquet in hopes of distracting himself from his loneliness. He had been careless with it. There hadn’t been any security. Dokja couldn’t even be bothered to send out proper invitations. It was massive, and the majority of the attendees were only concerned with getting their fill of the food and wine from his stores. Someone had been foolish enough to try and flatter him by presenting him with a bouquet of tulips. He had scoffed, but put them in a vase regardless. “Don’t you know what these mean? You should be more careful with your flowers. One would think you were proposing.” The poor man had gone red, and left the revel altogether. 

Dokja knew that the duke had sent people to investigate the banquet. He would have to be a fool not to. It seemed they had reported back to the duke only that Dokja had a fondness for tulips. Dokja spun a seed around on his desk, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Over the past couple of weeks, Dokja had become increasingly sure that the Duke had returned as he had. Were the seeds a test, then? Was the Duke trying to see if Dokja had returned? Or maybe...was it too far of a stretch to think the Duke was trying to apologize? His smile faltered as the thought entered his head. He didn’t know how to feel about it being an apology. Because really, what was there to apologize for? Dokja’s first round as Demon King had been nothing but painful. A hell of his own making. Yes, Joonghyuk had killed him, but in doing so, he had also ended Dokja’s suffering. Like putting a dog down. This time around had been so much better. The seed stopped spinning, and Dokja tucked it into his pocket. It was clear what to do, then. Dokja would set up a test himself. In the garden.

Putting that aside, Dokja returned to the problem Donghoon had made him aware of. Had this shopkeeper been a problem in his last life as well? His memories of the first couple years were a blur. He shook his head, trying to clear it. How could he convince this shopkeeper to lower his prices? Dokja sighed and rested his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands. 

He was working through possible solutions when the door swung open and Sooyoung stalked in. 

“Hey asshole, one of the knights finally decided to take you up on your offer. I put her in a guest room close to the kids.” 

Dokja let out a laugh and got up, thankful for the distraction. “That must be what they meant by the bet then,” he murmured. Sooyoung raised an eyebrow, but when he started for the door she shook her head. 

“Don’t go NOW. It’s nearly midnight. And what’s this about a bet?”

Dokja hesitated and looked out the window. That was strange. When had it gotten so late? It was so dark outside but he could have sworn it was barely seven. 

Sooyoung scoffed, “Of course you didn’t know that. Do I really have to take care of everything around here?”

Dokja grinned at her sheepishly and decided to answer her previous question instead. “Seolhwa and Jihye came around with a bag of seeds from the Duke and said they were betting on it. I suppose accepting our hospitality was the reward. Which knight was it?”

  “The pretty one.” Dokja just stared at her. Sooyoung rubbed her neck, then threw up her hands in exasperation. “Y’know, long blond hair, big doe eyes? She’s smart?” 

“Sangah?” Dokja smiled again, this time with a teasing look in his eye.

Sooyoung pointed at him, her glare would’ve stopped any reasonable person in their tracks. “Yeah. Her. Don’t say a word.” 

Dokja held up his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her that you said she was the most beautiful woman in the world.” 

Air rushed past his face as Sooyoung’s dagger embedded itself into the wall of his office. Her face was beet red as she stormed from the room, calling over her shoulder, “Make sure you go talk to her tomorrow! And for god’s sake - no, MY sake – get some sleep you ugly asshole!” 

Dokja rolled his eyes and started towards the garden. He had some tulips to plant, and the beginnings of a plan were starting to form.

It had to be just a few hours past dawn when he finally went to greet Sangah. Dokja pulled his coat on as he rounded the final corner, boots clicking rapidly on the tile as he hurried down the hall. When he made it to her door, he paused, took a deep breath, and knocked in a deceptively calm manner.

Sangah opened the door, remarkably put together for how early in the morning it was. “Mr. Dokja.” Her face breaking into a soft smile. “Sooyoung told me you’d stop by.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you yesterday, I had an issue I was dealing with.”

“No worries, Sooyoung was…a fine host. And anyway, it gave me time to admire your beautiful decor.” She turned to admire the artwork on the wall once again. “Can I ask where you got this painting? It’s incredible.” 

Dokja coughed slightly, and Sangah turned to face him. His ears reddened in his embarrassment. “I’m….glad you like it. The artist is quite reclusive, but I’ll make sure to inform them that their art is much appreciated.”

Sangah nodded quizzically, but thankfully let the comment pass. A beat of silence filled the room as Dokja desperately tried to regain his train of thought.

“Since Sooyoung’s already given you a tour of the castle, I was wondering if you’d like to go into town with me today? I have a bit of shopping to do.” 

There was a brief second where Dokja could’ve sworn that Sangah narrowed her eyes at him, but just as quickly it was gone, and she was smiling again. She tilted her head as if to think about it, and eventually nodded.

“Sounds like fun. We haven’t been into town much. I’d like to see more of it.”

Dokja smiled, choosing to ignore the flash of contrasting emotion. He clapped his hands together once. “Well, we better get going then. The earlier we are, the better the deals!” Spinning on his heel, he led the way to the main entrance, and out into town. 

Together they browsed the various shops lining the market square. They looked at handcrafted jewelry, beautifully woven cloth, stunning clothes, and freshly baked goods. Dokja watched in pleasant surprise for a moment as Sangah expertly haggled with one of the vendors and managed to get them two Murim dumplings for half the price. He made sure to return the favor when they passed a stand of chicken skewers. 

Finally, they arrived at the stall that Dokja had been looking for. Bags of seeds filled the counter, with plants hanging in pots in the back. It wasn’t only flowers though, it was curiously the only stall they’d seen in the whole square that had fresh produce. Running the stall was a balding man who looked to be in his late 40s. His face was set in a mean scowl. 

“Hello! How much for these spider lily seeds?” Dokja watched as the man’s scowl deepened. 

“1200.” 

Dokja blinked as the man abruptly turned away from him to continue staring at the stall across the street. “That’s quite a steep price for a bag of seeds.”

The man only grunted. 

Dokja looked around the table. He pointed to the basket of tomatoes. “How much for those, then?”

“500 each.” 

Dokja went on a bit, asking after a few more items. He carefully chose a couple bags of seeds, and asked the man what his total would be.

“5500.”

Sangah furrowed her brows, taken aback at the blatant extortion. She tried to haggle with him, but he refused any offer she gave him. Dokja’s expression grew increasingly darker as he watched the man who was denying his people such basic items.

“Hey, you.” The man froze at the tone, and looked at Dokja. “What’s your name?

“Pildu.”

“Pildu. Why don’t you pay me 1200 coins?” 

The man raised his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I told you to pay me 1200 coins.”

The vendor rolled his eyes. “Why would I pay you my money, kid?”

Dokja smiled, but it was as cold as ice. There was nothing but an unspoken threat in his eyes. “I just so happen to be very influential. If you pay me 1200 coins, I can help you get that stall across the street. I’ve heard it’s a pretty good stall to have, since it’s the first one you see when you enter the square.” 

Pildu glared at him. “I’m sure I would know you if you were so influential.” 

Looking between them and deciding to play along, Sangah leaned forward and crossed her arms behind her back. “Oh but you do.”

Pildu turned to her, his eyebrows raised once again. “Do I.”

Sangah nodded seriously. “You know that big ol’ castle on that hill? I’d say anyone living in there would be pretty influential, don’t you think?”

Pildu’s face paled slightly before he scoffed. “As if I would believe some kids. Anyone could say they lived in that castle.”

Dokja reached into his coat and withdrew his crown. “Do any of them have this?” He placed it on his head, and the effect was instant. The shadows grew darker around the stall, and Pildu shivered. Dokja’s eyes slowly faded from brown to red. 

The balding vendor immediately reached under his table and grabbed as many coins as he could find, throwing handful after handful on the table. “Take it. Just take it.” 

Dokja scooped the coins into his bag, then handed it to Sangah. He didn’t turn to look at her, but he saw her nod out of the corner of his eye, and she snuck away.

He leaned over the table, one hand on his sword, one hand on the table.“Here’s what’s going to happen next. I don’t know how you established this monopoly on produce, but that ends today.” Pildu opened his mouth as if to protest, but Dokja’s glare shut him up. “Don’t worry. In return, I’ll become your sponsor. You’ll get the best stalls, with high quality products, as long as you keep a fair price, and pay me my cut.”

Pildu’s face was red with anger. “Why the hell would I agree to that? I’m doing just fine right now!” 

Dokja’s smile faltered. “It seems like you don’t quite understand.” He lifted Pildu by the collar of his shirt, holding him at eye level. “You don’t have a choice. You either do as I say, or you lose not only this stall, but your life.” 

Then he beamed, and set Pildu back down, dusting off his shirt. “Also, I want a discount.” 

It didn’t take long before Pildu gave in. He and Dokja worked out the details of their contract, and Dokja told him that he’d be sending Donghoon over the next day, and if Pildu gave him any trouble he could look forward to an early grave. 

Sangah caught up with him at the spot where their carriage was waiting, the empty bag tucked away in one of her own. When she saw him waiting there, she gave a small smile. “I handed out the coins.”
Dokja nodded, and held up a couple more chicken skewers. “I got these for the road. Ready to head back?” 

Sangah nodded. 

As the shopping duo left the market behind and headed towards the castle, they laughed over the details of their little spree, and how easy it was to get Pildu to step down. They compared gifts that they had gotten for their companions. Dokja had managed to snag a small net and cage for Gilyeong, a set of hair pins for Yoosung, and a new blanket for Biyoo. Sangah got some oil for Heewon – who was always stealing Sangah’s to oil her sword – new boots for Hyungsung, a new jacket for Jihye, and a set of weighted gambling dice for Seolhwa. 

Dokja walked Sangah to her room, and the two were silent for a while. 

Sangah clasped her hands behind her back. “You know, I think you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

Dokja let out a breathy laugh. “I’m glad to hear it.”

When they got to her room, he thanked her for indulging him, and went off to store the items he had gotten from the market in the gardening shed at the end of the courtyard. 

As he was heading back to his room, he ran into a strange sight. A very small man was leaning against the wall next to the training area. He wore light blue robes, and had long silver-turquoise hair that almost touched the floor. 

“You.” Dokja startled as the man addressed him directly. “You’re the one who wanted to be my pupil, right? Good,” - the man continued before Dokja could even open his mouth - “We’ll start right away. Into the training room, now. Your body is in serious need of an exercise.”

The man started down the hallway, and Dokja looked after him, stunned. Of all the people who accepted the invitation he had sent out, he had never once expected him to show up.

Dokja ran after him, excitement coursing through his veins.

His new master was none other than Kyrgios, The White Storm.

Chapter Text

Dokja listened as Heewon described the small cakes that she had brought back from the market. His mind wandered to the strawberries growing in the garden as she described the different flavors of the cakes. 

“You should come try some while they’re warm!”

Dokja smiled and lightly shook his head. “I just ate not too long ago.”

Heewon’s arms dropped to her side as she glared at him. “You had, like, a quarter of a full meal. There is no way you’re full.”

Dokja chuckled nervously. “I’m fine, really. I’m sure the kids would love some though, if you’re giving them out.”

Heewon’s expression changed, and she stammered out an excuse. “I’m..not sure they would be something the kids would like. I think I heard something about them having coffee beans or whatever.” She turned and headed in the direction of the kitchen, hoping Dokja would buy that. There was no telling what would happen if he found out about the sedatives. She sighed in defeat. She supposed she better tell the others to head onto plan B of the “Get Dokja to Sleep” mission.

As the day went on, the group tried various things to try and get Dokja to sleep. They tried telling him about soft pillows they had found, and put a weighted blanket on him when he was sitting on a couch. They even tried getting him to pass out, having Hyunsung tackle him from behind and put him in a chokehold during a sparring session. That one didn’t end well either – Dokja woke up just 2 minutes later, no more rested and slightly more irritated. Eventually, they attempted to finish all of his daily tasks before he could, but even with all of them working together they weren’t able to complete them to the level that Dokja did. It seemed like the more effort they put in, the more Dokja resisted. 

Finally they turned to Joonghyuk, desperate. He had been working throughout the day, but of course had caught wind of what they were trying to do. Joonghyuk shook his head in vague disappointment, and the group collectively wilted like plants denied the sun.

It was late afternoon by the time Joonghyuk sought Dokja out, finding him hard at work in the garden. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty that Dokja had nurtured here – the colorful plants and flowers bringing a liveliness to the castle that made it seem much less grim. Then he took a moment to appreciate Dokja, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair pinned back out of his face, his brows furrowed and eyes focused on the pesky plant in front of him. Joonghyuk settled down under the shade of a large oak, content to just watch Dokja for a moment. Then he called out.

“Dokja.”

The slender man looked up from the plant with surprise in his face. When he saw Joonghyuk, his expression relaxed, and he smiled.  He stood up and dusted himself off before heading over to where Joonghyuk sat. “Joonghyuk? When did you get here? You should have said something.”

Joonghyuk gestured to the spot next to him, and Dokja sat, leaning his head against the bark of the tree.

“I did.” Joonghyuk’s voice was low and comforting.

They sat in silence for a moment. A minute or two later, the sound of a violin echoed across the courtyard. Kyrgios must be practicing. It was a common tune, and Dokja began humming along. Joonghyuk looked at his companion, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. When Dokja caught him staring, he smacked Joonghyuk on the shoulder lightly.
“Stop that, you idiot. You look like a fool.”

Joonghyuk let out a rumbling laugh, and Dokja wanted to lean into the sound.

“I’m not the fool here, you are.” Joonghyuk reached a hand up to Dokja’s face, and traced the bags under Dokja’s eye with his thumb. “You haven’t slept properly in days. You look much nicer when you rest properly, you know.”

Dokja scowled and pulled his face away, glaring.  “Well if my face bothers you so much, I’ll just leave then.” He moved as if to get up, but Joonghyuk pulled him back down before he had the chance to stand.

“You fool. Don’t leave. Just sit with me.” He grabbed Dokja’s hand in his own, and Dokja relented.

“You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” Dokja muttered under his breath, and Joonghyuk let out that beautiful laugh again. Dokja leaned in to rest his cheek against Joonghyuk’s shoulder, feeling the rumbling sound vibrate through Joonghyuk. Dokja sighed, and finally, finally let himself close his eyes. The sun was warm against his face, but the breeze blew gently, and the susurrations of the oak tree’s branches melded with the music of the violin in an entrancing sound. Joonghyuk played with their joined hands, and picked up the tune of the violin, humming so very softly.

Joonghyuk felt the moment Dokja dropped into a deep sleep, his head growing heavy on Joonghyuk’s shoulder. He continued humming as he looked down at his companion, and smiled.

Their peace was short-lived as three pairs of feet came rushing through the courtyard, shouting to each other as they chased a grasshopper down the path. When the children saw Joonghyuk glaring at them, they froze. But the glare had no heat behind it, just amusement, and when Joonghyuk gestured for them to be quiet while nodding at Dokja, Yoosung, Gilyeong, and Mia couldn’t quite stifle their giggling. But they settled down. Yoosung and Mia chatted while working on the garden, and Gilyeong tried to sneak up on a praying mantis. 

It wasn’t long before Donghoon strode into the courtyard holding Biyoo – no doubt looking for the other two children. When he saw Dokja’s state, he shared a quick nod with Joonghyuk and brought Biyoo over to the two. Joonghyuk sat her in his lap and let the child grasp his finger, his eyes flashing to Dokja at every coo she made. He didn’t want to wake his partner. Eventually, Biyoo started reaching for Dokja. Joonghuyk managed to pull her back right before she grabbed onto a strand of Dokja’s hair, and handed her back to Donghoon. Joonghyuk nodded in thanks, Donghoon nodded back, and the two of them went to sit next to Yoosung and Mia, who stopped weeding to play with Biyoo.

Seolhwa peeked her head out of the covered walkway, shading her eyes against the sun. When she noticed the group by the tree, she waved and started toward them. Seolhwa had a deck of cards in one hand and a basket in the other. Sangah followed close behind her with two glasses and a bottle of wine. 

Sangah tilted her head respectfully toward Joonghyuk and said in a quiet voice, “Looks like you all had the same idea we did. It’s such a nice day out.” 

“It is.”

Seolhwa rolled her eyes at his short response, but said nothing as she unrolled a blanket, and started setting out the food. She was just about to set out a plate of cakes when a sudden yell startled her, and she dropped it.

“WAIT!”

A breathless Heewon stumbled into the courtyard. She paused before the picnic blanket, hands on her knees as she drew in a couple deep breaths. When she had recovered, she stood and pushed a hand through her hair. She pointed accusatorily at the fallen cakes. “No one’s eaten those, have they?”

Sangah tilted her head, confused. “No, not yet, but what…?”

Everyone froze as the air turned frigid. Joonghyuk’s glare was no longer playful as his companion stirred. His eyes seemed to say, if he wakes up right now, I'll kill you all. Everyone got the message. Heewon felt her knees go weak, so she sat next to Seolhwa and pulled her knees into her chest. Much, much quieter, she whispered, “Those are the cakes with the sedatives in them. You must’ve gotten to them before I had a chance to throw them away.”
Seolhwa grimaced and gingerly picked up the cakes. Then she leaned in to whisper to Heewon conspiratorily, “If only we could get Joonghyuk to eat them instead.”

Heewon huffed out a laugh, and picked up a sandwich. Sangah shook her head at their antics, and started dealing out cards. 

Hyunsung found them a few minutes later, very obviously trying to not look obvious about looking for Heewon. He stammered through some greetings, then apologized when he noticed that Dokja was sleeping. Joonghyuk eyed him critically, then turned his attention back to Heewon.

“Don’t you two have some training to do?” He asked softly. 

The effect was immediate. Heewon and Hyunsung’s heads drooped, and they made as if to stand. Seolhwa and Sangah pulled them down and sent twin glares at Joonghyuk. 

“Give them a break!” Seolhwa whispered scathingly. “They’ve been working non-stop.”

Joonghyuk was silent for a second, then his lips twitched into a brief smile. “Not combat training.” Joonghyuk tilted his head toward the source of the music. “You’ll never get a better chance than this.”

Realization dawned on Hyunsung’s face, even as Heewon’s brows furrowed in confusion. He cleared his throat and stood up, then held out his hand to Heewon. “I think he means dancing.”

Heewon raised an eyebrow in surprise, but took Hyunsung’s hand and let him help her up. When she saw how nervous he was, her expression softened, and she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Shall we then?” Hyunsung nodded, and the two of them began to waltz.

Sangah was so focused on their dancing that she didn’t notice as Sooyoung strode through the courtyard, or that Sooyoung perked up as soon as she picked out her girlfriend in the crowd of people around the tree. Sooyoung stuck close to the edges of the courtyard, making sure to stay out of Sangah’s line of sight. At one point, she froze as Seolhwa caught her eye. Sooyoung gestured for her to be quiet, and Seolhwa’s eyes twinkled as she gave an almost imperceptible nod. She snuck closer, then closer, then finally covered Sangah’s eyes from behind. “Guess who,” she whispered.

Sangah immediately smacked her. “Sooyoung!” She started to scold, but Sooyoung dodged her and took a peek at Sangah’s cards. She put a hand to her mouth in fake astonishment. “Oh my…is that two aces I see?”

Joonghyuk watched in amusement as the two began bickering, but his attention was pulled away when he felt Dokja stir once more. He stilled, desperately hoping that his companion wouldn’t wake up. Joonghyuk hadn’t realized that he was holding his breath until Dokja settled, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. The warmth of the afternoon sun  was getting to him – he could barely keep his eyes open. He took one last glance at the family that surrounded them, and felt himself relax in their presence. It would be okay. Nothing was going to happen with these people surrounding them.

Joonghyuk let his head rest on top of Dokja’s, and in just a few short moments, he was asleep. 

Chapter Text

Kyrgios sighed as his new disciple once again failed to perform the simple move he had taught him. He watched in agony as the boy swung the sword in the wrong order. He raised his eyes to the heavens as the child sat down, panting. 

“How long will you have me do this for?”

“Until you get it right.” Kyrgios snapped, sighing again as the boy raised his hands in defeat. 

“ Point taken. Would you mind explaining to me HOW I’m supposed to get it right?”

Kyrgios gritted his teeth. If he knew this guy would be so irritating, he never would have agreed to train him. 

“All my other disciples have gotten it perfectly just from watching me do it once.”

The boy grinned. “I’m not your other disciples though, am I?”

Kyrgios’ frown deepened. His gaze turned into a glare. The boy just smiled at him from where he sat. Eventually, he had had enough. He threw his hands up in the air and grabbed his sword. 

“Pick your fancy sword up and I’ll show you how to do it.”

The boy’s smile widened as he did what he was told. Kyrgios painstakingly went through the moves, his impatience growing as the kid struggled to mirror him. 

“Oh for heaven’s sake, it’s not THAT hard!”

This earned an apologetic look from his disciple. 

“Sorry. I maybe should have warned you that I’m not stocked up on talent. The only thing I’ve got going for me is a garden.” 

Kyrgios glared at the boy once again, using his sword to bring the kid’s sword up to the right place. “Keep it there,” He snapped. The boy quickly brought his blade back up from where he had let it droop. “How did you ever manage to beat anyone in the election?”

The boy shrugged. “I just happened to be better than them. No one in the running was too good with a sword, except Sooyoung.”  

Kyrgios let out yet another sigh. He put his sword away and watched as the boy fought to keep his sword level. He would have to go back to the basics if he was going to teach this kid anything. Kyrgios’ mind turned to lightning, as it often did. The build up of energy that culminates in a single moment of power. How could he translate that into something the boy could understand?

Kyrgios turned abruptly, and the boy watched as he grabbed something from his bag. With a slight smile, Kyrgios dropped the items in front of the kid, who looked at them, then up at him in confusion. 

“Weights?”

Kyrgios nodded. “Put them on. That's the lightest set I have. We’ll be increasing the weight as we continue.” 

He watched as his disciple snapped the weights on, noticing how much the boy’s arms went down from such little weight. Why is the first disciple Kyrgios took on after centuries so weak? He sighed.

“Now, do a simple stab.”

