Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Did you see this? It says the king is working with monsters!” A woman from another table whispered, the sound of paper unfolding in her hands.

“Monsters? What nonsense. Hurry and burn that! The guards will hear you!” Her friend hissed.

Seoho hid half his face behind the drink he held, sharing a knowing look with Geonhak. The other shook his head. He shrugged, tilting his drink into his mouth and finishing its minimal contents before setting the small cup down.

Geonhak was on his feet first before him, picking up his sword from where he had placed it on the table. The two women visibly flinched, afraid they had been caught. Seoho gave the younger an admonishing look for scaring the ladies. Geonhak rolled his eyes.

Soon, Seoho stood as well, sword in hand. The women were shaking, heads hanging low. Seoho spared them a glance, catching one of the women’s anxious eyes. He walked over, looking down at the seated women. They wouldn’t dare look in his direction. Seoho flashed her a bright smile.

“Miss, may I please see that?” He asked, voice a gentle honey that could make any woman’s heart melt.

“Y-yes, of course,” the lady stammered, pulling the paper from her sleeve and bashfully handing it over, eyes that couldn’t even meet the soldier’s feet now unable to tear away from the soldier’s beautiful smile. Geonhak rolled his eyes.

“Thank you,” Seoho bowed his head, taking the folded letter. “Have a nice rest of your meal,” he said, bidding the women farewell as an exasperated hand roughly grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the tavern.

“You’ll scare them even more like that,” Geonhak hissed once they were finally outside.

“Really? I think they fell in love with me” Seoho snickered. “You’re just jealous.

Geonhak rolled his eyes once more, hand dropping from the older soldier’s arm. He sighed, straightening himself up to look like a proper soldier, in contrast to Seoho’s crossed arms and leisure walk. He clapped the older on the back. “Stand straight, hyung,” he chided. Seoho groaned.

“Jeez, even I wasn’t this overbearing when I passed the exams,” he winced, rubbing his back. “I’m still your superior, you know? I’ll write a bad report of you.”

“I should be the one writing a bad report on you,” Geonhak shook his head, though it was clear to Seoho the younger soldier was trying his best to hide his endeared smile behind his hard expression.

“By the way, what does that thing say?” The younger asked, gesturing to the letter Seoho received from the women. Seoho held the folded paper up, only able to catch a glimpse at the beautifully written Chinese characters before a scream was heard from afar.

“The king is working with monsters!”

Seoho shared a knowing look with Geonhak. Geonhak nodded. Seoho nodded back, pocketing the letter. Neither soldiers wasted another second, running to investigate the commotion.

“The king has been reckless,” Dongju mused, eyes skimming over the piece of paper once more, fingers running over the black ink of perfect Chinese characters. “What do you suppose he’s going to do?”

“His majesty insists his intentions are good,” Keonhee said, dipping his brush into his ink dish, trained hands carefully writing his letter in beautiful calligraphy.

Down the hall, the sound of struggling feet and muffled screams could be heard. Another instigator of the rumors caught by the soldiers. Dongju looked up at Keonhee with curious eyes.

“How long are people going to believe that?”

Keonhee sighed. Not long, he wanted to say but refrained, biting his tongue. He set his brush down onto the dish, the ink still wet on the paper.

“I will be leaving,” Keonhee announced, standing up and making his way to the young scholar. He knelt down, leaning close to Dongju’s ear.

“When the sun falls, go quickly.”

Keonhee pulled away. Dongju nodded, glancing at the fresh letter Keonhee had finished writing to the one currently in his hand and to the other letters prepared off to the side, neatly folded.

“Yes, sir.”

The head advisor grinned reassuringly, patting the boy’s back. His eyes soon returned to their serious gaze. Dongju missed seeing the older’s button-doe eyes filled with youth when he was a bright child innocent to the cruel reality he lived in, back when life was much simpler. He admired the older then, drawn to his kindness and generosity. Years later, Keonhee would mature into a benevolent man who would soon begin a rebellion against a corrupt king. Dongju admired him still, grateful to be taught by him.

”Immediately go home once you’re done. Do not come back here and do not risk getting caught,” Keonhee sharply advised the other.

“Yes, sir,” Dongju nodded. The older sighed once more, stress hanging low bags under his eyes, concern most evident.

Disregarding decorum and formalities, Keonhee pulled Dongju into his arms, praying to any celestial being listening to keep this boy safe.

Surprised, the scholar reluctantly hugged back, reminiscent of the times when they were younger and relied on the comfort of each other. Dongju buried his face into Keonhee’s shoulder, clinging onto the wisp of childish innocence he wished would come back. But for now he could only bask in the other’s shared warmth, hoping things would be okay.

The advisor slowly pulled away with a tight smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Dongju kept from frowning, digging his fingers into his palms so desperate arms wouldn’t reach up for another hug. He needed to be strong.

Keonhee turned his head away, unable to maintain Dongju’s nervous gaze. He stood up, walking toward the door.

“When the ink dries, you’re dismissed.”

“We have collected these letters posted around the kingdom and have detained all who spread this false rumor, your majesty,” Seoho reported to the king, head hung low, humble. He gestures to the soldier beside him, who held a folded paper in his hands. “Many say it was posted overnight,”

Geonhak bowed, extending his arms out with a folded paper in his hands. Keonhee stepped forward, taking the paper.

“Read it to me,” Youngjo ordered his head advisor. Keonhee unfolded the paper, reading the letter.

“The king has acquired a man who drinks the blood of humans, a monster.”

Youngjo scoffed. Keonhee continued.