He watched as the boy complied, albeit sceptically. Once he had completed the stab, the kid looked at him. 

“Again.”

With one brow raised, the boy shrugged and did another stab.

“At least you have decent form while performing something so simple. Do this 10,000 times a day, and by the end of the week, maybe you’ll get strong enough to beat someone worth fighting.”

The kid raised his eyebrows, but turned to start stabbing. After about 100, beads of sweat started dripping down his face. Kyrgios started to circle the boy.

“The white storm school looks to expand the tiniest point, since the universe stems from an extremely condensed point. Those like you, who were born bigger, don’t know what it means to be small.”

The boy scoffed as he performed another stab. “I’m not that big myself, you know.”

Kyrgios nodded his head at that. He had seen plenty of people bigger than his disciple. “True. In fact, from the perspective of the universe, everything is smaller than a speck of dust, even giants. Therefore, it’s wrong to call smaller people like me and your friend “small”. Everyone you know is a mere speck of dust. The smaller you are, the closer you are to understanding the essence of the universe.”

The kid performed stab, after stab, after stab, as Kyrgios went on about the universe and small things. When he had gotten to 1,000, he started slowing down. Not by much, but Kyrgios wouldn’t ignore such a thing. 

“Focus! Since you’re weak, you have to work even harder to make up the difference!”

The boy gritted his teeth and regained his speed. As soon as he had reached the 3,000 mark, he again slowed down as fatigue set in. Kyrgios sighed from where he was watching the kid, disappointed. 

“An insect could do better than you.”

His disciple grinned through his exhaustion. “Then I’d like that insect to be my teacher instead.”

Kyrgios crossed his arms and clicked his tongue. “That mouth of yours…You’ll be too busy talking to effectively fight anyone.”

“What a weird way to say you’re worried.”

“I don’t want you ruining my reputation, that’s all.”

“I’ll be stabbing the air for so long that I’ll die before I’ll be able to do anything to your reputation.”

“Compared to the universe, this time is nothing.”

The kid rolled his eyes as Kyrgios started talking about the universe again. 

“Don’t roll your eyes, this is necessary learning. You need to be in the right mindset to learn any form of art. Whether it’s swordsmanship…or gardening.”

“This world is so big, surely there’s more than one way to do something.”

“The world is nothing but a speck of dust in the eyes of the universe.”

The kid stopped stabbing and turned to face Kyrgios.

“Thousands-no, millions- of people have died on this speck so far. So many more will lose their lives in the future. Are their lives- their achievements, mistakes, emotions, and experiences….their stories….are they also nothing but dust?”

Kyrgios looked at him and considered this in his mind for a while. Long enough for the boy to continue stabbing. Eventually he sighed.

“The people you will face in the future won’t be swayed by your words. You should focus more on your-”

His disciple let his arms fall to his side and turned to face Kyrgios once again. “You wanna know something? People have died for less than what they are killed for now. They will continue to die over things that don’t matter in the eyes of the universe. Life was hard before I came here, and it will continue to be hard. If I’m being honest, my life before this was more absurd than becoming a Demon King. It tied me down, and no matter how much I struggled, the bonds didn’t loosen. But I’ve finally broken free. If nothing has meaning, or worth, or value in the context of this universe, then I’ll create my own.”

The king spread out his arms, gesturing to the castle around him. “Do you know the people that live here? My best friend is here. I have children that rely on me, playing just a couple doors down. There’s a princess who’s teaching me how to gamble – I’m going to beat her any day now. I’ve convinced three knights who couldn’t stand to even hear my title that I am trustworthy and deserving of kindness and friendship. They go shopping in town with me now, willingly. That is not nothing.”

Kyrgios gave nothing away, arms folded across his chest. Then slowly, he shook his head. “You’re a fool, Demon King. But if this is how you wish to think while training, so be it.”

His disciple ruefully nodded, and raised his sword once more.

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk sat with impeccable posture in his chair. His fingers twitched as it took every bit of his willpower to not run his fingers through his hair. It had been an hour, and the meeting hadn’t even started yet. He watched as the various dukes and duchesses of the Northern Regions greeted each other in an elaborate dance around the actual reason they had all been gathered here. Occasionally, they came to greet him, and he gave them the courtesy of at least bowing his head in acknowledgement.

The air was thick with scheming. It was giving Joonghyuk a headache.

At last, the king’s arrival was announced, and everyone took their places around the table. The clack of the King’s staff echoed through the otherwise silent room as he sat at the head of the table. An advisor was already whispering in his ear. Joonghyuk had been led to a seat to the king’s right – he was sure this wasn’t a coincidence. Across from him, to the King’s left, the high priest sat with a grave look on his face, hands folded primly in his lap.

The rest of the room was comprised of various dukes of the Southern Regions, as well as the dukes and duchesses of the North – the latter of which Joonghyuk himself was a part. 

The King let them all sit in silence for a moment, a tactic probably intended to catch the nobles off guard and give him the upper hand. Joonghyuk studied the man closely. Seolhwa’s father was many things – arrogant, traditional – but he wasn’t a fool.

It’d be better if he were. 

“As a little reminder before we get started, we’re here to discuss the Prophecy of the 73rd Demon King given to Duke Joonghyuk. High Priest Yujun, if you would kindly read it for us before we begin.”

The high priest nodded, then stood gracefully. The sleeves of his habit covered his hands as he clasped them together in front of him. His voice was sweet and smooth, like syrup. The more he said, the more it burned going down.

“When the 73rd Demon King rises from the darkened depths,

And with the Duke, stands on the eternal brink,

The world shall hold its breath.

Bound by a fate neither can escape,

In their hands, life and death are but threads,

And the world will bend to the will of their union or their fall.”

The king leaned forward and steepled his hands together. His gaze was piercing. “It has been decided that Duke Joonghyuk must kill this most recent Demon King in order to fulfill the prophecy. However, I gathered you all here today to discuss the prerequisite to the Demon King’s death. Where is the eternal brink? Who has brought me the answers I seek?”

Alarm bells started ringing in Joonghyuk’s head. Killing the Demon King had clearly not worked in his first life, he didn’t want to kill him again. It felt like his mind was going a million miles an hour trying to figure out how to steer the conversation to fit his own plans.

Before he could even open his mouth, a duchess of the North rose to her feet. Joonghyuk glanced at her curiously. He recognized her, she often spoke in favor of his plans. Her name was…Harin, maybe? He fought the urge to rub his eyes. It was times like these when he regretted not having an advisor to keep track of such things. 

Harin leaned over the map spread out on the table and gestured to a point not too far from the Demon King’s fortress. “My scouts have done some reconnaissance in this area, your highness, and compared it to the other peaks here,” She moved her finger to rest on a famous peak in the Southwest region, “....here,” now she gestured to a volcano on the coast, then finally settled on a mountain near to Joonghyuk’s own manor, “...and here.”

Some Southern nobles at the end of the table were beginning to grumble. Joonghyuk sighed. Doubtless they were upset at the implications of the peak being found in the North. As if it mattered where the eternal brink was found.

Harin continued, dutifully ignoring the murmurs. “We’ve found this mountain to not only be the tallest in our empire, but in recent trips we’ve discovered that it also has an overhang. In the past months, an earthquake has caused a giant fissure to open beneath this cliff. We don’t yet know how far down it goes, but we’re certain that this is the eternal brink the prophecy mentions.”

At the mention of the fissure, the nobles stopped murmuring. That seemed pretty conclusive. Once the scribes had stopped scratching away, King Haneul steepled his fingers. “Nice work Duchess Harin, you will be rewarded for your dedication.” Duchess Harin touched a fist to her heart, and bowed before returning to her seat. The King cleared his throat. “The next line we must discuss is the last. The rest of the prophecy makes it clear that Duke Joonghyuk must face this newly crowned Demon King in combat, but why then does it speak of their union or their fall?”

This question caused the room to explode into a cacophony of voices. 

A particularly abrasive and audacious Duke of the South slammed his hand down on the table. “That bastard Joonghyuk will get us all killed is what it means! Forget the Demon King, he’s the real threat!” This, of course, sparked a series of outcries, mostly from the Northern nobles. Joonghyuk said nothing, but cast a cold look in the duke’s direction. The man sputtered in anger, “look at him, he barely speaks! He’s obviously plotting something!” 

King Haneul slammed his scepter down as he called for silence. He was obviously displeased. Joonghyuk looked to his right as the woman next to him adjusted her glasses. This was getting old. So far the meeting had progressed in much the same way it had in his first life, and he could feel the frustration bubbling up. The next to speak would be Chaewon, the lead archivist of the nation’s largest library. She was the lady sitting next to him. She would tell the king that from her research, the last line of the prophecy actually referred to three groups instead of one. Sure enough, Chaewon stood and clasped her hands behind her back, the picture of confidence and erudition. 

“If I may, your majesty, I have some insights into what the last lines of the prophecy may mean.” The King waved his hand, and so Head Archivist Chaewon continued. She held up her hand, displaying three fingers to the crowd. “The first ‘their’ is mentioned in the second to last line, “ in their hands, life and death are but threads” . From the context of the previous lines we can deduce that the people that this first ‘their’ refers to are Duke Joonghyuk –” She waved in Joonghyuk’s general direction, “-- and the 73rd Demon King. This is where it gets difficult. I would refer you all back to the audio recording we have of the prophecy’s first delivery, specifically to the cadence of the last two lines.” 

She paused for a moment as they listened to the recording. When the audio stopped, Chaewon began again. “The way that the priest delivers the prophecy puts an important pause in the middle of the last sentence. It thus becomes not “ And the world will bend to the will of their union or their fall” but instead, “ the world will bend to the will of their union, or their fall.” This leads me to believe that there are actually two distinct parties being discussed in the last line.” 

Again, she gestured to Duke Joonghyuk without even glancing his way. That was really starting to piss him off. “I would like to posit that the will of their union necessitates a reconvergence between the outcasts of the Northern region and the Crown. The last part of the line – or their fall – must then refer to the fall of the Demon King and his subordinates.” 

“Furthermore—“ Chaewon took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for what came next. This made sense to Joonghyuk, as he knew that her next words were sure to spark even more outrage among the southern nobles. “—this last sentence sets in place an important dichotomy. There are two ways to fulfill the prophecy — either we bring about the fall of the entire Demon Realm, or we unite the North and the Capitol once and for all. Needless to say, my colleagues and I suggest the latter.”

Sure enough, Joonghyuk watched as several dukes of the Southern regions scowled at Chaewon and began whispering among themselves. Just wait , Joonghyuk thought. It gets worse .

The King, who had been nodding along with Chaewon’s presentation, looked ready to beam at the idea. He leaned forward eagerly, addressing Joonghyuk directly. “What do you think of that, Duke Joonghyuk? It’s clear that Seolhwa isn’t to your liking, but have you met my son Juwon? If Seolhwa doesn’t suit your tastes, I’m sure he will.”

Joonghyuk didn’t even bother to respond, knowing full well that before he would have the chance to, the high priest would get involved.

A second later, High Priest Yejun was standing and glaring at the king. “How could you dare suggest such a foul thing in the presence of God’s chosen ones? The church will not stand by this — if Duke Joonghyuk is to unite the people of the North and those of the Capitol, the route he must take is through the faith! Let Joonghyuk conquer the demon realm as a champion of God; surely then the prophecy will be fulfilled!”

The King glowered back. “Marrying Duke Joonghyuk to either Seolhwa or Juwon unites our territories through blood! You propose a holy war on the demon realm but forget the Demon King himself. Before any cleansing can be done, the prophecy must be fulfilled — what does it matter if that union is achieved through a marriage of men?”

“What does it matter, you ask? It violates God’s greatest commandment! You are asking Duke Joonghyuk to commit heresy!”

“I never said he had to marry the damn kid, he’s just another option! And don’t lecture me on what is heresy and what’s not, boy.”

From there the meeting devolved into pointless arguments. When it had gone on for an hour with no signs of slowing, many of the more reasonable nobles began to take their leave. Joonghyuk took his cue to leave from Duchess Harin, who caught his eye and shook her head in sympathy before standing and leaving the table.

It was a long walk back to the manor, but Joonghyuk needed it. He couldn’t hear himself think, as if the chaos from the council chamber had come with him. It was not lost on him that the meeting had gone exactly as it had in his previous life. He supposed that was his own fault. But damn, even knowing what happens in the future didn’t give him the words necessary to change the present. 

Joonghyuk kicked a rock. Hard. He watched as it tumbled away from the road and into the grassy field, where it disappeared from sight. He kept on walking, and wondered about the Demon King. If, as Joonghyuk predicted, the Demon King had returned, how had he managed to change so much when Joonghyuk couldn’t even work his way into a council meeting about himself? And what did that say about the kinds of people they were?

Not for the first time, Joonghyuk let his gaze settle in the direction of that eternal brink. His thoughts calmed as he remembered the snow, and the ravine, and the dark blue sky above him.

One day, he thought. One day.

Chapter Text

Dokja propped his head on his hand as he considered the variables for the upcoming ball. It was a masquerade – that had already been decided. But what decorations? Who would they commission to make their clothes? He sighed. Maybe he’d ask Sangah if she wanted to accompany him to town again. He blinked slowly. Why was the canvas still blank? He dipped his brush into the paint he had prepared, but his mind wouldn’t tell him where to put it. He grimaced. Usually painting came so easily to him, why was it so hard now? He set the paint down and dropped his brush into the water he had prepared. His hands fell onto his desk as he leaned back in his chair. 

Abruptly, he shook his head and stood up. He needed to get something done if he wanted to give his kids the ball they wanted. His frown turned into a small smile as he remembered how shy they were when they asked him. Gilyeong had hesitantly asked him if they could hold a ball, and Yoosung had told him that it was her biggest wish. He smiled and asked them what kind of ball they wanted, and Yoosung had asked for the one where everyone’s face is covered by a fancy mask. 

He relaxed as he remembered how excited they were for it. He would be able to figure it out in time. All he needed was the right inspiration. After stopping by the window to make sure it was a reasonable time, he set off to find Sangah. Seeing all the shops would help, and having a shopping buddy with him would make it even better. Especially since his shopping buddy, as he had recently found out, was so well-versed in the politics of the surrounding areas, meaning that making this a dual-purpose ball was much easier.

After getting no response at her door, he turned to go to the camp the knights had made. Once he had gotten close to their tents, he slowed, unsure of how to approach them. He hadn’t actually gone to their camp before. Would it seem nosy of him? Intrusive? He sighed, about to turn back, when a voice called out to him. 

“Dokja! What brings you here?”

He relaxed at the familiar tone. “Sangah, sorry for just barging in like this. If you’re not busy, I was wondering if you’d like to accompany me into town again? I’m having quite a bit of trouble figuring out the variables for the ball.” 

Sangah smiled brightly. “Of course! I was just checking on the others. Do you have something in mind or-” 

She was cut off as Heewon came up behind her. “What’s happening? What are we doing?”

Dokja smiled at her. “I was wondering if Sangah wanted to come to town with me to give me a second opinion. Would you like to come?” 

Heewon considered for a moment. “What are we shopping for?”

Dokja shrugged. “Mostly just looking around, I’d like to decide who to commission for our clothes, and what designs for them. It’d probably be good to figure out vendors for the food and people to help with decorations too…” He sighed, “There’s a lot to planning a ball, I’ve found out. Any ideas?”

Heewon nodded along while he listed off the troubles he’s having, and put her hand on Sangah’s shoulder. “I think we’d be happy to tag along. We’ve got nothing better to do. After all, there’s not much policing we can do when you’re not as evil as you’re supposed to be.”

Dokja laughed. “I guess I better work on that then. I’ll practice on the shopkeepers.”

Sangah chuckled along with him. “Brutal.”

Together, the three of them turned to head into town, but Dokja hesitated. “Actually, maybe we should go to the border town? It’d give you guys a bit of home, while also giving us more of a variety to choose from.” 

Heewon looked at him, her eyes brightening. “Funny how you just seem to know everything about us. Even how homesick we are.”

Dokja chuckled at that, and after making sure both of them agreed to that, he called for a carriage. Heewon frowned playfully at him. “Must be nice, getting to do that whenever you want.”

Dokja looked at her, then tilted his head. “Y’know, it really is.”

Sangah just laughed at them as they fired playful banter at each other. Once the carriage arrived, Dokja stepped forward and opened the door for them. In a teasing tone, he bowed and gestured at them. “After you, ladies.” 

Rolling their eyes, they climbed into the carriage. 

“Such a gentleman.” Sangah smiled as he climbed in after them. He laughed and closed the door behind him. 

“So what have you been thinking so far?” Heewon, across from Dokja, leaned in to look at the folder he was carrying. Looking down on it, he sighed.

“The only thing I’ve made any amount of progress on is the designs for the clothes. Decorations, food, seamstress, staff…” He sighed again. “I have nothing for those.”

Sangah nodded, then smiled. “Any flower arrangements?”

Dokja let out a light chuckle. “Perhaps, if the tulips your duke sent grow fast enough.”

Heewon raised her eyebrows at this. “Oh?”

He gave her a look. 

“What? I saw the letter you sent him. You told me to look over it!”

He shook his head, grinning. “I haven’t even met this man, I was just being playful.”

Sangah looked over at him pointedly from where she sat beside Heewon. “Not many people are so playful with strangers from another kingdom who sent a trio of knights to spy on them.”

Dokja nodded at her. “Fair enough, but he did send me a bunch of supplies for the kids, as well as some beautiful tulips. Surely that makes up for it? Besides, that trio of knight-spies turned out to be great hagglers.”

Sangah laughed, and Heewon shook her head in mock disappointment. “You two have grown so close, it’s a shame you still haven’t even seen each other. The Duke is very handsome.” She paused and looked closely at Dokja’s face. “You have a nice smile, and I’m confident that if you slept enough to get rid of those nasty eyebags, you’d be extremely pretty.” 

Dokja raised an eyebrow at her. “Me? Pretty? Then who will Jihye call ugly?”

The knights broke into laughter, and Dokja grinned. Once they had calmed down, Sangah gestured to the folder in his hands. “So, you going to tell us what that’s for?”

Dokja laughed nervously, fingers tapping against the folder. “It’s nothing, really.”

The girls exchanged curious glances. “It can’t be that bad. What is it?” Heewon leaned in to get a closer look at the folder, but Dokja brought it up, hiding it. She frowned. “What is it? Come on, you can’t bring a mysterious folder and then not show us what’s inside.”

Dokja sighed and leaned back against the cushioned seat. What did he have to lose? “If you insist.”

He handed the folder to them, and together the knights eagerly opened it. Heewon let out a gasp, and Sangah’s gaze moved from the contents of the folder to Dokja, and back again. 

“You drew these?” Heewon’s awed voice cut through the agonizing silence. 

Dokja, who had been trying to remain stoic, couldn’t take it anymore. He hid his face in his hands. “...Yeah.”

He heard the sound of a page flipping, and Sangah’s quick intake of breath. He hated this. Did that mean they like it? Or did it mean it’s horrifying? What did they think? Why were they just quiet? Why should he care what they thought anyway? But damn it, he did. His head was racing. 

“Dokja this…” Dokja let his hands fall back into his lap and saw Sangah looking at him. He smiled anxiously as she spoke. “You’re the one that did that painting in my room, aren’t you?” When his cheeks reddened, she smiled.  “I knew it. You have the same embarrassed look on you as when I asked about it…and the quality of both of them…Dokja, these drawings are really, really good.” 

His – admittedly ill-founded – anxieties came to a partial halt. He didn’t think they were his best pieces, though he was quite proud of that painting in his room. In fact, that was one of his only pieces he actually put on display. He realized that she was still waiting for his answer, and he nodded once. Sangah wasn’t the only one looking at his drawings though. He turned to see Heewon’s reaction, and found that she was just staring at it. 

“...Heewon?”

Her head snapped up, and her stare turned to him. His partially halted anxieties started up again. Shit. What did that mean? What was she trying to convey? Why was she staring at him like that? 

Heewon slowly brought one hand to rub her chin, before turning her gaze to Dokja. “What. The. Fuck.”

Dokja blinked. “Huh?”

She slammed her hand down on the folder. “You’ve had these talents all along, and I’m only hearing about it now ?”

He let out a nervous chuckle. “What are you talking about?”

 “Your art skills are top notch! So many nobles would pay thousands to get their hands on artwork like this. Just imagine the income. Why aren’t your pieces on display everywhere!?” She nudged Sangah, “Wouldn’t it be nice to have paintings like this up in the manor?” Before Sangah could even respond, Heewon had turned back to Dokja and lightly slapped his hands when she saw him reaching to close the folder. “Would you mind if we told Duke Joonghyuk about your work? I’m sure he’d pay well for it.”

Dokja’s eyes widened in surprise. He held up both hands in a motion for them to calm down “Hold on now, telling the duke? We really don’t have to do that, I’d rather he supported an actual artist. It’s really just a hobby. In fact, I couldn’t even put my brush on the paper this morning! I work purely off of inspiration and motivation, there’s no way I could- or that he would even want -”

Sangah held up a hand, stopping his nervous ranting. “We won’t tell him. But it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more honest, surely? Your hobbies makes you seem more…human”

Dokja sighed, then nodded. “I suppose I can see your point.”

Heewon shook her head. “I still can’t believe how good these are. The designs themselves are great, but the way you drew them, it’s amazing.”

He smiled lightly, and was about to respond when the carriage came to a halt. “Hm. Guess we’re here.” He clapped his hands, grateful for the distraction, and gestured to the door. “Let's go shopping!”

Chapter Text

There are few things that pissed Joonghyuk off more than waiting. When he had first returned after killing the Demon King he had thought he was lucky, since he knew what would happen in the future and therefore could plan accordingly. Could take action in advance to steer this world the way he wanted it to go. But then that bastard Demon King had started doing things differently, and now Joonghyuk found himself in the same situation he had been in his first life. Waiting. Held back. Capable only of reacting. Unsure of how to accomplish the changes he desperately wanted to make.

His leg wouldn’t stop shaking. His hair was disheveled from how many times he had run his fingers through it in frustration. His table was a mess of papers, the royal seal standing out here and there. The angry voices of all the bastards writing to him seemed to fill the air, swirling around him in a suffocating spiral until Joonghyuk couldn’t take it anymore and covered his ears, letting his head fall to rest on his desk. 

A heavy feeling settled in his chest. Joonghyuk didn’t know how much more of this he could take. How was he supposed to pacify all of these hungry nobles? The King wouldn’t get off his case about marrying, sending letters filled with thinly veiled requests to kindly send Seolhwa back, and since she wasn’t to his liking maybe her younger brother would do. Joonghyuk could see the king’s plot from a mile away. He was worried that if Joonghyuk wasn’t tied to the crown, then he would be a danger to it. He was, of course, right to harbor such reservations. 

The temple was predictably outraged at the suggestion that anyone connected to them would marry someone of the same gender, and vehemently insisted that it would not only be a violation of the laws of the kingdom, but of God’s law as well. Joonghyuk, then, was forced into a position where he could disagree with neither party if he wanted to uphold his own values. Deny a facet of his existence, or be forced to marry a stranger. Neither was very appealing.

And while the crown and temple squabbled, the nobles of the Southern regions of the empire refused to send support to the North unless Joonghyuk agreed to devastating tariffs. He sat in council meetings week after week, his anger only growing as he watched silver-tongued devils squirm their way out of trade negotiations. Admittedly, it wasn’t only them he was angry at. Perhaps if Joonghyuk were a little more silver-tongued, he would’ve been able to corner them into agreeing to his terms. But words had never come naturally to Joonghyuk, and even with the knowledge from his first life, he couldn’t weave a web of wording strong enough to catch anyone. 

So he sat in his manor and pushed for changes that kept failing, watching as his people fell into greater poverty and starvation under the uncaring eyes of the noble population. Watching, and knowing exactly what would happen and when, and still, through a cruel twist of fate, helpless to stop any of it.

And perhaps cruelest of all, he had to watch as the goddamn Demon King flourished. 

A knock echoed through the room, and Joonghyuk raised his head just in time to see Mia run in with a letter clutched in her hands. She stopped in front of him, and held out the letter expectantly.

“Minyoung said I should give this to you right away! She said it was really important.” Mia stood there until Joonghyuk took the letter, then turned to leave.

Joonghyuk couldn’t help himself from asking, “Leaving already?”

Mia turned her head and gave him a big grin. “Minyoung said I should let you read it alone. Can we play tag after you’re done?”

He nodded, and waited until Mia had closed the door behind her to look at the letter in his hands. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. From the Demon King’s castle. He settled into his chair, preparing for another report from Sangah of the Demon King’s latest act of charity.

Instead, he found a letter written by the Demon King himself.

Duke Yoo Joonghyuk,

The supplies you’ve sent have been much appreciated by not only me, but the kids as well. They love the carved figurines. Did you make those yourself? I’m glad to see you care about the children so much 

How in the world did you know I love tulips? The last time I’ve spoken a word about them seems like a lifetime ago. I would ask if you had spies in my castle, but with the number of people you’ve sent, I don’t think you’d need any. 

On the topic of your friends, they’re all wonderful. And from what I can tell, very talented. You’re very lucky to have them under your leadership. 

Over our gambling nights, Seolhwa’s told me all about your endeavors. It surprised me to hear about how much you’ve wanted to change the North. If you’re open to it, I’d be curious to see how much we could accomplish if we combined our resources and talents. You’ve probably heard from your knights that I’ve been making changes in my territory as well, and I must admit I could use your help. 

In that light, I’d like to extend an open invitation- come visit whenever you’d like. You’ve more than earned it with all the child support you’ve sent, and it would be a shame if our children grew up without meeting their other father. In fact, if you’re so inclined, I’m hosting a masquerade for the children to celebrate their adoption in the coming weeks. I’ve already extended invitations to your knights, I’m sure they’ll write to you with more details. 

Yours, 

Kim Dokja

…Kim Dokja. So that was his name.

The letter caused a whole new host of emotions to start in Joonghyuk. It was fascinating how one single letter could make him feel indignation, surprise, fear, shame, and curiosity all at once. He didn’t know where to start with his reply. A masquerade? The Demon King – no, Dokja – needed his help? And the tulips…

Joonghyuk felt like he was going insane, reading between each line to try and find the answers to his questions. Have you returned? Do you hate me for what I did to you? Is this all a ploy for revenge? But no matter how many times he read it, the letter gave no conclusive answers.

He leaned back in his chair, sighing. Gambling nights with Seolhwa? Did Joonghyuk even know she liked to gamble? He’d heard in one of Sangah’s letters that Jihye was training with the Demon King, under the renowned Kyrgios. And with all the extra time that they had, Minyoung had reported that the three knights had made significant leaps in their training. Why did it seem like everyone managed to progress at such an accelerated rate as soon as they left his manor?

Joonghyuk held the letter up to the dying light from the window and carefully traced his eyes over the many drawings Dokja had made. It frustrated him how little he knew about his own people. The people the Demon King called Joonghyuk’s friends, when Dokja probably had a better relationship with them than he did. An ache started in Joonghyuk’s chest again, and he rubbed at it. He felt…alone. It reminded him of his first life. He didn’t want this life to go the same way. 

Joonghyuk shook his head, trying to shake the loneliness clinging to him. He stood up, and tidied up the desk. He had to remember that he wasn’t powerless. If Dokja could find a way to change things for the better as the Demon King, then Joonghyuk could find a way. As he went to gently set Dokja’s letter on the top of the pile, his eyes caught on one of the last sentences of the letter.

“ it would be a shame if our children grew up without meeting their other father”

It was then that Mia barged through the door again. “Oppa, are you done yet? Can we play tag now?”

“...Did you hear me, Oppa?”

At the sound of the door opening, Joonghyuk had turned around to look out the window. His voice came out sterner than he had wanted. “Five minutes, Mia. Then I’ll play.”

He didn’t hear Mia’s response. Joonghyuk had caught sight of his reflection in the window, and he found that his ears were burning red. His face felt warm.

Once he was sure the door had closed, Joonghyuk leaned against the cool window, and covered his eyes with one hand.

“Kim Dokja. That bastard.”

Chapter Text

  Dokja sighed in relief, his hands falling to the arms of his chair. Finally, the preparations for the ball were complete. All that was left now was getting measurements for himself, the children, and Sooyoung. He turned his head to look through the window, and realized for the first time what a nice view he had from his office. Standing up, he moved closer to study it.

It was a view of the courtyard, where he had started the garden. Perhaps that was why he hadn’t noticed it before. Just a couple weeks ago, it was bleak, brown, and lifeless. But now, it was beautiful. The trees were turning greener as the weather shifted to Spring, and the tulips…He smiled. The tulips were just the thing the garden needed to seem alive. The colors awakened his motivation, and he turned to his easel. Now that the variables for the ball had been decided, Dokja could relax. He moved his set to the window, and began to paint. 

Two hours later, there was a knock at his door. He looked down at his artwork, almost complete. He shrugged. It was already one of his better ones, he was okay with showing this one off. 

“Come in.” The door creaked open and Seolhwa walked in. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Dokja with a brush in his hand. She looked at the painting and gasped. 

“Dokja…It’s beautiful. I didn’t know you could paint like that. Where will you put it when you’re done?”

He looked at the painting, and added another dab of blue to the sky. He shrugged. “Where would it look best?”

Seolhwa tilted her head as she considered this. “It would look great in the ballroom.” 

Dokja nodded slowly. “I think you’re right. What can I do for you, Seolhwa?” He set his brush into his cup of water and turned to face her. She smiled. 

“Actually…I was wondering if I could use the ballroom? I have a couple of knights that need some coaching.” In response to Dokja’s questioning expression, Seolhwa clarified. “In dancing and etiquette. For the ball.”

He nodded slowly. “Hmm…That shouldn’t be a problem. If Namwoon gives you any trouble, find me and I’ll tell him off.” 

Seolhwa smiled and nodded her head. “Thank you. Are you up for some gambling tonight? I might need it after all of the etiquette.” 

Dokja grinned. “I’m pretty much always up for it. I’ll see you in the courtyard at dusk then.”

Seolhwa nodded her head again, and turned to leave. She stopped by the door and looked at him over her shoulder. “Come watch the practice sometime, I’m sure it’ll be entertaining.”

He chuckled as she closed the door behind her. Alone again, he turned back to his painting, and got back to work.

Half an hour later, Dokja set his brush down and stood up, stretching. He looked down at the now-finished piece he had created, smiling proudly. He wiped his hands on a towel and put his coat back on. He would go get the measurements done while he waited for the paint to dry. 

“Sup asshole.”

Dokja smiled as Sooyoung came up behind him as he headed to the kids’ room. He gestured down the hall. “I’m taking the kids to get measured, you coming?”

She rolled her eyes. “No way. I’ll measure myself and give them to the person later.”

He shrugged. “Fine by me, just make sure you get everything you need.”

Sooyoung stuck her tongue out at him and continued towards the entrance. Dokja grinned. “Going to see Ms.Pretty Girl?”

She turned and scowled at him. “Shut up Mr…” She hesitated, then sighed in exasperation. “Just shut up.”

He laughed and brought his hands up in mock surrender. “Shutting up.” She rolled her eyes and stormed off down the hall. Dokja made his way to the room and knocked on the door. After a couple of seconds, the door opened and a head peeked around the corner. Once she had seen who he was, Yoosung opened the door wider and wrapper her arms around him

“Dokja! Are we going to the town now?”

He nodded and put his hand on her head. “Yup! Where’re Gilyeong and Biyoo?”

Yoosung turned her head towards the door. “Gilyeong! Get Biyoo and hurry up!”

Dokja chuckled as sounds of grumbling came through the door. A couple seconds later, Gilyeong came through the door with a sleeping Biyoo in his arms. Yoosung let go of Dokja as he reached to take Biyoo from Gilyeong. 

“Ready to go?”

Gilyeong looked up at him, a mixed expression on his face. “Sure, I guess. But do we really have to go shopping?”

Dokja laughed. “We can go get the measurements and come right back.” 

Gileyong gave him a look. “You sure you won’t see something and go on a shopping spree?”

Dokja sighed. “I won’t. I don’t have my shopping buddy with me. Unless…maybe YOU’ll see something you want?”

Gilyeong shook his head. “No way.”

Dokja smiled and moved Biyoo in his arms so he could put his hand on Gilyeong’s head. “All right, let's go before they close up.”

As they walked through the town around the castle, Yoosung and Gilyeong bickering about whether shopping was fun or not, a light breeze blew through the market stalls. The trees planted around the main square were beginning to blossom, and flowers could be seen pushing their way up through the dirt next to them. Dokja smiled as the smell of freshly baked bread and grilling skewers floated through the air. 

Finally, they reached the door of the seamstress he had chosen. He reached up to knock, but the door swung open as a customer came out. Dokja was surprised to see the knights. “Heewon! Sangah!”

Gilyeong grumbled when he saw them. “Dang it, now he really is going to go shopping.”

Yoosung smacked his arm, and the two started bickering again.

The knights’ eyes brightened in surprise as they saw Dokja and the kids. He smiled. “I thought you were having some sort of dance class with Seolhwa?”

Hyunsung stepped to the side to let the three chat, an eyebrow raised at the bickering children. Sangah chuckled. “We will, when we get back. We just wanted to make sure we got our measurements done in time. Jihye’s already over there since the duke mentioned in his letter that he’d send something for her.”

Heewon reached her hand out to play with Biyoo’s tiny fingers. “I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it, honestly. Put a sword in my hand and I’ll be fine, but dancing? Oh boy. I’m just hoping I don’t make a mess of myself in front of everybody.” 

Dokja chuckled as Biyoo reached out with her hands and grabbed onto Heewon’s pointer finger. “Honestly, I’m the same way.” He sighed. “Though I’ll have even more eyes on me, since I’m the host and a king.” 

Hyunsung, who had moved on from the children and come to listen, turned his raised eyebrow to Dokja. “You’ll have a mask on though, won’t you?”

Dokja tilted his head. “Huh. I guess you’re right. Maybe I have someone else announce everything so I can stay hidden for as long as possible.”

Heewon laughed. “You’re hosting a ball but wanting to hide from it. You know, if you got some sleep to get rid of those eyebags, I don’t think anyone would recognize you even if you took your mask off.”

Dokja rolled his eyes, chuckling. “Don’t know if sleeping well for a couple days would get rid of these things, but I guess it’s worth a shot, as long as I actually remember to go to bed.”

Sangah laughed, then gestured to the other two. “Well, we should probably be getting back before Seolhwa decides to lecture us on timing, too.”

Dokja took Biyoo’s fingers away from Heewon’s hand and together the three knights turned to leave, waving goodbye over their shoulders. He nodded to the door. “Alright, let's get those measurements done.”

Once they were back in the castle, Dokja turned into the ballroom, curious. He entered in the middle of a practice run, and stood by the side of the door, waiting. He set Biyoo down and Yoosung went and played with her while Gilyeong sat beside them. 

He watched as Hyunsung hesitantly tried to twirl Heewon, and chuckled as Jihye stepped on Sangah’s toes. Eventually Seolhwa stopped them and brought them close together. She looked over to Dokja and beckoned him over.

Surprised, he shrugged and came up beside them. Seolhwa smiled. “It would be a lot easier to teach the knights if I had a demonstration. Would you be okay to dance with me?”

Dokja blinked. What? She wanted him to dance with her? 

Seolhwa tilted her head. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Finally he understood. She thought…He sighed. “I would but…I’m kind of embarrassed to admit this but I don’t know how to dance. I was actually thinking of joining your class…” He cleared his throat and clarified. “As a student, not a teacher.”

Seolhwa’s eyes widened in surprise, and Jihye burst out laughing. “You’re a king and you don’t know how to dance! You’re the ugliest king and the most untrained one too!”

Dokja chuckled. “It’s not my fault the only requirement for being a demon king is being able to defeat the other contenders.”

Seolhwa, recovered now, laughed as well. “Guess we’ll have to skip out on gambling and go to learning how to dance instead. After all, we only have about a week or so to prepare.”

Dokja nodded. “Let’s get to work then, tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

With Seolhwa leading, the knights – and now Dokja too – began to slowly go through the motions of a basic waltz. At first, Dokja moved hesitantly, unsure of what he was doing. But he had a careful eye, and once he had caught the rhythm of the moves Seolhwa was making and went through them a couple times himself, he was able to relax.

He started to move more fluidly, without making as many mistakes. He laughed in the face of Hyungsung’s obvious jealousy, and playfully chided Sangah’s mistakes. Soon the afternoon had faded, and Dokja stopped so he could put the children to bed. His chest heaved, and inside he felt excitement begin to grow. He had been tolerant of the ball up to this point, but now?

Dokja wondered if the elusive duke Joonghyuk would be making an appearance. He hoped so.

After saying his goodnights to the group, Dokja went and picked up Biyoo. Gilyeong and Yoosung followed close behind him, yawning even as they bickered over who would get to dance with Dokja first. 

As he closed the ballroom doors behind him, Dokja took one last look at the laughing knights. It was a beautiful sight. Seolhwa stood tall and proud with her arms crossed, a smile painted across her mouth. Hyungsung and Heewon were getting the hang of the dance, but neither would look the other in the eyes. Just a couple feet from them, Sangah smiled gently as she corrected Jihye’s foot placement once more, and a frustrated Jihye scowled at her feet, willing them to move the way they were supposed to. In the corner, Namwoon leaned against the wall, tracking Jihye’s movements. Seolhwa had offered to teach him as well, but he had insisted that learning how to waltz was a stupid skill. He hadn’t left though.

A smile flitted across Dokja’s face as he turned back around, leading the children down the hall towards their rooms. By the time they had got there, Biyoo was asleep with her head resting on Dokja’s shoulder. He gently rubbed her back, hoping silently that nothing would ever disturb such an innocent slumber. 

Even as Dokja tucked Gilyeong and Yoosung in, he couldn’t get the image out of his head. Once he had returned to his own room, he glanced at the clock. He knew he had promised Heewon he would get some sleep, but…He grabbed a canvas from the corner, and set it gently on the easel. Dokja picked up his pencil, lightly sketching away on the canvas. It would only take a minute. 

When he finally stood up and glanced at the clock again, an hour had passed. He stood and admired his work for a second, then bustled about getting ready for bed. 

He dreamt that night of waltzing.

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk turned back to look at the carriage again, sighing. Was he really about to go do this? Go mingle with a load of strangers in the middle of the Demon King’s castle? The Demon King that he was supposed to hate?

He shook his head. He couldn’t let such thoughts deter him. This was for something important . Joonghyuk took a deep breath and tied the mask behind his head before starting towards the doors of the castle. 

He stopped at the huge double doors. A sulking teenager leaned against them, his white hair in stark contrast to the dark wood. Scowling at Joonghyuk, the boy held out his hand expectantly. Joonghyuk took the invitation that was included in the letter out of his inner pocket and handed it to him. The teenager grabbed the invitation, scanned it for a moment, and opened the door for him. 

“Ballroom’s to the left.” 

He stepped across the threshold, and while the door closed behind him, headed into the castle. He walked slowly, making sure he knew where he was going, and studied the walls. They were bare for the most part, but every once in a while an impressive painting would make itself known. Soon, the sounds of music and drinks clinking could be heard, and he stopped for a second, hesitating. Then Joonghyuk took a deep breath, and stepped into the room. 

It was stunning. The decorations were immaculate. The dark walls of the castle that should have been suffocating were lined with gold and white decorations, with colorful flower arrangements ornamenting the tables. Since there had been no specific theme other than a masquerade, the liveliness of the room came mostly from the people themselves, dressed in vibrant gowns, patterned suits, and everything in between. They were dancing, talking, laughing, drinking, eating. But what stunned Joonghyuk the most was that people were smiling . Far from the oppressive feel of Joonghyuk’s own manor, the Demon King’s castle felt welcoming, open, and intimate. These people weren’t here on diplomatic missions – or maybe they were and they just didn’t care – they were here for fun . Joonghyuk couldn’t remember the last time people had fun at an event like this in the North. He sighed. It was just another strength of the Demon King’s that he couldn’t even imagine having.

Joonghyuk stopped by the refreshment table, planning on just standing in a corner and observing for a while before he decided what to do. His fingers tapped against the champagne glass in anticipation as he scanned the room. He quickly spotted Seolhwa and the knights. With half a mind tracking their movements throughout the room so he could approach them later, Joonghyuk looked for the infamous Demon King. He didn’t get to look for long before he was approached by a lithe man.

“Mind if I join you?”

Joonghyuk stopped his searching for a brief moment to focus on the man in front of him. His suit was elaborate, gold details standing out against the black of his shirt, vest, and slacks. A white overcoat hung from his shoulders, held in place by clasps fashioned like flowers. In contrast to the man’s outfit, his mask was quite plain – a gold and white affair that made it hard to read his face. Finished with sizing up the man before him, Joonghyuk gave a curt nod, then turned back to the crowd. He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the man again, though. Something about the look in his eyes, or his smile…?

“Are you looking for someone?” The man’s voice was tinged by amusement, but Joonghyuk couldn’t tell why. It pissed him off. But he didn’t want to draw attention to himself by being rude, so he turned to the man and shook his head.

“Not particularly.”

“Is that so? You’ve been searching the crowd for a while.”

Joonghuk’s eyes caught on the middle of the room, where Heewon and Hyunsung were spinning about. He nodded his head toward them. “I know one of the couples who are dancing.”

The man made a humming sound, and they fell back into silence. It was a tense silence, but again Joonghyuk couldn’t figure out why. He glanced over at the stranger, who seemed calm and collected. It pissed him off. Finally, he asked, “What are you doing here, then?”

The stranger looked up to meet Joonghyuk’s eyes, and his smile grew. “Here at the party, or standing here with you?”

Joonghyuk looked away abruptly. “Either. Both.” That smile was dangerous. 

The man made that humming noise again. “I was invited, same as you. And I’m here with you in this godforsaken corner because no one’s asked me to dance yet.”

Joonghyuk didn’t know what to make of that.

The slim stranger tilted his head, and Joonghyuk could feel the back of his neck go red. Even he could figure out what that meant. He wasn’t going to ask though. He wouldn’t play along. God damn all these fools who thought they could move Joonghyuk around like a chess piece.

When Joonghyuk gave no response, the stranger sighed, then moved away from the wall. “If you don’t want to dance, I’ll go elsewhere. Sorry to bother you.”

Something in Joonghyuk panicked at the sight of him leaving, and before he knew it he had reached out and grabbed ahold of the man’s arm. “I’ll dance.”

A smile crept back onto the man’s face, but Joonghyuk didn’t care about finding out why anymore. He let himself be pulled towards the dance floor. He didn’t resist when the stranger put his hand on Joonghyuk’s shoulder. He tried not to think too hard when he put his hand on the stranger’s waist. He stopped thinking at all when the music started, and they began their waltz, and the man moved so gracefully .

Joonghyuk thought maybe the man was speaking to him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to respond. He was afraid of what would come out if he did. Joonghyuk looked down at the stranger before him. His white coat spun out behind him as they moved, it became all that Joonghyuk could see.

Eventually, the song ended, and the two stepped away from the ring of dancers to catch their breath. It wasn’t working. Joonghyuk wasn’t sure he’d breathed at all since hearing the stranger’s laugh. It had been quiet, but earnest. It was still ringing through his head. He wanted to hear it again. Walking away from the middle of the ballroom, they passed by Heewon, who seemed to be stepping away from the dance to get a drink with Hyunsung. When she saw Joonghyuk, her posture immediately straightened, and her eyes that had briefly widened in surprise were schooled into a professional, clear look.

“Duke Joonghyuk, sir! It’s an honor to see you.”

Joonghyuk tried to bring himself back into the moment. To stop thinking about the feel of the stranger’s hand in his. He took perhaps a moment too long to respond. “At ease, Heewon. I’m not here in an official capacity.”

Heewon relaxed, and took a curious look at the stranger, who was standing slightly behind Joonghyuk. He could’ve sworn that her face changed again, a glimmer in her eyes of…surprise? Recognition? But god damn it, it was gone too quickly for Joonghyuk to properly place. He tried to convince himself it was just a trick of the lighting.

Just a moment later, Hyunsung reached where they were standing, and Heewon looped her arm through his in an urgent manner. “Well, sir, it seems like we are both preoccupied with our partners, perhaps it would be best if we caught up more after the ball?”

Joonghyuk didn’t even get to respond before she dragged Hyunsung away with her, whispering excitedly in his ear as she threw glances back at Joonghyuk and his partner. He could only assume it was because he had been dancing with another man. As the stranger gently took Joonghyuk’s arm and led him through the crowd, Joonghyuk felt a delayed sense of shame. What was he thinking, following this man around so willingly? Dancing with him? If the temple found out about this, they’d be furious. They would retaliate. But of course, some smaller, more honest part of himself whispered, let them . 

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realize that the man had led him to the courtyard until the sound of the fountain pulled him back.

The man didn’t say anything, just sat on the edge of the fountain, seemingly content to leave Joonghyuk to his musings. Joonghyuk used it as an opportunity to scan the courtyard, and put some distance between him and the stranger’s dangerous smile. Joonghyuk’s eyes caught immediately on the garden off to the side, and he froze. How could he have forgotten why he came here? How could he forget, even for a second, what he had done? Joonghyuk felt the old familiar guilt start to creep in. It made him want to scream. Instead, he walked closer, hoping to fully wrest himself from his delusions. He scanned the rows and rows of flowers, eyes catching on a particular red flower, with spidery-looking blooms. The petals extended upward and outward from the center. They were beautiful. 

Itching to move and fully aware of the gaze trailing him, Joonghyuk crossed to another section, swiftly reading the markers that were scattered among the tidy rows until he found one he hadn’t even known he was looking for. Tulips. He crouched down to look at the not-quite-bloomed flowers not knowing how to feel about the sea of red and white. Did this mean something? Was he reading too much into it?

He felt more than heard the stranger walking up behind him. He didn’t react when the man came to a stop next to him. There was a beat of silence. Joonghyuk didn’t know what to say. But he didn’t need to worry, because the stranger spoke first.

“Do you know,” The stranger said musingly, “the wonderful thing about tulips?”

Joonghyuk shook his head, still gazing at the flowers.

“The meaning differs depending on their color.”

This made Joonghyuk startle a bit, throwing him off balance from where he sat on his heels. He tried to cover it by standing up. Gesturing towards the flowers in front of them, Joonghyuk glanced at the man beside him. His eyes were piercing. “What do these mean then?”

The stranger laughed, then responded. “The red ones symbolize a perfect love.” 

Joonghyuk’s neck began to burn, and he fought the urge to cover it with his hand. It seems he should have done his research. “And the white ones?” 

The man stilled, and held Joonghyuk’s gaze for a beat, as if searching for something. Hands clasped behind his back, he spoke slowly. “The white ones represent a desire for peace. An apology of sorts.” He watched Joonghyuk carefully, although what he was looking for, Joonghyuk didn’t know. Hell, what did he ever know? It pissed him off. 

Regardless. Joonghyuk couldn’t help the relief that washed over him. This . This is what he needed them to be. To mean. If the Demon King really had returned, this is what he needed him to know. That somehow, somehow he was sorry for what he had done. The path he had taken. He didn’t want to take it again.

He had opened his mouth to say something – what, he didn’t know – but was interrupted when a lithe figure seemingly melted out of the shadows, running toward the stranger with panic in his steps.

“Sir! Dokja!” The boy called out. Joonghyuk froze. 

The man - just a boy, really – was speaking frantically, tears in the corners of his eyes and he clasped the stranger’s arm. “There’s been an attack- something’s wrong with Biyoo- I don’t know what to-” 

The stranger’s easygoing, all-knowing expression dropped in an instant, and he reached to remove his mask, revealing a cold, calculating, and all at once familiar face. He had already brushed past Joonghyuk when he replied to the boy, “Show me.”

Joonghyuk hadn't said a word as they left. Hadn’t known what to say. Had known that this revelation was in no way important at the moment. And yet even as Kim Dokja, the 73rd Demon King, ran away from him and towards his child, Joonghyuk stood frozen. It hadn’t occurred to him, even for a second, that the strange man approaching him might be the Demon King.

Joonghyuk thought about that eternal brink, with the wind whipping past him. Thought about the man – demon – on his knees before him, and the look in his eyes. The frailty that hung off him – his eyes dead, though Joonghyuk hadn’t killed him yet. The acceptance and apathy that revealed itself in the flat line of his lips, his monotone voice. Joonghyuk thought of that eternal brink, and he thought of the stranger who had approached him. All ease, all charm, all authentic. All…happy. Smiling. Content.

Joonghyuk thought about that eternal brink as he sank against the rim of the fountain until he was sitting, head in his hands. He replayed their interactions, filling in gaps, piecing together the man’s knowing grins into a narrative that made sense. He scoffed.

In the end, all that it had taken for Kim Dokja to disguise himself from Joonghyuk was a little bit of joy. 

Chapter Text

Donghoon watched as Bihyoung frantically tried to entertain Biyoo. He did tricks in the air, shook rattles, and made faces. These would work for a while, but eventually Biyoo would realize that her papa wasn’t near her and would start pouting, which of course sent Bihyoung into a panic as he again tried to divert her attention. Eventually, he collapsed on the floor and glared at Donghoon. 

“It’s your turn now. I’ve done this for way too long.”

Donghoon shrugged and went over to where Biyoo was pouting in her chair. Reaching down, he picked her up and set her on his shoulders. He smiled lightly as he felt her small hands grab his hair. She giggled, and Bihyoung stared at him in disbelief. 

“How did you do that?”

Donghoon raised an eyebrow. “I picked her up, sir.”

Bihyoung sighed angrily and stormed into the corner, arms crossed. Donghoon chuckled lightly. The dokkaebi was acting like a toddler. 

“Baa baa baa baa”

Donghoon looked up as Biyoo started singing in a series of ‘baas’ while patting his head with her hands. She must’ve seen his black hair and thought he was the Demon King, because she was rarely comfortable around anyone else. 

He walked around the room, letting Biyoo look at the art pieces lining the walls. He would stop at each one, and Biyoo would exclaim something. Soon, he got to a particularly detailed painting of the courtyard that he hadn’t noticed before. Once Biyoo had examined it, she started bouncing on Donghoon’s shoulders and giggling. “Ba! Bada!” He tilted his head and looked for the signature, and found it in the bottom right corner. KD . Donghoon froze. As in...Kim Dokja? Had Biyoo looked at a painting and immediately recognized it as her father’s? No, surely she had just recognized the courtyard?

Donghoon shook his head and continued showing Biyoo the paintings. He noticed that her exclamations had become slightly less enthusiastic as soon as he stepped away from what he presumed to be the Demon King’s painting. Once he had shown her every painting in the room, he took her from his shoulders and set her down next to her chair, where she picked up a rattle and started shaking it around. 

He sat in front of her in case she wanted him to join in, and watched as she played with her toys. It was while she was moving a wooden horse through the air that the door slammed open and one of Donghoon’s spies ran in.

His gaze hardened and he turned to Bihyoung, who was still sulking in a corner.

“Watch her.” Bihyoung looked at him, then at his spy, and then back to him, nodding. Donghoon stood up and followed the spy out of the room. They walked down the corridor towards Donghoon’s office, the spy whispering as they walked.

“There’s been an infiltration. We suspect there are two or more of them roaming the halls.” 

Donghoon nodded, his mind racing. “I want a spy in every hallway, and three in the ballroom. Find them, follow them, and figure them out. Start asking for invitations if you must. I’ll let the Demon King know.”

His spy nodded before melting into the shadows of the castle walls. Donghoon’s expression, set in a smile just a minute before, had turned sour. He felt as if he were searching through a fog. With every tap of his finger against his leg, a new question formed. Who were they? How did they get in? And more importantly, who were they after?

As Donghoon began making his way to the courtyard, he ran through a mental checklist. Sooyoung and Sangah were watching Gilyeong and Yoosung. Heewon and Hyunsung were together in the ballroom. Jihye was there too, and Namwoon was at the front gate. Dokja was in the courtyard with Duke Joonghyuk, and Biyoo…

Abruptly, Donghoon stopped. Biyoo was with Bihyoung. Suddenly he felt sick. Surely…

As if conjured by his thoughts, a series of slamming noises echoed down the hall behind him, and Donghoon heard Biyoo begin to wail. Immediately Donghoon’s head swiveled toward the sound and he began to run. With a wave of his hand he signaled a spy further down the hallway to get the guards. He saw the spy nod.

Without wasting another second, panic and adrenaline coursing through him, Donghoon kicked the door down and inhaled sharply. He took in the scene as quickly as he could. Bihyoung was trying to get to Biyoo, but a figure in a black cloak was blocking his way. Another cloaked figure was holding a struggling Biyoo. When Biyoo saw Donghoon, she reached her hands out, but her arms were shaking. The man holding her cursed and made a grab for his knife, but Donghoon had closed the distance too fast. 

A well placed stab with his own dagger caused the man to loosen his grip on Biyoo, and Donghoon took the opportunity to wrest her from his grasp. He backed away quickly, shielding Biyoo as much as he could with his arms. He stepped towards the door, trying to keep an eye on the advancing attacker.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Heewon and Hyunsung rushed in. They stood like a shield in front of Donghoon, working in tandem to subdue the attackers. Their assailants had chosen a poor room for an assassination attempt – it only had one exit.

Or rather, Donghoon had chosen the best room to prevent one.

With the attackers being taken care of, Donghoon turned his full attention to Biyoo, searching for any wounds. But all he could see was that she was frighteningly pale, and her cries had grown weaker. Her small frame was drenched in sweat, and she seemed to be having a hard time focusing on anything.

Fear came over Donghoon like a tidal wave. They hadn’t been trying to kill her…they’d poisoned her.

Donghoon started shaking. Bihyoung rushed towards them, speaking rapidly, but his words fell on deaf ears.

As reluctant as he was to let Biyoo go, Donghoon knew there was nothing he could do for her. After some cajoling from the knights, he let Heewon take Biyoo. And then he did the only thing he could think of. He went to get Dokja.

He hoped the Demon King was still in the courtyard, he didn’t have the strength to go searching the entire castle. He reached the edge of the garden and looked around. It was already starting to get late, and the shadows had grown long, making it harder for him to spot Dokja. But eventually he did. He was talking with a man in front of the tulips. He ran towards them without hesitation.

“Sir! Demon King! Kim Dokja!” He spoke frantically as he reached them, and the Demon King’s relaxed expression turned to concern. “There’s been an attack – I think Biyoo’s been poisoned-” 

“Show me.” The Demon King took his mask off, and followed Donghoon as he ran back the way he came. 

Together they burst through the door. Heewon was murmuring to a limp Biyoo, Hyunsung hovering around them nervously. Bihyoung sat in front of the attackers, eyes red as he gnawed at his claws. Donghoon could feel as the Demon King’s presence got heavier – watched as the shadows lengthened. Dokja bee-lined for Biyoo, carefully taking her from Heewon and cradling her to his chest. He locked eyes with each person in the room in turn, anger rolling off of him in waves. But his voice was soft as he murmured, “I’m not going to ask what happened, there will be time for that later. Donghoon, thank you for getting me. Do you know where Seolhwa is right now?”

Donghoon nodded through tear-filled eyes. He could do this. This is what he was good for. He was already walking towards the door as Dokja continued giving out instructions.

“Good. I need you to go get her. Heewon, Hyunsung, take these men to the dungeons. Bihyoung.”
The dokkaebi flinched when his name was called, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet Dokja’s gaze.

“It’s not your fault. Go get Sooyoung and make sure Gilyeong and Yoosung are safe.”

Donghoon had his hand on the handle when Dokja called his name again. He took a deep breath and turned to look the Demon King in the eyes. Dokja looked stern. Looked angry. Looked scared. But he looked right at Donghoon, and he nodded his head.

“Thank you.”

Donghoon nodded back, and slipped away to find Seolhwa.

Chapter Text

The 73rd Demon King glared down at the trembling man before him, his gaze cold and calculating as it dug into the attacker. He didn’t move his gaze as he spoke softly to the soldier by his side. “I want someone in here to update me on her condition every 5 minutes. And get Sangah to get all the guests out of here. This ball is over.”

Dokja didn’t see so much as feel the soldier leave. She took with her the last shreds of Dokja’s restraint. The shadows cast from the lights on either side of the cell seemed to deepen, and grow longer. Dokja imagined that if he had a mirror, his eyes would be glowing red. When he finally spoke, he put every effort into keeping his voice level, his tone flat. “I imagine you’ve realized how much of a mistake you’ve made tonight.”

The man said nothing. He shook, but he stayed silent. Dokja could feel the tips of his teeth sharpening, but he was unfazed. He had no desire to stop this transformation. Dokja made sure to bare them in a gruesome smile before he spoke again.

“You’re acting very brave. That would be admirable under normal circumstances. Unfortunately for you, these are not normal circumstances. The only thing your bravery will earn you is pain. Perhaps a demonstration?”

He scraped his clawed hands against the stones of the wall as he moved closer to the prisoner, and every step closer had the man tugging at his restraints, eyes wild. When Dokja was within striking range, he stopped, and let his claws rest an inch from the man’s throat. “Now think carefully. Who sent you.”

As the man trembled under the anger of the Demon King, any sense of composure or defiance melted away. Dokja didn’t even have to move his hand – the man’s shaking did the job for him. Blood began to run down the poisoner’s neck. He squeezed his eyes closed, his words coming out in sobs. “P-Paul. The king’s dokkaebi- I swear it wasn’t- I wasn’t- I only did what I was told- Please-” 

Dokja smiled, his gaze turning colder as he listened. “The king? There are quite a few kings in this world, would you mind specifying for me?” 

The man nodded aggressively, his words coming out in barely cohesive sentences. “The one- I mean- My- the- k-king Haneul.”

Dokja’s smile tightened. King Haneul? His mind flashed to the duke in the courtyard, and he felt something in him tighten, but he quickly pushed it from his mind. That was a suspicion that could be looked into later. He pulled back his hand, finally, and the man let out a sob of relief. Dokja stepped away for a second to grab a chair, and dragged it so he could sit in front of the prisoner. “This,” he said, “is a very good start.”

 It took everything in him to not lose his composure. To stay focused. To make sure he was getting as much as he could. He stared at the attacker, letting the man’s imagination run wild. He was interrupted by a messenger from Donghoon.

“Sir. You asked for updates on Biyoo’s condition.”

Dokja nodded.

“Seolhwa is doing all she can, but neither she nor Donghoon have been able to confirm what the poison is.” the messenger hesitated, then added quietly, “sir, if they don’t know what the poison is, I don’t know that they’ll be able to cure her.”

Fear. That’s what Dokja was feeling. What the tightening in his chest was. He was afraid. Goddamn it. Look how far he’d come, how many things he’d changed, and still, somehow it wasn’t enough to save even an innocent child. But no. He wasn’t done yet. Quietly, he said, “Let them know that I’ll be there soon. And get Donghoon to get some of his spies keeping track of Duke Joonghyuk. He’s a person of interest.” The spy nodded once more, and left.

Dokja stood with his back to the prisoner for a second longer. Just a beat. Then he whirled around and stalked up to the man, picking him up by his lapels and slamming him against the wall. The chains around the man’s wrists dug painfully into Dokja’s arms, but he ignored it. “You’re going to tell me what poison you used on my child, or you’re going to die.”

The man had gone limp after his earlier confession, but at the mention of the poison he began frantically pulling at his restraints. “Please! I can’t tell you! I can’t!” 

Dokja’s tight smile had dropped, and he could feel his pretense of calm fading. His grip tightened around the man’s collar. The shadows grew even deeper. Seemed to move around the prisoner. Strangling him. Dokja spoke through gritted teeth. “I don’t think you understand. I wasn’t. Asking . I was simply nice enough to give you the option. Tell me what poison you used. Or. Die .”

The man started sobbing harder, but finally he opened his mouth. “I-” 

It was then that his eyes, wide and panicked, rolled back into his head, and he went limp. Dokja let him go, and the corpse slumped to the ground. For a second, Dokja worried that he had lost control, let the shadows take over, but no. He watched as foam dripped from the man’s mouth. Someone else had done this. Placed some sort of spell.

Dokja spun around, absentmindedly brushing imaginary dust off of his white coat, and went to check on Biyoo. He didn’t entertain the idea that she would die. He wouldn’t let it be a possibility. If they couldn’t identify the poison, they’d just have to make a better cure.

As he entered the room he was met with Seolhwa and Donghoon deep in conversation, taking turns listing off different poisons, the other immediately pointing out inconsistencies. Bihyoung was crouched over Biyoo, his fingers on her pulse to make sure she was still alive. Dokja flinched noticeably when he saw the state Biyoo was in. She was pale, too pale, and her breathing was barely discernible. He stood frozen until Donghoon called out his name. 

“Dokja, we can’t figure out the poison used.” His voice was tinged with panic. 

Dokja’s mind cleared at this, and he looked at Seolhwa for confirmation. 

Seolhwa sat back on her heels, and took a long, deep breath. “It’s true. We’ve ruled out all of the common strains,” She counted on her fingers as she listed them. “Biyoo’s symptoms are definitely the result of poisoning, but they’re also too unique. Most poisons either leave an identifiable mark, or have unusual side effects that are well-documented. But Biyoo doesn’t have any marks or symptoms that can be traced back to a specific poison. What she does have, is this.” Seolhwa gently raised one of Biyoo’s hands, and Dokja noticed for the first time that her tiny fingers were beginning to blacken.

Dokja started to shake, he felt nauseous. He forced himself to still, to keep talking. Keep searching for a solution. He watched in silence for a moment as Seolhwa nibbled at her lower lip. She seemed…conflicted. Dokja crouched in front of her, and asked quietly, “And?”

Meeting Dokja’s eyes briefly, Seolhwa sighed once more. She rubbed her forehead, and looked at Biyoo again. Then she squeezed her eyes shut. “And it comes down to two scenarios. The first is that, although Donghoon and I have already ruled out the known poisons, the attackers used an undocumented one. This is highly unlikely. Poisons just aren’t that easy to come by. The second scenario is that…they used a strain that we don’t know enough about to identify, nor enough about to rule out completely. Something a little harder to counteract.” Her eyes flickered to Bihyoung, and Dokja felt understanding creeping up on him like a sunrise.

“I did a lot of work with dokkaebi back in my father’s kingdom,”

At the mention of King Haneul, Dokja jerked his head up. His suspicion was sharp and short-lived, it melted as soon as he saw the desperation on Seolhwa’s face. He let himself relax again as Seolhwa continued.

 “He employs many dokkaebi, and they don’t have nearly the same reservations about women physicians as humans do. A few of them agreed to let me study them. Jumped at the chance, really. I don’t know why no one’s bothered before.”
Seolhwa took a deep breath. “Anyway. I don’t know this for sure. But…dokkaebi saliva has a…strange effect on humans. During one of my experiments, we found that dokkaebi saliva has a sort of…decaying effect, when combined with the proper elements. I don’t know how they did it, but…it’s possible that someone figured out how to derive a poison from it.” As she spoke, Seolhwa’s expression became more and more uncertain. Dokja glanced at Biyoo once again and noticed anxiously that the black had nearly reached the palms of her hands.

“Do you think you could reverse engineer it?” He couldn’t help the desperation seeping into his voice. “Do you think you can make a cure?”

Seolhwa hesitated. She spoke gently. “I can try. Of course I’ll try. But Dokja, I don’t know what it’ll do to her.”

Dokja’s mind raced. It was a lot to take in. But if Biyoo didn’t get help soon, she’d die for certain. The solution Seolhwa proposed may not work, may have side-effects, but a non-zero chance of survival was infinitely better than a slow and painful death. And when it came down to it, he knew he’d never forgive himself – or any of them – if she died, and they hadn’t done everything they could. He sighed. 

“You really can’t think of any other remedy that might work?” 

Both Seolhwa and Donghoon immediately started shaking their heads. Donghoon murmured, “At this point, an incorrect antidote could be as bad as giving her another poison.”

Dokja closed his eyes, and nodded slowly. If this didn’t work, at least he would know he had done everything in his power to save his daughter. “Okay. Do it.” 

Seolhwa immediately sprang into action, gently peeling Bihyoung away from Biyoo long enough to let him know what she would need. Donghoon ran off to who-knows-where to fetch ingredients, and Dokja sat by Biyoo, humming softly to her, feeling for the first time in a long time, completely and utterly useless. 

By the time Seolhwa had the ingredients combined and ready, Dokja’s face was an emotionless mask. It was as if someone had put up a wall around his heart. He couldn’t feel, he couldn’t-wouldn’t- think. He was a stripped canvas. Everything had been ripped away from him, and only the stark, bleak, and agonizingly empty white fabric underneath lay undisturbed.

When Seolhwa moved to begin administering the antidote, he stood and retreated to the corner, watching numbly as the princess carefully treated Biyoo. He was deathly still as Biyoo’s breathing grew quieter in the anxious silence that filled the room. Somewhere above him, a clock ticked its haunting tune, taunting him as time moved on without a care.

As calm as he looked on the outside, as empty as his expression was, beneath the surface Dokja’s mind was racing. It bewildered him that whoever had laid the protective spell on the assassin – the king’s dokkaebi, if the man’s information could be trusted – hadn’t cared whether they let slip who had sent them. All they had cast a protection around was the name of the poison they used. It reeked of arrogance. They clearly didn’t care about making themselves known, and why? Did they think he couldn’t reach them? If so, they had sorely underestimated him.

Dokja took a deep breath, mirroring Biyoo’s breathing. While the vast majority of him was solely focused on Biyoo, he knew he needed to act quickly. He needed to trace the attack back to the source. He knew the end – the assassin – and he knew the beginning – King Haneul. But the anger inside him demanded that he uncover every link in the chain, every willing participant in Biyoo’s poisoning. This led him back to the Duke in the garden. The Duke who had sent a significant portion of his most trusted affiliates to infiltrate Dokja’s domain. The Duke who stood above him on the brink, watching as he died. 

Dokja’s first instinct was to shy away from the thought, but he couldn’t afford to put on blinders. Couldn’t afford to trust. Not when it came to his family. And so he made himself turn the thought over in his head. Joonghyuk, working for the king. Joonghyuk, sending his people to lower Dokja’s guard. Joonghyuk, distracting him during the ball.

Joonghyuk, poisoning the very child he had pushed to support?

Joonghyuk, who had sent Seolhwa to them? The very woman who now, with a determined look and shaking hands, had scraped the very dregs of her knowledge to give him hope of a cure?

Dokja was ripped from his thoughts by Donghoon shaking him. Seolhwa shouted triumphantly. Biyoo’s moans fell silent, but her chest rose and fell with deep, deep breaths. He watched as Seolhwa raised Biyoo’s tiny hand, watched as the black marks began to fade. Whatever the princess had done, whatever methods she had used, they had worked. Dokja pushed past the circle that his friends had made around Biyoo and gently took her from Seolhwa. Biyoo snuggled closer into his chest with a muttered ‘baba’.

Dokja felt his heart swell. A whispered “thank god ” pushed its way past his lips before he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He crumpled to the floor, felt his friends murmuring words of comfort, felt Seolhwa’s hand on his shoulder. And then he started to cry.

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk was still sitting with his back against the cool marble of the fountain when three men wearing the Demon King’s livery approached. He knew they were speaking to him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to focus. Even as he complied with their demands, his thoughts were a thousand miles away. They asked him to stand. He stood. They asked if he would come willingly. He nodded. Two of the guards flanked him, the other presumably leading the way. All the while fighting the feeling that something was off – something had changed. The guards led him down a straight hallway, but his mind was moving in an ever-tightening spiral, eventually consolidating into a dense dread. He tried to swallow it, but as it went down it seemed to be coated in the bitter taste of prophecy.

Joonghyuk didn’t know how long they’d been walking before the guards finally stopped, and asked him for his sword. He complied. It seemed important for what was inevitably coming that he comply. Besides, not having a sword wouldn’t keep him from doing what needed to be done, if it came down to it. They gestured for him to enter the room. He did. He heard them lock the door, watched the shadows beneath it as two of the guards took up their positions on either side. Watched as the third came into view through the only window in the room, effectively cutting off his only alternative exit. Joonghyuk exhaled. He could force his way out if he needed to, but no. No. He needed to be very careful about how he presented himself from this moment onward, if he wanted to prevent what little he had changed from reverting. 

So instead of looking for exits, or weaknesses, or distractions, as one would be prone to do when imprisoned in a strange room, Joonghyuk let his eyes rest on the little things. The desk, a mess of papers and half-written letters. The couch, a blanket thrown haphazardly across the back of it. The coffee table, where a book sat open. It piqued his interest, and so Joonghyuk went and picked it up, flipping gingerly through the pages. It was dog-eared and ink-stained; in some places the underlining and writing were so extensive that they made it difficult to make out the original text. There were drawings occasionally, tucked into corners. Or…maybe not drawings, but diagrams? Curious, but careful to keep the book open to the same page, Joonghyuk checked the cover. Flowers. It was a book of flowers. 

With the events of the night still fresh in his mind, Joonghyuk went back to the page that the book had been open to. The left side was filled with drawings – some were the books, but others were undoubtedly added by a different hand. Red, spindly leaves protruded from the center of the flower in the diagram, and Joonghyuk glanced up at the window that faced the courtyard. They were the same flowers that had caught his attention just a little while ago. Then he turned his attention back to the book – journal? – and squinted as he tried to read the writing on the left hand side. There was so much written between the lines that it was almost intelligible, but one word stood out clearly near the end of the text. It was heavily underlined. Rebirth. And just below that, a lone sentence.

The dread rose with such force that Joonghyuk nearly dropped the book, a hand flying to cover his mouth. And this time when he swallowed it, hope remained. He carefully set the book back down on the table, then sat on the couch with his head in his hands. His thoughts had gone eerily quiet. Joonghyuk knew, of course, that this didn’t solve his current predicament. Didn’t negate the suspicion that was inevitably placed on him after whatever had happened to Dokja’s child tonight. And yet…

Boots clicking in the hall outside. Joonghuyk tensed. He didn’t have any more time to think this through. The inevitable was coming. He hoped he was ready for it. He tried to force the words into his mouth, turn them around, taste them, become familiar with them before he would be expected to say them. It was all he could think to do in these precious last moments.

The door flew open, and the 73rd Demon King entered the room. Joonghyuk said nothing, and neither did he, and so they each just examined the other. Joonghyuk tracked the redness around Dokja’s eyes, the anger in the set of his mouth, the apprehension in his eyes. He wished he knew what Dokja saw, looking at him then.

A beat. Then two. A clock chimed the hour from somewhere in the castle, and Joonghyuk flinched slightly. He hadn’t given in, or looked away, but he still felt like he had lost something, somehow. So he folded first. 

“Is she…?”

Dokja nodded tersely,  arms folded across his chest. Joonghyuk could tell he was still scrutinizing him. He wished desperately that he knew how to play this, what words to say, to convince Dokja of his innocence.

“That’s…good to hear.”

A  beat. He made himself say the words, and even as he said them he knew they sounded pathetic.

“I hope you know I wouldn’t —”

“How would I know that?” Dokja cut in sharply. “How could I possibly know?”

Joonghyuk had no response for that. His gaze flickered to the book on the table. When he looked back at Dokja, he knew that the Demon King had tracked his gaze. Secondary , he had to remind himself. The book is secondary .

Maybe it was wishful thinking on Joonghyuk’s part, but Dokja looked like he was having to give himself the same reminder. When he spoke next, his voice was pained.
“The attackers revealed that they had been sent by the king. Did you come here on the king’s behalf as well, Duke Joonghyuk?”

Joonghyuk’s gaze darkened at the mention of the King. “I’m not some puppet the King can order around as he likes.”

Dokja scoffed. “A nice claim, to be sure. But your words hold no weight here, Duke of the North. If you want me to believe you, I’m going to need something better than empty claims and threatening glares.”

Joonghyuk gritted his teeth, trying to temper his anger. “Surely the fact that I keep Lady Seolhwa as a physician rather than a wife is a point in my favor in that regard.”

Dokja smiled, but it held little humor. “What did I say about empty claims?”

Joonghyuk could feel the frustration building up inside him again, so very similar to the fancy meetings, the silver-tongued nobles. But he pushed it down. They weren’t the same. Dokja had every reason not to trust him right now, Joonghyuk knew that. So he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, and gestured for Dokja to sit opposite him. “No more empty claims. Then how about a negotiation?” 

Dokja slowly moved to claim the seat, and Joonghyuk was filled with relief. He didn’t know how to play word games, or how to spin a convincing narrative, so he did the only thing he could. He told the truth, and hoped it would be enough.

“I have my own qualms with King Haneul. You’ve heard of the prophecy, I’m sure?”

Dokja nodded.

“He’s using it as a cover for pushing for the eradication of the North. He’s been withholding aid for months, and pushing for me to marry either Seolhwa, or Seolhwa’s sibling.”

As he spoke, Joonghyuk saw recognition dawn in Dokja’s eyes. The slender man leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Ahh, he wants to frame you, then?”
Joonghyuk gave a curt nod. “If I marry into the royal family, he’ll have a much easier time accusing me of treason.”
“He fears the power of the North.”
“And the sway that we hold with the people of the Capitol. His subjects would not support an attack on the North barring something devastating. I suspect that he orchestrated the poisoning of your child for similar reasons.”

Dokja furrowed his brow. “What does that have to do with Biyoo? With me?”

Joonghyuk leaned forward a bit as well. He could see Dokja beginning to understand. Beginning to believe him. “The Archive presented two interpretations of the prophecy. The first requires the reunification of the North with the Capitol. Obviously the King is not in favor.”

“And the alternative?”

“Complete eradication of the Demon Realm.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, letting the full weight come to a rest on their shoulders. Dokja broke the silence first. “So he poisoned my child, hoping I would retaliate in some way. So he can sway public opinion in favor of a crusade.”

Joonghyuk leaned back, the tension leaving him. Hopefully this would be enough. “I believe so, yes.”

“To prevent the North from getting more powerful.”

“Yes.”

Dokja crossed his arms, lost in thought. Joonghyuk was more than willing to let him contemplate, so long that it meant that suspicion was passed from him to where it truly belonged. The silence stretched on, but not uncomfortably. Somehow, in the course of their discussion, their dynamic had changed from interrogator and suspect to something like allies.

Eventually, Dokja looked back up at Joonghyuk. His eyes had returned to their usual brown color, and the resolve in them made Joonghyuk forget how to breathe.

“You said this was a negotiation?” Dokja probed, ever curious. His voice had lost its edge of anger. 

Joonghyuk cleared his throat. “You mentioned in your letter that you could use my help. I could use your assistance as well. And now it seems we have a common enemy.” 

Dokja lit up, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Oh,” he said, lips twitching upward, “I do like where this is going.”

Joonghyuk tried desperately to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks. “I have a residence in the Capitol. Whatever revenge you’re planning for the King, you’ll need to be closer to him. I can facilitate that. Let my residence be your base of operations, and I’ll pledge to help you in any way I am able.”

Dokja cocked his head. “Harboring an enemy of the King is hardly a good way to solve your problems with him. What do you get out of this?”

“The satisfaction of watching the King lose his grip on his kingdom.”
“Touching, but what else.” 

Joonghyuk sighed. “I…lack your talent with words. There are many changes I wish to make in the North, but I am finding it…difficult to convince the other nobles. I could use your…persuasiveness.”

Dokja's smile had been growing as Joonghyuk spoke, but when he finished, the Demon King laughed. The sound was so real , so unexpected, that Joonghyuk had to look away lest he be caught staring. 

“I never thought my insufferableness would be so useful, and yet here we stand.” Dokja stood and stretched, glancing down at where Joonghyuk was still sitting. He grinned. “I’ll have a guest room prepared for you for tonight, it’s been quite an eventful evening. I hope you won’t take it too personally if I assign some of my men to stand guard. Tomorrow we can discuss the terms of our partnership in further detail.”

Joonghyuk stood then, nodded, and made for the door. He had just passed the threshold when he heard Dokja call after him.

“Duke Joonghyuk?"

Joonghyuk turned. Dokja stood in the same spot, but it appeared he had picked up the book on the table. He tapped his finger against the cover, but his eyes remained on Joonghyuk, rooting him to the spot. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, but it wasn’t unkind. 

“Next time we dance, try to remember to breathe.” 

Chapter Text

Dokja followed Joonghyuk through the halls of the Duke’s residence in the Capitol, the sounds of their boots echoing in the silence between them. Despite his seemingly unbothered appearance, Dokja’s mind was turning. They had arrived earlier that day, and Dokja had spent the hours leading up to their first meeting together extracting all information from  Joonghyuk on the dukes and duchesses of the North, as well as figuring out how they would disguise the demon king’s presence. They had agreed that Dokja would act as Joonghyuk’s advisor, and he therefore needed the knowledge of one. Together they had gone through files of past recorded meetings to examine each participant. 

The meeting they were heading to was to discuss the North’s plan of action in the upcoming council at the palace, where they were going to introduce the idea of succession rights for non-male children. Seeing how against change much of the South and the temple were, they were going to have to come up with a pretty damn convincing argument. 

Dokja was dragged from his thoughts as Joonghyuk stopped in front of the door and looked back at him. They locked eyes, nodded. Once they did this, they were in it. But they were ready. So together, with the Duke opening the doors, they stepped into the meeting. 

Instantly, they were met with an uncomfortable number of stares. Joonghyuk, ignoring the stares, went to take his place at the head of the table. As he was the main representative of the North, most meetings leading up to the council were held in his residence, so Dokja imagined future meetings would be similar. Dokja noticed that the stares were following him, not the Duke, and had to hide his smile. It seemed Joonghyuk didn’t bring outsiders often. 

Once the Duke had settled, with Dokja standing at his right, the Duchess on his left cleared her throat. She had her hair up in a complicated arrangement, and wore clothes more fitting for the forest than a meeting.

“Duke Joonghyuk, I see you brought company? Is this your long-awaited advisor?”

Again hiding a smile, Dokja watched as Joonghyuk gave a sharp nod. He noted that the duchess- who he presumed to be duchess Harin- smiled, not caring for the Duke’s brisk attitude. Joonghyuk was right, then, that this Duchess wasn’t like most other nobles, who had egos too high for anyone’s good. Dokja made a note to keep an eye on her. Something was whispering to him that she could prove useful for their cause. 

Harin stood, holding her copy of the pamphlet that had been placed before each seat at the table. “As you all know, introducing a concept like this will require a near-perfect plan of action. If we fail to effectively bring this bill to attention, both the South and the Church will refuse to hear any of our ideas in the future. So, before we begin, I suggest we each read over the bill in question to fully understand the context of what we’re doing. We’ll begin collaborating after that.” 

There was a collective nod and shuffle of papers as the various nobles picked up their pamphlets and started reading. Dokja could sense the hesitation coming from most of the nobles as they reread the contents of the bill. He shrugged. Most people would feel hesitant to apply change to established tradition, all he had to do was push them over the edge and into agreement. 

Dokja turned his attention to the pamphlet in front of Joonghyuk, and quickly skimmed through it to look for details that hadn’t been included in the meeting plan. He noticed that, while in the meeting plan it had said “female children”, the pamphlet said “non-male”. He glanced quickly at Harin, who had written the pamphlet, wondering if maybe there was more to this bill than just progression. He filed the thought away as a duke on the far end of the table spoke up.

“Duchess Harin…pardon me, but I have a hard time seeing any way that we could possibly convince the South to agree to this, let alone the church. I, myself, have a hard time picturing this, if only because I’ve only ever known of male rulers. How do we expect to convince them when they won’t even entertain the thought?”

Harin nodded, and leaned over the tape conspiratorially. “That’s true. I too have never heard of a ruler that isn’t male, but, if I may, up until a couple years ago, I hadn’t heard of a single member of the council that wasn’t male. And they only won by one vote.”  Harin looked each Duke and Duchess in the eye before continuing. “If we even manage to convince one southern noble of our aim, we will be that much closer to winning. She straightened, and flashed a smile at the Duke who had raised his concerns. “And if we can’t manage to convince the Dukes themselves, we’ll aim to win the trust and respect of the Southern public.”

The Duke nodded his understanding, and Dokja could feel his respect for Harin growing already. She had quickly and calmly addressed much of what was making the other nobles hesitate. She understood that not everyone would be on her side immediately, and had found an effective argument. The duke that had spoken was quite polite, too. All in all, it was quite an ideal council. Though, from what Dokja could see, there were a couple dukes who didn’t seem in any way pleased with the meeting.   

“Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s begin. Our greatest concern with raising this bill is avoiding backlash from the church.” Harin’s smile slipped into a scowl as she considered the map in front of her. “They’ve been even more greedy for political power than before.”

A duchess further down the table cleared her throat. “I understand your concerns with the church, but shouldn’t we be worrying about the South as well?”

Harin nodded. “That’s true. After all, the South tends to be the church’s greatest supporters.” She rubbed her chin in thought, then continued. “I think it’s best if we take this one step at a time. Right now, the biggest group that would be against this bill is the church, as it goes directly against their doctrine. If we focus on countering Southern support, the church itself will move ahead with its objections. If we aim to counter the church, then ideally we nip Southern support in the bud as well. What do we think?” Harin did a quick scan of the room, and murmurs of ascent rose from the majority.

The duchess nodded her understanding, and Harin continued. “Now, their biggest weapon against us is that the doctrine of the church states that only men can hold the power of God. Anyone else is not only unworthy, but incapable. Thus, this kingdom has followed the same tradition in every generation of men ruling over the country.” Tapping her finger against the table, Harin looked to the other dukes and duchesses. “How can we twist the doctrine so they can’t use it against us?”

There was a silence, and then a steady murmur as each noble began searching their minds for anything that could work, and debating their ideas with those around them. Unsurprisingly, no one attempted to include Joonghyuk in this discussion. Dokja leaned down and whispered into Joonghyuk’s ear. Hearing his words, the Duke nodded and made eye contact with Harin, who had been watching the exchange.

“The doctrine states that men hold the power of God, but there’s no historical or religious precedent that equates the power of God with power over the people. That’s a rather recent development. After all, the church itself has had numerous female prophets and seers”

Understanding dawned in Harin’s eyes. “So there’s no particular reason why a woman couldn’t hold the throne, and we expose the church’s attempt to rewrite history in the process.” Joonghyuk nodded, and Harin grinned. “This could work.”

After a few rounds of debate, and a lengthy discussion refining the idea, the meeting was finally adjourned. Dokja shifted his weight from foot to foot, eager to get moving and spill his thoughts. It had been agonizing to sit through the meeting in silence, only able to contribute by whispering in Joonghyuk’s ear. As he and Joonghyuk made their way to the exit, a voice called out.

“Duke Joonghyuk, could I meet with you for a moment?”

As the last of the nobles filed out of the room, Dokja became aware of Harin’s gaze. She looked like a hawk, eyeing its prey. Joonghyuk glanced between them, eyes narrowed, before clearing his throat. “You wanted to speak with us?”

Harin scoffed, and folded her arms. It surprised Dokja. She had been so cordial during the meeting, it was interesting to see her personality shine through outside of a formal setting.

“I mean no offense, Duke, but I was hoping I could speak to your advisor?” She smiled and leaned forward just a bit, clearly teasing them. “Interesting that you said ‘us’, though. Are you that inseparable?” 

Joonghyuk opened his mouth as if to protest, but Dokja slid smoothly in front of him before he could say anything to embarrass them further. As it was, his ears were just the slightest bit red. “Duchess Harin, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Kim Dokja, recently appointed advisor to Duke Joonghyuk. What was it you wanted to speak about?”

Harin chuckled at his obvious attempt to salvage the conversation, but she was gracious enough to let it slide. For that Dokja was extremely grateful. “You had some very poignant thoughts on the bill I presented today. I was wondering if you’d be available to work through some of the kinks with me? I want to put in a couple more hours this afternoon.” 

Dokja considered Harin for a moment, stunned. She was still brimming with energy, after multiple hours of presentation and debate. It was truly admirable. He ignored the scowling Joonghyuk huffing impatiently behind him, and focused on the duchess in front of him. Dokja gave her a tilted smile, unable to resist the urge to banter just a little bit more. “I would be honored, Duchess, but unfortunately I am but an advisor. The esteemed Duke Joonghyuk will be much more useful than I will.”

A beat of silence as Harin stared at him in disbelief, and then she burst out laughing. Dokja couldn’t help but chuckle as well. Joonghyuk rolled his eyes, but stayed silent. Dokja turned to face him, still smiling.

“I know it’s late, Duke, but would you permit me to aid Duchess Harin with this task?” 

Joonghyuk sighed, but nodded. “Let’s go then,” he grumbled, and started toward a small side door with a round table inside. Dokja shook his head ruefully, but followed the grumpy man into the room.

Harin watched them with interest. “Inseparable,” she muttered. 

Before they had time to settle, a knock sounded at the door as it opened. A scrawny man with greying hair cleared his throat and bowed anxiously. “Duke Joonghyuk, you have a summons from the King.”

Dokja cast a quick glance over at the Duke, who’s glare had deepened. “Now?” He growled. Dokja cleared his throat, and when Joonghyuk looked his way, he threw the man a warning look. A look that said don’t fuck this up for us .

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk stalked down the halls of the palace. The steward scurried ahead of him, casting nervous glances Joonghyuk’s way every few paces. Joonghyuk tried to find it in himself to feel bad for the man, but the only thing on his mind was Dokja, whom he had left alone. With Harin. A likeable and moral individual. His scowl deepened.

After what felt like an eternity, the steward paused outside the throne room, bowing deeply and gesturing for Joonghyuk to enter. The brooding man didn’t even pause before pushing open the doors with his standard irreverence. The hall inside was empty but for attendants flitting about with trays, some carrying food, others carrying letters, all orbiting around the throne like planets around the sun. King Haneul lounged on his throne, the picture of ease. In his previous life, Joonghyuk had been an asteroid perpetually seeking an escape. He’d get far enough to think he was free, but each time was inevitably pulled back by the King’s gravity. This time around, though, as he strained against the king’s influence, he had fallen into the gravitational field of another star. One on a collision course with the King. And in spite of himself, Joonghyuk was quite content with his current orbit.

Joonghyuk knelt when he reached the King, and muttered a greeting. He waited to be told to rise. And waited. The seconds stretched into minutes, and still the king showed no sign of acknowledging the Duke’s presence. Joonghyuk grit his teeth, staring intently at the rich red of the carpet. His brow furrowed. Not a pawn , he had to remind himself. Not anymore .

Still staring at the carpet, Joonghyuk fought the urge to turn his head when he heard a door open and slam shut. Someone else had entered the hall. Their footsteps were fast, uneven. It was a welcome disruption to the elegance of the stewards. Still Joonghyuk kept his head down. He would give the King no reason to believe him disobedient. Not yet.

When the footsteps finally stopped. “Father. What is this?”

Joonghyuk couldn’t help his jolt of surprise. The voice was low, even, and filled with venom. Joonghyuk heard the king shuffle about on his throne before he deigned to respond. “Ah, Juwon my son, took you long enough. Joonghyuk, you may rise.” 

“If I’d known you were going to make the poor man kneel the whole time, I might have acted with a bit more urgency.”

Joonghyuk scowled, but gingerly stood up, albeit a bit shakily. His leg had fallen asleep. He stole a glance at the person standing beside him. Juwon was the spitting image of Seolhwa, if a bit younger. Logically, Joonghyuk knew that this was the king’s son, but something about the way Juwon held themself made him hesitant to call them a…man. Curiosity sparked in his chest. Joonghyuk couldn’t explain it, but when their eyes met, something passed between them. A recognition of sorts. Juwon's eyes widened a fraction, and they looked away first.

The King observed this interaction with amusement.

“Well no matter, you’re here now. Joonghyuk, you’ve heard of my son.”

Joonghyuk nodded. The King laughed.

“A man of few words, I’m afraid,” he said, leaning toward Juwon conspiratorially.

Juwon remained silent. A beat passed. The King sighed.

“Such stubborn men, the both of you.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “At least you have that in common. Go to the garden or the library or some such place. Get to know each other. With Seolhwa abandoning her duties, we must pursue other avenues of ensuring our dear Duke of the North is compensated for his service to his country.”

Joonghyuk saw Juwon’s fists clench out of the corner of his eye, and gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. Juwon must have seen it, because they relaxed their hands, bowed, and gestured for Joonghyuk to follow them to the library. Joonghyuk followed, trying to push down his own anger. Whatever camaraderie they had found in that single glance, it was clear neither could afford to disobey a direct order from the King. They both needed to play their roles. Just for a little longer.

When the doors of the library slammed shut behind them, and the two were finally left alone, Juwon’s shoulders sagged. They gestured for Joonghyuk to sit at a table. Joonghyuk complied, still studying the person in front of him. Juwon sat opposite him, and let out a sigh. “Well this has gone poorly.”

Joonghyuk scoffed. “An understatement, Your Highness.”

Juwon cracked a small smile, and leaned forward. “I knew I’d like you. So we’re in agreement then? About my father’s proposal?”

Joonghyuk felt the tension bleed out of him. “Total.”

“You must really adore my sister.”

Joonghyuk barely held back a flinch. His mind was racing – how was he supposed to react? His initial reflex was to tell Juwon that they were right, that he did adore Seolhwa, to avoid suspicion. But that spark of recognition… Joonghyuk gathered his thoughts, then spoke as deliberately as he could. He supposed if he fucked this up, Dokja would just have to use that gift of his to talk their way out. “You’ve misunderstood, Your Highness. She is admirable, and an excellent physician, but a relationship between us wouldn’t make either of us…happy.”

Juwon breathed out an “ahh.” But they didn’t say anything more, and soon the tension was back, coiling in Joonghyuk’s gut as he waited. Juwon seemed to study him, although what they were searching for, Joonghyuk couldn’t guess. 

Finally, Juwon spoke. “You recognize his ploy then?”

The King’s. Joonghyuk nodded.

“And you have no interest in Seolhwa.”

“Not in the romantic sense, Your Highness.”

“So you’re not an idiot and you’re queer, how delightful.”

Joonghyuk choked back a cough. His eyebrow twitched. “That’s presumptuous.”

Juwon laughed. Joonghyuk could do nothing but stare as Juwon wiped their eyes, and leaned forward once more. “Forgive me, but I feel there’s no need to beat around the bush anymore. You’re clearly already figured me out, and no good would come from me pretending I haven’t gotten you figured out as well. Now that we’ve found our shared ground, why don’t we build upon it?”

Joonghyuk was still as stone, brain working overtime to understand the nuances of Juwon’s claims. He spoke slowly. Better to be careful than dead. “Our shared ground, Your Highness?”

Juwon waved a hand. “Oh, you may not have the words for it, but you’ve referred to me as nothing but ‘Your Highness’ our entire conversation. No ‘sir’, no “prince Juwon”. Very atypical. But let me put your worries to rest. I am neither a man nor a woman, and I have no desire to marry you or to claim the throne. Now,” they steepled their hands together, grinning at Joonghyuk, “I have trusted you with my treasonous secret, and you have trusted me with yours – more or less. May we do away with the word games and speak plainly now?”

It took everything Joonghyuk had to not laugh hysterically. He let a small smile slip. “I would like that.”

“Excellent. So, who is that advisor of yours really , and what are you two plotting?” Immediately afterward, Juwon perked up as if a thought had just occurred to them. They pointed an accusing finger at Joonghyuk and dropped their voice to a mock whisper. “ No , is he the reason you have no interest in Seolhwa?”

Joonghyuk felt his neck going red. Much as he liked Juwon, he couldn’t keep up with them at all. “I…This could be a rather long story, Your Highness.”

Juwon shrugged and leaned back, propping their feet up on the table. “Harin’s already sent word that you two have an unusual relationship, so don’t even think of lying to me, Duke.” They threw a mock glare at Joonghyuk, but their eyes sparkled with mischief. 

Joonghyuk gave out a breathy scoff. He couldn’t help it. “I fear the two of you would get along.”

“I’m sure we would. Now please, do go on.”

And Joonghyuk did. He told them almost everything. About the letters, his growing respect for the Demon King, the ball, the poisoning, the basics of their plans for revenge. Their hope that by working together to reform the kingdom, the prophecy would be fulfilled. He briefly wondered how wise it was to out Dokja’s identity, but he hadn’t had enough time to think of a solid lie. He was bad at lying. So instead, he focused his mental efforts on concealing his and Dokja’s past. He may have slathered it on a bit thick when he spoke of their reluctance to kill each other, but he told himself it was necessary. He couldn’t very well tell Juwon about their past lives. That was one aspect of all this that he knew he’d need to figure out with Dokja before he went speaking about it.

Juwon listened intently, commenting every now and again, but was for the most part content to let Joonghyuk tell the story. Joonghyuk was glad for this – he didn’t know how well he’d be able to handle their questions. Their intelligence set him on edge.

When he had finally relayed their plan, and Seolhwa’s part in it, Juwon was back to beaming. “That Demon King of yours is quite the clever man. If you truly plan to put Seolhwa on the throne, then know that you have my and my people’s full support.” A shadow flitted across Juwon’s face, and their smile fell. “I just have one favor to ask of you and your mastermind. When you achieve it – when Seolhwa sits on the throne and you’ve taken down the temple – I need you to make me and Harin disappear.”

Joonghyuk opened his mouth, ready to reassure them that there was no need for them to disappear, but the look in Juwon’s eyes stopped him. This wasn’t a request made lightly. 

Understanding dawned. “Your father knows, doesn’t he?”

Juwon did not sag, but they did scowl at the floor. “Yes, he knows. The only reason he hasn’t disposed of her is because he can’t risk the backlash from the temple if they find out about me. As far as anyone else knows,” they spat bitterly, “it’s a normal relationship between a man and a woman.” 

“And Harin is okay with leaving behind her estate?”

“You may talk to her about it if you wish. She’s working on succession laws right now, and she has two younger sisters that she’s personally teaching in hopes that they’ll take her place. This kingdom has made the both of us weary.”

Joonghyuk could believe that. Even the small amount of scrutiny he had gotten from the temple had been enough to mess with his head, with his life. He couldn’t imagine what Juwon had had to deal with.

He nodded. “We’ll make it happen.”

Juwon smiled lightly, then stood. “I suppose we’ve spent enough time together for now. Go get back to your Demon King. And Joonghyuk?”

“Yes?”

“If you want to rile up the temple and the king in one fell swoop, may I suggest finding a lover? Perhaps one who could also use a solid alibi as to why he was suddenly made an advisor?”

Instantly, Joonghyuk felt like his face was on fire. He managed to choke out a pitiful “I’ll…discuss it.” 

Juwon laughed, and Joonghyuk stayed where he was, face aflame and fists clenched, as Juwon’s laughter echoed down the hall as they left.

Chapter Text

Dokja paced in front of the Duke’s desk, his mind spinning. He and Harin had spent the better part of the past week coming up with a solid plan of attack for the meeting later today, but it would all ride on Joonghyuk’s ability to introduce it. This normally wouldn’t concern Dokja, as he had grown to trust the cold man, but Joonghyuk hadn’t been there when they discussed it. Not that he hadn’t tried. But between his duties to the North, and how often he was called to the palace, there hadn’t been much time to prepare him. Sure, he knew what he had to do and they had drilled him for his part, but Dokja was worried that he had forgotten to mention an important detail. 

An exasperated voice put his spiraling on hold. “Stop.” 

Dokja’s head snapped up to meet Joonghyuk’s gaze. The Duke had been watching him go back and forth for half an hour and was done with it. Dokja, after a pause, grinned at him. “Apologies, dear duke. I was simply-” He broke off into laughter as Joonghyuk’s gaze turned into a glare. 

As Dokja calmed himself, he noticed that the intensity of Joonghyuk’s glare had lessened, but only just. He looked as if he was about to say something but was cut off as a heavy knock sounded at the door. 

The same steward that had summoned Joonghyuk to the castle a week ago was at the door, bowing the same way he had before. “The King is ready to begin the meeting now, Duke Joonghyuk.” 

Immediately Dokja’s previous anxieties increased tenfold. As Joonghyuk acknowledged the steward’s message, Dokja went through the plan once more in his head. He didn’t realize he had started pacing again until the Duke had his hand on Dokja’s shoulder and had turned him around so they stood face to face. 

“Stop.” 

Dokja sighed and smiled apologetically, but Joonghyuk’s eyes just narrowed further. 

“Why now?”

He must not have hidden his confusion very well because Joonghyuk rolled his eyes and pushed Dokja down to sit on a chair before elaborating.

“You’re usually calm. Why now are you panicking?”

Dokja blinked. Calm? Did he really look calm to Joonghyuk? He always panicked like this before a big meeting. It’s how he was always able to maintain his composure during the meeting in itself. He had already gone through the panic beforehand. But would Joonghyuk understand if he said that? Or would he be met with a blank face like so many other occasions in the past? 

He looked up to meet Joonghyuk’s gaze, and forced a smile for possibly the first time since they had met in this lifetime. “As much as I would love to continue this conversation, we should get going. Can’t be late, not to a meeting like this.” 

He saw a brief moment of emotion cross Joonghyuk’s face before he scoffed dismissively, and moved to the door. As Dokja crossed the room, his mind felt slower than ever. What had that emotion been? Pain? Confusion? Anger? Dokja forced the question out of his mind as he opened the door and waited for Joonghyuk to leave. 

A couple hours later, the conversation was forgotten. The meeting had gone well, Joonghyuk and Harin had effectively countered the church’s complaints about the bill, with only a minor hesitation here and there. Dokja played a small role, only there to give Joonghyuk cues, and thankfully drew minimal attention from the representatives of each major faction.

Dokja had scanned the table as the nobles debated, carefully categorizing each person in attendance into one of the five factions – The South, the North, The Archive, The Church, and The King. As the meeting continued, he was able to add to the information in his head on each of the participants.

Once the meeting had been dismissed, Joonghyuk led the way out of the hall, with Dokja and Harin following behind, conversing about what had just occurred. Dokja wasn’t completely sure, but something about how the Duke held himself as he walked told him that he wasn’t quite comfortable with something. His role in the meeting, perhaps. Or the fact that the church’s high priest had been glaring at him the entire time. Or maybe- Dokja forced an abrupt end to the thought. What the Duke was thinking about was none of his concern.  

He brought his attention back to Harin, who was talking excitedly about the moment that they had countered the church’s argument.

 “...and did you see the look on the high priest’s face? Priceless!” 

Dokja smiled. “He looked as if he wished to kill us.”

“He was furious.”

The two fell silent as they saw a priest round the corner in front of them and head towards the meeting hall behind them. They shared glances. 

“Weren’t all of the priests supposed to be in the meeting?”

Harin shrugged. “Maybe they’re a lower level one.They’re secretive, but it’s not hard to see that the lower tier disciples are treated more like servants than priests.”

Dokja gave a ‘tsk’, and shook his head. Internally, he filed this information away for future use. “Wouldn’t put it past the church to do something like that.”

The duchess shook her head, her previous mischievous look had been replaced by a grimace. “Me neither.”

They looked up as a particularly loud sigh came from Joonghyuk. Sharing another glance with Harin, Dokja sped up to walk beside him. 

“Everything alright, Duke Joonghyuk?”

A scowl was set on the man’s face, and his eyes were stuck glaring in front of him. Dokja looked back at Harin, who shrugged, before falling behind to walk beside her again. 

As they reached the main entrance to the castle, Dokja caught up with Joonghyuk once more, this time to confirm something. He waited until the Duke looked at him before throwing a meaningful glance toward Harin. Joonghyuk looked at the Duchess, who was grinning knowingly at them, then looked back to see Dokja’s questioning gaze. He nodded, and Dokja went back to Harin. 

“Duchess Harin, would you be able to come over to Duke Joonghyuk’s residence later this evening? There’s something we need to discuss.”

Harin raised an eyebrow, but thankfully seemed to understand that the topic shouldn’t be talked about where so many hostile ears could hear. She nodded, smiling. 

“Sure, is seven okay?”

Dokja matched her smile. “That will be just fine.”

“Then I’ll see you two at seven.”

With those last words, Harin turned towards her residence and left with a wave. 

Only an hour had passed, and yet Dokja couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off the clock. It ticked agonizingly slowly, though he knew in reality it was ticking as fast as it always had. It frustrated him, how time seemed to move so slowly when something important was about to happen. His hands twitched. Usually he filled the time by either gardening or painting, but neither was available to him at the moment. So he sat and stared, urging the hands of the clock to move faster. 

He did this for another 30 minutes or so before there was a knock and one of Joonghyuk’s servants appeared at the door to announce Duchess Harin’s arrival. Dokja let out a sigh and stretched out his hands, which had begun to cramp in their fists under his chin. He stood and, nodding to Joonghyuk, told the servant to let the duchess in. 

In the few moments it would take for the servant to lead Harin to the office, Dokja went to go stand near Joonghyuk, who had been at his desk doing paperwork. A corner of Dokja’s mouth twitched into a small smile. Maybe he should have offered to help him. At the very least, it would have given him something to do. 

As his thoughts were wandering to the state of his garden, Harin came in and sat in one of the chairs facing the desk. He reluctantly filed the thoughts of his flowers away and smiled at Harin.

“Welcome to Duke Joonghyuk’s estate”

Harin smirked. “You’re even talking for him now, how romantic.”

Dokja laughed awkwardly, but pressed forward. He worried that if he stopped now, he’d never get the conversation over with. “Before we begin, are you certain that there aren’t any devices on you? I hear this kingdom has a couple of artifacts that can record information?”

Harin raised an eyebrow at ‘this kingdom’ but shook her head. “I’m positive that I don’t have anything like that.”

Dokja nodded and took a breath before looking at Joonghyuk. “Shall we?”

At Joonghyuk’s nod, Dokja reached into his coat and produced his crown. He presented it to Harin, watching her reactions like a hawk. “I’m sure you know what this is?”

Harin’s eyes widened, and her hand went to the sword at her side. Before she could even begin to draw it, Joonghyuk had stepped in front of Dokja. He held his sword at his side, but he made no move to attack. Dokja watched in mild surprise as instead, the Duke spoke in a calm, low voice. “Please. We’ve already told Juwon. They’ve agreed to help us.”

For a moment, Dokja worried that this was all going to go horribly wrong. Peeking around Joonghyuk’s large frame, he could see that Harin had not taken her hand off of her sword. Her eyes still shone with suspicion. But she seemed to register what Joonghyuk said, because she took a long, deep breath. “They told you?”

Joonghyuk nodded. 

“And you told them.”

Joonghyuk nodded again.

Harin turned her attention to Dokja, who had edged sideways so as not to be completely blocked off from the conversation. When she spoke, there was no trace of camaraderie or trust in her voice. Not anymore.

“Alright, I’m listening. You’re the demon king. What are you doing here?” At the end of her question, her eyes flicked unconsciously back to the scowling Joonghyuk. She didn’t say it, but Dokja could tell there was a silent with him at the end.

Dokja put his crown back in his coat. “I am the 73rd demon king, Kim Dokja. I’m here to make sure the King reaps what he sowed.”

Harin’s eyes showed her confusion. “You’re going to need to be a lot more specific if you want my help.”

Joonghyuk’s scowl deepened, somehow. “The bastard tried to kill his kid. She’s barely a year old.”

Harin was silent for a minute. Dokja could tell she was thinking it through. Doing the mental calculations. Then she cursed softly under her breath. “This is about the prophecy, then.”

Dokja gave her a tired smile. “I’m afraid so.” 

Harin cursed again, louder this time, rubbing her forehead in frustration. Joonghyuk relaxed his stance as she took her hand off of her weapon. Harin didn’t notice. “I knew that fool of a king would do something reckless, but this? What is he trying to do, start a war with the entire Demon Realm?”

Dokja blinked twice, then said, “Yes.”

Harin dropped her hand from her face and looked at him in shock. “That’s…extremely stupid.”

“I’m inclined to agree.”

Harin furrowed her brow, and stared at the ground. It took another minute for her to look up at them again. “So, why tell me? What’s your plan, and how do I fit into it?” 

Dokja nodded. He figured she’d ask that. “Unfortunately, Joonghyuk is the only inside man I have, and we can only do so much by ourselves. In order to do what I’m planning, we’ll need to get past the church and whatever protection the King has.”

Harin narrowed her eyes. “Wait a moment. What kind of revenge are we talking about? The silent kind, where no one can trace it back to us, or the loud kind.”

Dokja grinned. “You’ve come to know me over the past week or so, Harin. We both know I’m far too dramatic to stay in the shadows.”

Understanding dawned in Harin’s eyes before she looked down in thought. “I suppose just killing the King wouldn’t do much,” She mused, “when he’s got that network of loyalists.” She looked back up at Dokja, tilting her head to the side. “So you’re planning to completely restructure the kingdom, aren’t you.”

“That’s right. And Joonghyuk and I will need your’s, and the…” Dokja trailed off, searching for the right word, before shrugging. “Seolhwa’s sibling’s, help to do so. Now,” Dokja steepled his hands together, determined to pull at the thread that had been proffered to him. “You mentioned some sort of network?”

Harin gave a long-suffering sigh, but nodded. “I hope you’re ready for a long night,” she directed her statement at Joonghyuk, who had resumed his place just behind Dokja. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk watched as Dokja paced. Again. To his credit, each turn was rhythmic. Joonghyuk, who had been trying to focus on the papers in front of him, was constantly distracted by the even thump, thump, thump , shhh of Dokja’s boots on the carpet. He furrowed his brow in irritation, glaring at the words on the page as if he could force them to register in his brain. It didn’t work. So with an exasperated sigh, he threw the paper down on his desk. And then he just watched. Dokja kept his even pace, eyes rooted on the floor three inches in front of his feet. It frustrated Joonghyuk, to see him this way. Mostly because he couldn’t stand the fact that Dokja felt the need to keep all of his plotting private.

“You’re doing it again.”

With a jolt, Dokja came to a stop. Joonghyuk would never claim to be a master of facial expressions, but he was pretty sure that the Demon King was annoyed. “My apologies. It’s late, I’ll take my leave.”

Joonghyuk stood with such urgency that his chair was knocked back. “Wait.”

And Doka did, looking at him expectantly.

Mind racing, Joonghyuk blurted out, “Have you ever played chess?”

Dokja cocked his head curiously, “I haven’t. What kind of game is it?”

Joonghyuk, relieved, gestured towards a small round table set by the window of his office, where a chessboard sat. “A strategic one. I’ll teach you?” He didn’t mean for his voice to raise at the end – hadn’t wanted to come off as begging for the man’s attention – but it was beyond his control. Joonghyuk could see the interest sparked in Dokja’s eyes, and took it to mean he would stay. The Duke began the methodical task of resetting all of the pieces, keeping one of each to use as a demonstration. Dokja watched with curiosity. Once they were all arranged, he let Dokja scour the board. Eventually, he looked up at Joonghyuk.

“What’s the objective?”

As Joonghyuk launched into an explanation and demonstration of the game, Dokja listened intently. His eyes darted back and forth between the pieces Joonghyuk was moving around, and the rest of the board. Joonghyuk was pleased by this, he had had an inkling – given the Demon King’s seemingly perfect intuition – that the strategy involved would pique his interest. When the demonstrations were done, Joonghyuk reset the pieces once more, and rotated the board so that Dokja had the white pieces in front of him.

“Would you like to try and play?” He asked.

Joonghyuk’s lips twitched into something of a smile when Dokja nodded eagerly, already moving his first piece forward. For a while, the only sound that could be heard was the clacking of the marble pieces against the chessboard, Joonghyuk murmuring “checkmate”, and a frustrated sigh from Dokja as they reset the pieces. By their fourth match, each was taking longer to choose their next move. As content as Joonghyuk would usually be to play in silence, Dokja was dangerously close to figuring out how to win. And, perhaps more importantly, he hadn’t started this just to play chess. He caught sight of Dokja’s leg bouncing beneath the table as he contemplated the board.

Right . He thought. The pacing. His lips twitched into a smile again. Might as well kill two birds with one stone.

Dokja had just finished placing his piece, and his attention rose from the board. He must have caught the end of Joonghyuk’s grin, because he pointed an accusing finger at the Duke. “That. What was that?” The Demon King looked at the board frantically. “What did I miss this time?”

Joonghyuk gave a short, airy laugh, then leaned over the board once more. “Nothing. It was a good move.” He carefully considered his options, and moved a piece forward. Then he glanced up at Dokja, whose brow had furrowed. Maybe it was the unguarded look in the Demon King’s eyes, or maybe it was just because of the late hour, but Joonghyuk couldn’t help himself from blurting out, “What were you thinking about?”

Dokja looked at him with confusion. “What, just now? I was thinking about how my bishop —”

“No. Before. You were pacing again.”

Joonghyuk watched as Dokja seemed to deflate in his chair with an exaggerated sigh. Always the actor.

Dokja waved his hand flippantly. “It was nothing, really. Just a…a stress response. Usually I have weeds to take it out on.”

Joonghyuk gave a quick nod, letting silence fall once more while Dokja took his next move. He made a quick mental note to figure that out later.

Joonghyuk looked up as Dokja let out an “Aha!”. The Demon King pointed triumphantly at the board. “Checkmate!”

Joonghyuk gave a scoff-laugh, then stood up to lean over the table as he pointed to his king. “It’s not a checkmate if I’m able to get out of it. It would just be a check.” The Duke moved his piece with confidence, then sat back down and tried to hold in a laugh at the sight of Kim Dokja, the 73rd Demon King, pouting.

“No, this is good, look.” Joonghyuk pointed towards his knight. “You just need to change your mindset. Not all of your pieces are allies, and neither are all of mine. The best way to checkmate the king is by using his supports against him. If you trap my knight here,” Joonghyuk paused to move the pieces into the proper places, “it limits the places my king can go. It’s a losing battle from there, really.”

Dokja studied the board intently. Pursed his lips, then looked up at Joonghyuk with a spark of something dangerous in his eyes. Joonghyuk wanted to lean forward. Wanted to get a closer look.

“That’s it,” Dokja was practically vibrating. “That’s it. We’ll pit the temple and the King against each other. Each will weaken the other for us, which means we can focus on eliminating the other supports while they’re distracted.” 

Dokja moved his bishop to capture one of Joonghyuk’s rooks. “The only question is how do we pit them against each other?”

Joonghyuk cleared his throat, remembering his conversation with Juwon. “About that…the king has been trying to set me up with Juwon. Juwon suggested that we provide you a better alibi, while also needling the temple and the king.”

Dokja raised an eyebrow. “And how did they suggest we do that?”

Joonghyuk forced the words out before they got stuck in his throat. “A courtship.”

There was silence. Of all possible results, this scared Joonghyuk the most. He had imagined Dokja laughing it off, or scoffing, or getting flustered, or shutting the whole idea down. But this silence…He lifted his gaze from the board, only to find Dokja staring at him intently. The other man seemed to be searching for something. Joonghyuk was at a loss, but he held eye contact. Didn’t back down. Even when he felt the back of his neck heat. 

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, a smirk graced Dokja’s lips. “That,” he said, “just might work.” Joonghyuk felt his head go fuzzy as the Demon King laughed. “It’s really clever!” The fervor was back in his eyes as he knocked over Joonghyuk’s king with his bishop. “Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll have Juwon and Harin flaunt their relationship – make it seem like things are getting serious between them. As far as the temple knows, that’s a relationship they can get behind! So the priests will be backing Juwon’s claim to the throne. Meanwhile, we’ll let it slip that we’re courting. That way the King is forced to choose. He either keeps the temple’s support by backing Juwon – but loses his chance to subdue the North –, or loses the temple’s support by pushing even harder for your marriage.”

Joonghyuk nodded thoughtfully, tracking Dokja’s logic with ease. “He’s already shown in previous councils that he has little regard for the temple’s agenda. Really he should be his own downfall.”

“Right! We’ll need to run the specifics by Juwon and Harin, of course, but given their cooperation thus far I’m not too worried about it. Juwon doesn’t want the throne anyway, this will be a good opportunity for them to worsen their stance, so to speak.” Dokja suddenly sat up straight and pointed at Joonghyuk triumphantly. “And that’s when we bring in Seolhwa – when the political climate is all muddied.”

“She’ll be a beacon for them all to flock to.”

“Precisely. All we need to do is create as much chaos as possible.”

Joonghyuk hummed in assent and leaned back in his chair. “Only problem is that network Harin was talking about.”

Dokja let out an ‘ah’.

“That spy master of yours – Donghoon?” Joonghyuk questioned. Dokja looked at him quizzically, but nodded. “He’s discreet. He’s loyal. He knows the business. Let us take care of it.”

Dokja raised an eyebrow. “Us?” he parroted.

Joonghyuk inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I’ll only be a hindrance at these social functions, that’s your domain. We’ll split up and cover more ground. You can start spreading rumors, and Donghoon and I will take care of the guild for you.”

Dokja seemed to hesitate, stiff and awkward where moments before he had been lively. Relaxed. 

“I won’t let anything happen to him. If you don’t want him to go, that's perfectly fine as well.” Joonghyuk added gently. 

Dokja started to speak, then stopped. He still looked conflicted, although Joonghyuk couldn’t fathom why. Eventually, the Demon King shook his head as if trying to clear it out, and said, “No, no. Donghoon’s one of my best. I’d feel better if he went with you.”

Joonghyuk’s walls snapped back up into place, but not before something twisted inside him. What was that supposed to mean? Did Dokja still not trust him? He nodded once, sharply, but said nothing.

The Demon King glanced up quickly, head tilted to the side. Their eyes met. Joonghyuk looked away first. He couldn’t help the bitterness that seeped into his words. “I’ll protect him like one of my own.” Not trusting himself to speak further, Joonghyuk reached to rearrange the chess pieces.

Dokja’s hand snapped out, grabbing him by the wrist. Joonghyuk, stunned, simply looked at their hands for a moment, before looking up.

“As impressive as you are,” The Demon King spoke slowly, “not even you could take on an assassin’s guild alone.”

Joonghyuk’s anger flared again, and he tried to tug his arm back. Now he was questioning his competence as a warrior? As if Joonghyuk had not built his life, his reputation, on warfare? But Dokja’s grip only tightened. “No,” The Demon King said, and the word was filled with such authority, and so much frustration, that Joonghyuk forgot to keep pulling. The sudden lack of resistance caused the slim man to pull Joonghyuk forward. Chess pieces scattered to the floor, the muted thuds of marble on carpet the only sound in the room as Joonghyuk was forced to bring his other hand down on the table in an effort to steady himself. Still Dokja did not let go.

When Joonghyuk finally looked Dokja in the eyes, he hadn’t quite convinced his glare to leave his face. Dokja didn’t seem fazed. In fact, the Demon King was glaring back at him.

“ Listen to me, Joonghyuk. I know exactly how competent you are.” Joonghyuk flinched, remembering a cold night. A cliff. Dokja pressed on. “I won’t let you go in there alone. And since I can’t go with you, I’m sending the next best thing. I’m not sending him to babysit you.”

They stayed like that for a moment – Joonghyuk being pulled so far forward he had to lean over the table, Dokja leaning forward just enough that his grip wasn’t painful. Slowly, Joonghyuk’s glare softened. Relief washed across Dokja’ face, and his grip lightened. Joonghyuk slowly righted himself. He couldn’t meet Dokja’s gaze. Not again.

“...Thank you,” he murmured, bending to retrieve the chess pieces.

Dokja said nothing, just knelt to help him. They collected and reset the pieces in silence, and although Joonghyuk was painfully aware that something had shifted, he couldn’t quite place what it was. He felt closer to Dokja, closer than ever before, and yet somehow further away. When the board was reset, the two of them just stood, neither seeming to want to take the initiative to leave. 

Joonghyuk couldn't – wouldn’t – leave it like this. It felt so close to something good, and right, but it was still… wrong . He took a deep breath, then dragged the seat out once more and settled down. He glanced up at Dokja. “One more match?”

Dokja, whose glare had never quite faded, let out a breathy laugh. His glare was replaced with a grin. He accepted the olive branch. Sat down.

“One more match.”

Chapter Text

Dokja watched as Joonghyuk corrected the alignment of a pawn on the chessboard. They had just finished another match, with Joonghyuk winning, and it was time to start setting their plan in motion. 

Taking a deep breath, Dokja moved towards the door. He could feel his ears begin to burn as he went through the plan in his head, and he shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. He wondered if it would still affect him like this if that bastard wasn’t as handsome as he is. 

He hesitated, glancing at Joonghyuk, before opening the door. As he exited the office, a faint “Good luck” reached his ears and he smiled. Joonghyuk seemed more affected by this plan than Dokja was. Perhaps because he had been the one to propose it? 

Dokja let out a sigh and quickened his pace in yet another attempt to clear his mind. As he reached the room that Joonghyuk had given him, he set about preparing for the upcoming party. To hopefully sell the illusion that Joonghyuk was giving him some sort of special treatment, he put on one of his best outfits. He smiled softly as he realized that it was one of the outfits that the girls had snuck into his bags.

 For a brief moment, he wondered how everyone was doing back at the castle. He hoped the kids were doing well. And his garden. He desperately wanted to get back to his garden. But alas, politics. 

As he was adjusting the clasp to his quarter-length cape, there was a sharp knock at the door. Quickly, he checked his pocket watch. 7:40. Plenty of time to get to the party. He pulled open the door to see Harin. She smiled at him. 

“Ready to go?”

Returning the smile, he picked up a pair of earrings from the nearby nightstand. 

“If you help me put these on, I will be.”

Harin let out a breezy laugh and stepped forward to help him.
“Really, Duke Joonghyuk should be helping you with this. Preferably in a place that a gossiping servant could see.”

Dokja’s smile dropped slightly as he once again felt his ears begin to burn. That fucking bastard’s face. If Harin noticed his reddened ears, she didn’t say anything as she finished putting the small clasp on the top edge of his left ear. On his right he wore a simple stud, so as to not overcrowd the outfit in jewelry. 

Now done, Harin took a step back to admire her work and nodded. “Y’know, if you managed to sleep those eyebags away…You’d be quite the looker. Might even be on par with Duke Joonghyuk himself.”

Dokja chuckled. “I’ve heard that one a couple of times. But really, come on, who would ever be able to hold a candle to that Duke’s damn face.” 

Harin’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Wow. You really-”

“Oh, would you look at the time. We should really be going now if we don’t want to be late.”

Dokja smiled and led the way down the hall towards the front doors, where a carriage was waiting to drive them to the king’s ballroom. Fortunately, after they had discussed the plan and talked to Harin about it, she was able to get Juwon to host a banquet. Together they had decided that Dokja would come alone for the first couple of times, under the guise that Joonghyuk was busy, to spread the rumors before having them arrive together, hand in hand. 

Once they arrived, they parted ways to wait for the perfect opportunity. As Dokja wandered the ballroom, engaging in small conversation here and there, he began to make his way towards the center, where a few of Harin’s associates were chatting with a couple of nobles who were notorious for being gossipers. 

As a gap opened up in their circle, he slipped in and introduced himself, bowing slightly. 

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintances, dear nobles.”

One of the nobles- a man dressed in the rich greens of the capitol’s nobles- Smiled politely at him. “I’m afraid to say I don’t recognize you. Which region do you hail from?”

Matching his smile, Dokja came out of his bow. “I wouldn’t dare expect you to know me, good sir. I’m from a small noble family further north of here. I’d prefer if you thought of me simply as an advisor from the North.”

The man hummed in recognition. “Ah, you must be that swordsman’s advisor…Duke Joonghyuk? I heard he had gotten one recently.”

Dokja nodded. “I am indeed, sir. It’s on his behalf that I have attended today. Unfortunately, the Duke has been held up with preparations for the upcoming conference.”

After some murmured pleasantries, one of Harin’s associates spoke up. “I don’t mean to be rude, sir, but I’m sure we’re all curious as to how you became Duke Joonghyuk’s advisor? He’s gone without one for so long, you see, and for you to come from such a lowly noble household….”

He lowered his gaze, chuckling nervously. “Of course, ma’am. It doesn’t make much sense, does it? I served as a recorder in the court meetings for a time, and as fate would have it, I grew closer with the Duke.”

One of the nobles’ eyebrows shot up. “How close, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Dokja could feel his ears begin to burn again, and decided he would just use it to his advantage. Coughing lightly, he avoided meeting the circle’s gaze. “My lord…”

As he hesitated, another of Harin’s associates snapped her fan closed with a quick laugh. “Heavens! Don’t let the priests hear you!” Then, she leaned closer, conspiratorially. “I heard the two of you met in the gardens quite often?” A chorus of shocked noises came from the crowd of nobles surrounding them. She winked at Dokja, who had delicately lifted a gloved hand to cover his own shocked expression. "Quite the romantic rendezvous, was it not?”

“Where did you hear that?” Dokja let out another nervous chuckle as he recalled their moments in the garden, after a dance, at night, alone, lit only by the moon and an occasional lantern. He made a show of glancing around, as if afraid of being caught. “Please…I wouldn’t want to get the Duke in any sort of trouble with the church.”

One of the nobles that had been watching the exchange giggled. “Don’t worry! Your secret is safe with us. Those temple priests don’t know what they’re talking about anyway.” As the other nobles echoed their assent, a few of them excused themselves.

Dokja could tell that more than just his ears were red. Perhaps he was in too deep. Perhaps he should have thought this through a little bit more. Too late now. “Pardon me, but I’ll be taking my leave now. It has been an honor to meet with you.”

The other nobles in the circle nodded politely, all with various levels of amusement, and Dokja made his way back to the front, where he could see Harin chatting casually to more of her associates. She saw him coming across the floor and tilted her head at him. He nodded, and she smiled. 

The seeds had been planted. Over the course of the next month, there wouldn’t be a single noble who hadn’t heard about the “secret” relationship between Duke Joonghyuk and his advisor. 

As Dokja and Harin attended the next few banquets and festivals, more and more nobles came to inquire about Dokja’s relationship with his Duke, until finally the rumours reached the Southern nobles. These nobles, of course, went and told the Church. 

Of course, it was only a matter of time before the priests became aware of the rumors circulating. If the southern nobles hadn’t told them, someone else would’ve let it slip eventually. And so it was no great surprise when Dokja was confronted by one of these priests. He had been expecting this, and therefore wasn’t surprised when suddenly the nature of the conversation he was in turned from playful inquiries to degrading commentary. Finally, the priest started including god into his comments.

“Don’t you think your god would be upset that you, as a man , are with another man?”

Dokja scoffed lightly. “Where does it say that two men can’t be together? Not even your doctrine has a rule against it.”

The priest scowled. “Our doctrine clearly states that marriage will be between a man and a woman. ”

Dokja smiled. “Ah, but it never says that it can’t be between two men. In fact, the only thing it’s saying is that a man and a woman can get married. It never states that any other marriage is blasphemous.”

The priest sputtered, as if he was wounded. Frankly, it was quite amusing to Dokja. With a start, he realized that it was amusing to quite a few of the nobles around them as well. Maybe the church didn’t have as big of a chokehold on the nobles as he had been led to believe.

Eventually, the priest became too flustered to speak and ended up storming off to go ruin someone else’s conversation. It was safe to say that Dokja was quite pleased when a line of nobles came to pat him on the back for his battle with the priest. 

Once he had gotten back to Joonghyuk’s residence, instead of going and changing, he went straight to the Duke’s office. He opened the door, not bothering to knock, and smiled proudly. 

Joonghyuk looked up from the papers on his desk, his hair a mess from how many times he had run his hands through it. Dokja pretended not to notice how the Duke’s eyes caught on his outfit before meeting his gaze. 

“We’ve managed to get the church’s attention.”

Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow, setting his paper and quill down and leaning back in his chair to focus solely on Dokja.

“One of the priests confronted me and-”

Immediately Joonghyuk’s gaze turned into a glare. “Did they hurt you? Threaten you?”

Dokja blinked, then smiled. “No. But I did manage to provoke them. So…I was thinking that perhaps you might join me for the next one? I can’t keep making excuses for you.”

Joonghyuk paused, looked down at the mess of papers on his desk, and looked back up at him. Nodding slowly, he got up and moved towards his chess board. “Alright then. I’ll come with you next time.”

Dokja’s smile widened, and his eyes dropped from Joonghyuk’s head down to the board, set and waiting. “Time for a round?”

Joonghyuk tweaked a knight on the chessboard. “Always.”

Chapter Text

Joonghyuk slumped in his chair, running a hand through his hair and wishing he could take off his exhaustion like he could his coat. It had been a long and arduous ball, not made any easier by the fact that their main goal for the evening had been attempting to convince the gathering of nobles that he and Dokja were, in fact, in love. This proved to be harder than Joonghyuk had initially thought it would be. Perhaps the nobles were just bored, but they seemed hungry – for drama, for romance, for big acts of devotion and even small acts of betrayal. The gossip web was such a delicate thing. Joonghyuk couldn’t fathom how Dokja managed to spin it to his liking so well.

It was only a moment later that a knock sounded at the door. Donghoon popped his head in, and Joonghyuk motioned for him to come in.

“Duke Joonghyuk, the horses are ready.”

Joonghyuk sighed, pushed himself up, and rolled his shoulders back. He gave himself two seconds, just two seconds to be weary. Two long, slow, deep breaths. Then he grabbed his sword from where it leaned against the desk, strapped it to his side, and followed Donghoon to where the horses were saddled, awaiting their departure. 

They were headed towards a bar in one of the poorer districts of the capital. Joonghyuk had sat with Dokja and Harin for hours while Dokja extracted every piece of information he could on the King’s Guild. Nobles who were involved, either directly or through funding. Meeting places. Jobs they were involved with, confirmed or suspected. Landmark cases in the courts that influenced how much sway the law had over them, and how much it didn’t. Training academies, known recruits, and students expected to join their ranks in the coming years. Anything and everything Dokja could think of, he’d asked, and Harin had done her best to answer, but she didn’t know very much.

Mostly just that it was huge, and secretive.

Which was why Joonghyuk and Donghoon were being sent to track down specifics. What Harin had been able to provide was some common meeting points, places where nobles would go to get in contact with them – legally or otherwise. Apparently, the King’s Guild was willing to do pretty much anything as long as they got paid.

Tonight, he and Donghoon were tasked with figuring out what the hierarchy was within the King’s Guild. They needed to know who was giving the orders, and who was merely implementing them. Not, of course, that any of that would matter in the end. But it helps, when attempting to dissolve an entire network of people whose lives revolve around hiding their identities, to start with the person in charge. And so they were posing as buyers. To be completely honest, Joonghyuk wasn’t sure how well it would work. He clearly wasn’t a fabulous actor, and as he looked at Donghoon, he wasn’t sure that he would do very well either. 

As they mounted and started their journey, Joonghyuk resolved to do whatever was necessary to get Dokja the information he was seeking. He glanced at the spymaster riding beside him, just long enough to take in the furrow of his brow, the grim set of his face. Joonghyuk was relieved. He felt a camaraderie with Donghoon. They would both do whatever was necessary.

It was a silent ride. Neither of them said anything to the other, and the night was quiet except for the occasional chirp of crickets. This slowly began to change as they got closer to the heart of the Capitol. Lights became more frequent, and as they did, so did the people. Here and there crowds were gathered around the bars. Laughter and shouting replaced the crickets. Finally, Donghoon motioned for Joonghyuk to stop in front of a particularly rowdy bar. They dismounted, tying their horses to the wooden railing. Joonghyuk eyed a pair of very clearly drunken men who seemed far too interested in their horses. He shot them his best glare, and they stumbled away. Hopefully that would be enough. This would just have to be quick.

Steeling his nerves, he pushed open the doors. Inside it was chaos. Joonghyuk stalked through the crowd, and they parted for him. He glanced behind him once, but Donghoon had already managed to fade into the crowd. Good. He returned his attention to the barkeep, who looked rather unfazed at Joonghyuk’s presence. A good place to start, probably. Joonghyuk wasn’t exactly sure who one went to negotiate with when one wanted to acquire the services of a guild of assassins. Particularly not ones that belonged to the King. He wasn’t a fan of hiring other people to do his dirty work.

The barkeep barely looked up when Joonghyuk sat at the bar. “What can I do for ya?” He asked dismissively.

Joonghyuk slammed some gold coins down on the counter. Loud enough that the barkeep startled, and finally looked at him. Even sitting, Joonghyuk loomed over him. “I have some problems. The kind that need to be gotten rid of…discreetly.”

The barkeep smirked, albeit shakily. “Of course sir. Allow me to guide you to our more private rooms.”

The barkeep grabbed one of the servers and made them take over the bar while he led Joonghyuk into a room tucked away from all the ruckus. Joonghyuk kept himself from looking back for Donghoon – he didn’t need anyone knowing that he hadn’t come alone. Hopefully the spymaster had managed to find a vantage point that would allow him to keep tabs on the rest of the bar.

Once Joonghyuk was settled in the new room, the barkeep excused himself. Joonghyuk rapped his knuckles against the table, agitated. He better not be kept waiting long.

It hadn’t been more than a minute or two before the door swung open again, revealing a man, cloaked and hooded, who sat opposite Joonghyuk. The man was careful not to expose his face – all Joonghyuk saw was a flash of pale skin. The hooded figure spoke. “I hear you’re in need of our services, Duke Joonghyuk. What seems to be troubling you? And what are you willing to pay to be rid of it?”

Joonghyuk leaned forward, doing his best to sell his interest. “Money isn’t a problem. But I have a peculiar request. I trust you’ll keep this private?”

The figure nodded. “We wouldn’t have much of a business if we didn’t value secrecy above all, Duke.”

Joonghyuk made a show of glancing around, relaxing his posture. “I need to get rid of the King’s…son.” He tried not to hesitate at referring to Juwon as a man. Juwon had given the go ahead, saying in situations like this, it would be very unwise for Joonghyuk to refer to them as anything but a man.

The figure stood abruptly, knocking their chair to the floor. Despite their agitation, their voice was low and threatening. “Watch yourself, Duke Joonghyuk. We may be for hire, but we are still the King’s Guild.”

Joonghyuk leveled a steady gaze at the figure. “And if I could promise that this would ultimately be of benefit for the King?”

The figure didn’t let up, didn’t reconsider the way Joonghyuk – the way Dokja – had hoped they would. They rested a hand on the sword at their side. “You speak of treason. You may have a dukedom, but you are severely overstepping the bounds of your authority.” 

Joonghyuk looked amusedly at the figure. He leaned back, the picture of arrogance, completely at ease with the situation. He could tell it made the cloaked figure nervous. Good. “How very interesting of you to say, given your usual exploits. Don’t care much for the ‘bounds of your authority’ so long as you’re getting paid, isn’t that right?”

The figure didn’t respond, just drew their sword and immediately rushed for Joonghyuk. The duke was ducking out of the way, preparing to draw his own sword, when the figure came to a sudden stop and let out a strangled gasp. Not wasting a moment, Joonghyuk spun, putting himself behind the attacker. There was a dagger buried into their back. The blood spread from the wound, staining the back of their cloak.

Joonghyuk whirled around, searching for Donghoon, but there was no time. Four more cloaked figures were appearing around the corners, rushing towards him. Joonghyuk fought the urge to sigh. So much for subtlety. But oh well. He tensed, then relaxed as he felt Donghoon’s presence at his back. Joonghyuk tightened his grip on his sword. 

Between the two of them, they made short work of the King’s Guild, or at least of the few that had rushed to engage them. When Donghoon had finished with the last guard, silence seeped into the room. There was nothing to hear but their own heavy breathing. Joonghyuk clutched a long but shallow wound across his abdomen, and sent Donghoon a pointed look. “Not. A. Word of this reaches Dokja.”

Joonghyuk watched as something almost like a smile graced Donghoon’s face. It wasn’t kind. Instead, it held contempt, maybe an afterthought of amusement. “Not until we have what he needs,” the spymaster concurred. And Joonghyuk got the distinct impression that Donghoon wasn’t heeding his orders, or being cowered into submission. It was just that, for the moment, his and Joonghyuk’s interests were aligned. There was no question of where his loyalty really lay.

Joonghyuk nodded once, as if sealing the agreement, then turned his gaze to the men lying on the ground around them. Drawing himself back up to his full height, he finally managed to catch his breath. “So,” He growled, “Which one of you fools is going to tell us where to find your leader?”

The man closest to Donghoon whimpered as the spymaster kicked his side. Donghoon then dropped into a crouch beside him, pulled out one of his daggers and held it up to the man’s throat. “He asked you a question. You’d better answer.”

Joonghyuk watched the exchange, examined the proof of Donghoon’s proficiency around him, and felt a surge of satisfaction. Dokja hadn’t been lying when he’d said sending Donghoon was the next best thing.

Perhaps assuming that Joonghyuk’s interest in the commotion had drawn his full attention, one of the other guildsmen made a lunge for the doorway. Joonghyuk saw the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned sharply, planting his boot and the full weight of his body onto the coward’s outstretched hand. The man screamed, and Joonghyuk felt the brittle, fragile bones crunch. He grabbed the man by the front of his cloak and dragged him up, up until he was eye level. The man was trembling, clutching his broken hand, but Joonghyuk couldn’t care less. When he spoke, he addressed the whole room. “If you want to live, tell me something worth knowing.”

Between Joonghyuk’s brutality and Donghoon’s precision, they had the guildsmen singing in minutes. It didn’t take long for them to spill their secrets – in part because there wasn’t much that they knew. This, while aggravating, was a minor setback at best. They extracted enough for Donghoon to deduce what their next target was, and that was really all Joonghyuk needed. He dropped the guildsman, who managed to stay on his feet for an impressive 3 seconds before collapsing onto the ground once more.

A shared look and a nod from Donghoon was all it took for Joonghyuk to draw his sword again. They couldn’t afford to leave any witnesses. Couldn’t take the chance of one of them running off and alerting the others. Couldn’t have this getting back to Dokja.

When they finally left the bar, the front room was deserted. Donghoon had presumably cleared it before the commotion began. Thankfully, their horses were where they had left them, looking unbothered and unamused. They mounted and took off, leaving nothing but corpses behind.

Chapter Text

Dokja glared at the cabinet in front of him, searching for the box of medical supplies the duke told him would be in there. It took him longer than it should have to locate it – blinded by rage as he was – but he did, and brought it to where Joonghyuk was pressing at a shallow- but long– cut across his abdomen.

Somewhat aggressively, Dokja slammed the box down onto the Duke’s desk and rummaged through it until he found a bottle of disinfectant while, for about the hundredth time, Joonghyuk tried to get him to stop.

“It’s not bad.”

The Demon King rolled his eyes. “Not bad, you say, with a gaping wound across your entire body. I’m not just going to leave you to bleed out.”

“I could do it.”

“I’m sure you could. Let me see.”

Joonghyuk sighed and tilted his head back against the chair he was sitting on, moving his hand to the armrest so Dokja could clean the wound unobstructed. The Demon King grabbed a cotton ball from the box and soaked it slightly in the disinfectant. Once it was damp enough, he stiffly dragged one of the chairs from the chess table over to sit in front of the duke. With another glare directed at the bleeding wound across Joonghyuk’s chest, Dokja brought his arm up to start dressing the cut. Immediately, he froze as he saw the duke tense up in anticipation. As he glanced up, he saw that Joonghyuk was looking at him with a concerned expression, and in a slightly-subconscious attempt to calm him, he relaxed ever so slightly and went on to treat the gash.

As Dokja dabbed the wound gently with the disinfectant, he tried not to pay attention to how angry he had gotten at seeing the duke injured. Or how concerned he was now, while treating the wound. The Duke had told him it was a bar fight, but what kind of bar fight gives one of the world’s best knights a cut this long? 

Deep down, he knew that something must have happened with the guild. But he also knew that if Joonghyuk thought it would ruin their plans, he would have told Dokja. So he’d let it slide, if only because he was preoccupied with trying to ensure the Duke didn’t bleed out.

He felt himself becoming angry again as he reached for the bandages. Despite himself, he felt…slighted. The Duke had come straight to his office. He likely wasn’t planning to tell Dokja that he was injured at all. Did that mean he didn’t think that the Demon King was trustworthy? Did he not feel they were getting closer, as Dokja had felt over the past weeks? Was he afraid of being vulnerable? 

He sighed. It wasn’t often that he met someone he couldn’t read well. Sometimes, the Duke was an open book. But others…Dokja sighed again. It was times like these that he would turn to his garden, where the kids would likely join him or run around the courtyard. He smiled softly. 

Joonghyuk, who had been both silent and still while Dokja was treating him, apparently noticed this sudden smile. 

“What.”

Dokja looked up, confusion written on his face. “What what.”

Joonghyuk sighed 

“You were smiling.”

The Demon King raised an eyebrow. 

“Do I not smile often?”

“You were glaring at me a minute ago.”

Dokja shrugged. “I was thinking about the kids. It’s been a while since I left, and they’ve been on my mind lately.” He stood, his job now finished, and set about packing up the medical supplies. “I hope they’re doing fine there without me. Letters once a week are hardly enough to know how they’re fairing.”

As he went to put the box back where he had found it, he heard Joonghyuk begin to stand up and whirled around. “Don’t you dare. Sit back down now. I don’t care what work you think you have. I refuse to let you do anything but rest for now.”

The Duke was looking at Dokja, frozen in a half standing position. He seemed to be contemplating something, but after a few seconds sat back down. 

“If you’d like…”

Dokja turned back to finish putting the box away before walking back over to the Duke’s desk. 

“If I’d like what.”

“I could send a carriage down. They could come visit. The knights, I think, will be more than happy to bring them and have a trip home.”

He looked as if he was going to say more, but stopped as he saw the sudden excitement written on Dokja’s face. 

“Right now would be the perfect time, before the chaos truly begins, and after the bigger meetings. It would be perfect! The knights get to see their homeland and their leader, and the kids can see the city and finally meet you! It’s wonderful!” 

As he was talking, he subconsciously started walking around the room, almost pacing, in his excitement. As he finished, he turned back just in time to see a nervous flicker in the Duke’s eyes, and he stopped. 

“What’s wrong?”

Joonghyuk shook his head. “I just…would it be okay if I brought my sister as well? I think I’ve been neglecting her lately, with all that’s going on.”

Dokja chuckled lightly. “Of course you can bring your sister, idiot, this is your kingdom. Plus, she and the kids might become good friends. I can’t say I would mind that.”

The Duke nodded and glanced at the chess board. The Demon King smiled, and moved to start setting it up, but was interrupted at a knock on the door. A small, portly, man scurried in holding a letter. 

Dokja stepped aside, presuming it was for the Duke, but was surprised when the man headed for him instead. 

“I was told this was important, so forgive me for delivering it right away, sir.”

Dokja took the letter and nodded at the man, who took that as a sign to leave and scuttled out. 

Joonghyuk gestured to the letter.

“Who’s it from?”

Turning the letter over to see the seal, he saw an intricate design-as intricate as you could get with wax- of a library with tomes filling its shelves. 

“The archives, I presume.” He showed the seal to the Duke to double check, and at his nod opened the letter. 

Inside was a thin, and short, sheet of paper, with words only taking up about a third of one side. His interest now peaked, he read the letter aloud. 

“Advisor of Duke Joonghyuk, 

I, Chaewon, head of the archivists, request your presence at the main branch of the archives for a private meeting. 

I expect you at half past suppertime, on the dot. 

With regards, 

Chaewon, head of the archivists.”

Joonghyuk tilted his head. “What business would the archivists have with you, specifically, and not us?”

Dokja shrugged, but inside the gears were turning. In truth, he had been planning on contacting the archive at some point. His plan had been to feel them out while the Duke and Donghoon were occupied with the King’s Guild, and now he could do it without raising any suspicion, since they had called for him.

As he set the letter on the desk, he checked his pocket watch. It was half past noon now, which gave him plenty of time to prepare for the variety of scenarios he might be about to experience.

He moved to the door, intending on going to his own office, but hesitated and looked back at Joonghyuk, who had begun sorting through his own stack of mail. He glanced at the chess board, and then back to the Duke’s unenthusiastic expression as he beheld the mountain of documents he had to go through. 

Dokja smiled, and went to sit down at the board. When Joonghyuk looked up at him, he gestured to the seat opposite him. 

“I have more than enough time for one game. Are you up for it?”

The Duke practically threw himself into the chair, all thoughts of the documents gone as they set about preparing their game.

At suppertime, Dokja was ready. He hadn’t planned as thoroughly as he could have, but for some reason he was as calm as if he had been gardening.

 Having arrived at a quarter past the hour, he allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sheer quantity of both books and artifacts scattered throughout the building. 

With his heart happy with the state of the library, he moved to find the offices, where he assumed he would be meeting with Chaewon. Before he got very far up the stairs, he heard a voice call for him softly from the balcony above him. He looked up and saw a woman beckoning to him. 

Dokja quickened his pace and caught up with the woman, who started leading the way to a small corridor at the back of the second floor shelves. From there she led him to a door, which opened to reveal a small, but space efficient, office.

There, sitting at her desk, was Chaewon. He stood in front of her desk, and heard the door latch behind him as the woman left the room. 

Now alone, Chaewon looked up to meet his gaze, smiling. Standing, she gestured to one of the chairs sitting opposite her desk.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Demon King.”

Dokja froze, every muscle in his body tense. His mind raced through possibilities. Could it have been Harin? Juwon? Someone within the Duke’s manor? But Chaewon merely sat and let Dokja work through his panic, and when he searched the archivist’s face for any hint of hostility – of the grim satisfaction that implies a successful trap – he found nothing but impatience. Slowly, he sat.

Once he had, Chaewon immediately launched into business.

“I called you here today because I believe our interests have aligned. I’m sure you’ve learned through the Duke that my views do not align with the King’s. I wish for a reunion with the North, while he wishes for war. Demon King, I do not support- and have frankly never supported- the King and his wish for battle. You very obviously feel the same. I wish to aid you and your Duke in your efforts.”

She paused, looking at him to confirm he was paying attention, and continued.

“For years now, the King has been plotting war on not only your kingdom, but the entirety of the Demon Realm. This damned prophecy is just a stepping stool for him to finally be able to achieve that.” 

Dokja leaned forward.

“Chaewon- Head Archivist, I am honored that you understand where the Duke and I are coming from. I’m frankly quite relieved that we have someone with an extensive knowledge of the history and workings of the King. However- I must know, how did you figure out I was the Demon King?” 

Chaewon scoffed. 

“I’m the Head Archivist. My life’s pursuit has been recording and preserving the history of not only our kingdom, but of the kingdoms surrounding. The Duke of the North has sent quite a few soldiers to you, including our own princess. Then, only a few weeks later, he suddenly gains an advisor, when hardly anyone is willing to speak with him at all? Coinciding precisely with the Demon King’s disappearance? There were too many signs to not know. You won’t have to worry, though. There's a reason the archivists are not the King’s advisors. None of the people in the archives support him. They pose no threat to you and your plans. Anyone else won’t have enough information to piece it together, except perhaps the King himself and his damn dokkaebi.”

Dokja felt anger flare up inside of him once more as he thought of the dokkaebi. The very one who had poisoned his child. Chaewon noticed the change in his mood, and smiled bitterly. 

“It seems I’m not the only one with reasons to hate that dokkaebi. Demon King, I believe we have much to discuss. I’m afraid your Duke will have to wait some time, for I suggest we begin right away.”

Chapter Text

As Juwon strode across the ballroom, the people parted for them. They would never get used to that feeling – the almost imperceptible ways that people would shift, the ripples one movement created until suddenly an open path lay before them. It didn’t feel human. It gave Juwon chills.

Nevertheless, they were glad for it tonight. They had places to be, after all. So Juwon imbued their every stride with confidence they didn’t feel, and an authority they hoped to soon shed. Every step brought them closer to their target. Juwon swept their eyes across the ballroom, and finally, they found her. 

Ah.

Even with her back turned, Juwon immediately picked out Harin from the tens of nobles teeming around her. She wore an elegantly tailored dark blue suit, embellished with gold on the lapels. The sleeves draped down to form a sort of mock train, glimmering with golden sparkles. Juwon’s pulse quickened, but they tried to keep that to themself. As they drew near the group, they placed a gentle hand on Harin’s shoulder. Instinctively, Harin placed her own hand on top of Juwon’s, turned to look at them, and smiled. Then she followed the example of the other nobles, and bowed, all of them murmuring greetings.

When Harin rose, one of the bobby pins holding her hair in place had come loose. It caught Juwon’s eye, and they watched Harin try to fix it while they returned the nobles’ greetings. Then they took a step forward, catching Harin’s arm lightly, and cocking their head. Harin looked up at them, a flush rising to her cheeks. Juwon couldn’t keep a smile from slipping onto their face. “May I?” They asked.

Harin nodded, so Juwon reached for the stray bobby pin, and gently put it back into place. Exactly the same way as when they had initially done Harin’s hair not even an hour ago. Juwon, now finished with the pin, grasped onto Harin’s hand. Harin gave a squeeze, and Juwon felt a rush of emotion begin to surface.

Harin murmured, “Thank you, your highness,” and turned back towards the other nobles, stepping to the side slightly. Only now did Juwon notice the tittering that had started among the noble ladies present. Oh well, this served their purposes anyway.  

Trying to give Harin time to recover, Juwon leaned forward to speak to a noble they knew, greeting her warmly. 

“Duchess Jia! What a pleasure to see you here. How are your little kittens doing?”

“Quite well, thank you for asking! We’ve found homes for all but two, your highness. You’re not looking for a pet by any chance, are you?” The noble lady smiled, obviously ecstatic to be engaged in conversation with Juwon. 

They bantered back and forth a bit before Juwon moved on to the next noble, then the next, addressing each by name, asking them each questions about their estates or their families or their interests. It was tiring work, but the rewards were well worth it. Each was a connection to be made, influence to be gained, another pawn on the board. They would need all the pawns they could get.

When at last Juwon had the whole group laughing, and their work had been done, they felt Harin give a gentle tug to the back of their sleeve. Time for phase two then.

They waited for the chatter to die down, at which point Juwon begged their pardon and whisked Harin away toward the dance floor. As soon as they were out of eyesight, Harin’s shoulders relaxed, and Juwon let out a long breath. Then they grinned at each other, moving into their starting positions. Harin pretended to wipe some dust off of Juwon’s shoulder before letting it settle there. The weight felt so right, it washed away all of Juwon’s previous discomfort. They were silent for a moment as the music began, but when they passed the circle of nobles they had fled from, Juwon nodded to them surreptitiously.

“Not too bad that time around, don’t you think?”

“Not bad at all,” Harin said with a fake primness as Juwon spun her around. “Thank heavens someone made you practice.”

Juwon let out an affronted cry, and moved to give the Duchess a subtle jab in the ribs. “How cruel you are! To attribute all my hard work to some stranger.” 

Harin wove out of their reach, laughing lightly. At the sound, Juwon pulled her closer, just a bit. Just enough for them to sneak in a quick peck on the lips before whispering a “thank you, love” into her ear. Harin buried her head into Juwon’s shoulder, the tips of her ears red. But she pulled Juwon in as well, and now they were barely doing more than swaying to the music as they embraced each other. The whole endeavor had lasted hardly longer than a few seconds. The dance only lasted three minutes at most. Juwon wished it was their eternity.

Eventually, though, Harin popped her head up from Juwon’s shoulder, glancing at a gathering of priests speaking feverishly in the corner. As the second song began, she nudged Juwon in their direction, and so the two of them quickly made their exit. Still holding hands, Harin tapped in patterns on Juwon’s leg. Second, left, Minwoo, nephew. It took Juwon a second to decode, but by the time they got to the group, they were prepared.

“Acolyte Minwoo! How good to see you again. How have you been since our last meeting?”

The young priest-in-training looked surprised to be singled out from among his peers, but he gave a quick bow of deference before responding. His colleagues scattered. “Prince Juwon, it’s an honor, sir.” Juwon stiffened unintentionally. It was so easy to forget, when they were with Harin, how other people perceived them. Whereas moments before they’d been comfortable, Juwon now fought the urge to scratch at their arms. Sir. It felt dirty. It felt wrong. Harin gave their hand a warning squeeze, and Juwon looked up. Minwoo was still talking. “I’ve been well. And how is your work going, Your Highness?”

The last bit was said with an obvious glance at Juwon and Harin’s joined hands, and it took all of Juwon’s willpower not to let their eye twitch. Asshole. He hadn’t even greeted Harin, hadn’t even deigned to look at her as anything more than the-woman-beside-the-prince.

“Quite well! In fact, I’ve taken an interest in politics, as of late.”

“Do you mean to say that you weren’t interested before, Your Highness?”

“Oh no,” Juwon dismissed this with a wave of their hand. “I did my duty, to be sure. But with the rising tensions between so many factions within our kingdom, it has become a more intensive interest than ever before.”

The acolyte’s eyes glittered at this. Good, he was taking the bait. “I have heard that the High Priest and His Majesty have been on…rocky terms as of late. Something to do with your…bethrothal, I’d gathered?” Again, the briefest of glances at Harin, but no acknowledgement. Juwon could feel the anger radiating off of Harin, so they squeezed her hand once, twice, three times. Twice more. I love you. I’m sorry.

Harin said nothing. Just kept standing there, smiling, as if she were nothing more than a doll for Juwon to do with what they liked. It was nauseating, and yet it was what everyone expected of them. Prince and Duchess. Master and puppet. Owner and owned.

Juwon leaned forward, and the acolyte echoed their movements almost unconsciously. The words burned at Juwon’s throat as they said them, but it was a necessary sacrifice. “Between the two of us, even the notion of my father pawning me off to another man,” they spit the word out with as much disgust as they could muster, “is abhorrent. I don’t know when such sinful thoughts began to permeate the palace, but rest assured that I am doing everything in my power to rectify the situation. It would be of much help,” Juwon slipped in, “if the church were to support me in these endeavors. Perhaps you could send word up the chain of command?”

The glittering in Acolyte Minwoo’s eyes had turned into a full on gleam. It made Juwon feel sick. “You can trust that you will have the church’s full support in this, sir.” Then he added in a mock whisper, “And might I add, sir, that my uncle, or rather, the High Priest will be very pleased with your choice in stock. She’s a fine specimen.”

Juwon saw red. Harin’s spine stiffened. Not yet, they had to remind themself. I still need them to like me. So they just smiled, tipped their head in the barest of farewells, and pulled Harin away. The ball was just reaching its zenith, which fortunately meant that most everyone had arrived, and the courtyard was next to empty. 

Harin, who had been muttering curses under her breath since they left the priest’s vicinity, tugged Juwon behind one of the massive pillars a ways away from the main event. Then she let them go and slammed her fist into the pillar. Juwon watched silently, anxious to see the damage to Harin’s fists, but knowing better than to interrupt. She needed this catharsis, and she had many fewer opportunities than Juwon to let down her guard. “The sheer audacity of them all!” Another punch to the pillar. “The bastards! Conniving, pompous, arrogant snakes.” Harin rested her head against the smooth, cool stone, heaving not so much from the exertion as the oppressive weight of her mere identity and all that came with it. “Gods, I hate this place. I hate it.” She was barely holding back sobs.

Juwon came up behind her, wrapping her in a hug and gently pulling her to the ground so that Juwon was sitting up against the pillar, Harin clutching at their suit jacket and crying into their shoulder. They slowly began taking hairpins out, one by one, carefully working through the snags in Harin’s hair. They hummed lightly, an old song that told the tale of a couple who asked the gods to turn them to birds so they could be together. As they hummed and unpinned, Harin’s heaving began to slow. When Juwon was done with her hair, they moved to massage her knuckles, raw from her attacks on the pillar. For a while, they just sat in the silence, holding onto each other, both dreaming of somewhere far away, where they could just be Juwon and Harin, rather than Prince and Duchess. Lover and loved in return, rather than master and puppet. Partners, instead of owner and property.

“Juwon?” Harin’s voice was raw from crying. It made Juwon hold her even tighter.

“Yes, love?”

“Is this going to work?”

Juwon leaned their head back against the marble pillar, thinking. They weren’t going to give Harin useless platitudes. They thought of the curious Duke, his admiration and fierce loyalty. They thought of Kim Dokja, Demon King, and his sharp instincts, his silver tongue. Juwon thought of the pair of them, going up against the world. They sighed.

“I want to believe that it will.”

Juwon felt Harin nod into their chest in assent.

“If anyone can do it, it’s those two.”

“And then we’ll be free from this?”

Juwon felt their heart melt – in love, and in pain. They hated seeing what this life was doing to the both of them. They knew that they couldn’t take much more of this.

“Yes, love. And then we’ll be free. And the first thing we’ll do is start a goddamn garden, and it’ll be so grand that it’ll put even that silly Demon King’s to shame.”

Harin let out a small laugh, and began to sit up to properly face Juwon. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and her hair was a mess, but it didn’t matter. She was the most beautiful person Juwon had ever seen. She placed her hands on either side of Juwon’s face. “Just a little longer, Juju-ah. Then we’ll have a garden, and the cutest little kittens. Maybe we can pick some up from Duchess Jia before we escape.”

Juwon smiled, “That sounds wonderful, love. I can’t wait.”

“Juju?”

“Hari?”

“I know they don’t see our relationship for what it truly is, but still a part of me is glad that I don’t have to hide my love for you anymore.”

Juwon leaned forward, planting feather-light kisses on Harin’s cheek, her nose, the corners of her eyes, before kissing her once, softly, on the lips. Then they pulled back, resting their forehead on hers, and whispered, “Me too, love. Me too.”