“His plans to remain in power require the sacrifice of his own citizens in exchange for the help of unholy creatures condemned by the gods. These monsters do not care of your class, upbringings, heritage—they simply see you as mere prey, a cattle to be slaughtered and feasted on. The king is corrupt, devoid of integrity and virtue. So long as he sits on that throne, no man is safe from those monsters.“

Keonhee bowed his head as the letter came to a close, folding the paper.

“Thank you, Advisor Lee,” Youngjo nodded toward the head advisor. Keonhee made no reaction.

Youngjo shifted in his seat, looking down at the soldiers below him. He planted his elbow onto the armrest, resting his chin on his palm.

“What do you think of this rumor?” He asked the soldiers.

“It is mutiny, your majesty,” Seoho dutifully answered. “You are a benevolent king who holds many virtues, your majesty. And there is no such thing as monsters.”

Beside him, however, Geonhak remained quiet, head down and anxiously shaking like the women from the tavern. His silence didn’t go unnoticed by the king.

“You,” Youngjo called to Geonhak, eyes narrowed. “What do you think? Do you believe in these rumors?”

“N-no, your majesty,” Geonhak nervously replied.

“Why do you stutter?” The king interrogated further.

“He recently passed the exams, your majesty,” Seoho quickly intervened to defend the younger soldier. “Excuse him, I believe this is his first time meeting our gracious king so close in person.”

Youngjo stayed quiet, amusement darkening his eyes. A devilish grin spread, dancing on his lips.

“I see,” he said. He chuckled softly to himself before waving his hand. “Go get some rest, you two are dismissed. Thank you for your hard work.”

Seoho and Geonhak stood up straight, reverently bowing to the king.

“Thank you, your majesty!”

They proclaimed in unison, swiftly taking their leave. Keonhee remained stationary at his place, watching the large doors to the throne room close behind the two soldiers.

“Keonhee,” Youngjo called him. “Hand me that letter,” he ordered. Keonhee wordlessly obeyed, climbing up the small set of stairs leading up to the throne and handing the king the letter himself.

Youngjo’s eyes skimmed over the contents. He barked out a laugh, holding one end of the letter into the small flame of the candle on the table in front of him, its embers catching onto the corner of the paper.

“The one who wrote this has stunning calligraphy,” Youngjo pointed out, watching the flame advance onto the rest of the letter until the paper became nothing but black ashes flying up into the air. “They must’ve been raised in high prestige.”

“We have a traitor among us,” Keonhee concluded for the king. Youngjo nodded, looking up at his head advisor.

“Commence an investigation starting at sunrise, find the traitor spreading these lies,” he commanded, dropping the last remnant of the burnt paper, a mess of ashy flakes all over his table.

“Yes, your majesty.”

“And do so quietly,” Youngjo added. “We don’t want citizens involving themselves with matters that don’t concern them.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Youngjo gave Keonhee’s expressionless face a hard stare. Keonhee simply blinked.

“If these rumors spread any further, I won’t spare you so easily this time, Keonhee.”

Keonhee remained silent. He could only nod.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said tightly. “Would you like me to call a servant to clean this up for you?” He changed the subject, gesturing to the pile of ash on the table.

Youngjo shook his head.

“Not now, later,” he said.

A shadowy figure emerged from behind the throne. Keonhee looked up from the king, noticing the blonde man with piercing red eyes, seemingly gliding as the flowing black cloth of his hanbok dragged against the floor beneath him. The advisor bowed to the man.

“Hello, young master Hwanwoong.”

“Your excellency,” Hwanwoong replied with a sneer, making no move to return the formality. Keonhee stood up straight, meeting the vampire's intense eyes. He quickly diverted his gaze before he could stare too long, get too lost in those hypnotic and fiery orbs. Hwanwoong scoffed.

“Don’t let anyone enter this room for now,” Youngjo ordered, holding his arm out to the man standing beside his throne. Hwanwoong grinned, sitting himself down on Youngjo’s lap. Keonhee lowered his gaze down to his feet. “You’re dismissed.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” he held his sleeved hands together and bowed to the king, aware of the watchful eyes glaring at him, urging him to leave sooner. Keonhee quietly did so, turning his back around to head for the exit. Hwanwoong’s giggling could be heard almost immediately. But Youngjo had one last thing to say to Keonhee as he laid his palm against the large throne room doors.

“Don’t disappoint me, Keonhee,” Youngjo reminded. Keonhee opened his mouth but the king continued. “Otherwise, it won’t be only you taking the punishment. I wouldn’t want to hurt your precious underling.”

The advisor bit his tongue at the threat, exhaling slowly.

“Yes, your majesty,” Keonhee said, keeping his voice even, refraining from gritting out the words. He could feel their smirks and mocking gazes, scrutinizing him. He waited only a short moment more before exiting the throne room.

Youngjo sighed as the doors closed, the air of it disturbing the candles’ flames which momentarily dipped to the side. A teasing hand roamed down his chest, fingers feeling around the golden embroidered patterns on red silks, massaging into tense muscles.

“His majesty is worked up,” Hwanwoong whispered, lips pressed up against Youngjo’s ear. Youngjo looked up at the vampire, his frown melting into an adoring smile. He leaned into the other, burying his face into his shoulder.

“They don’t like you,” Youngjo said. “They’re afraid of what they don’t know.” Hwanwoong hummed.

“They‘re uncomfortable with a king that holds too much power. They’re weak,” he added, dragging his lips down Youngjo’s neck. The latter sighed, pulling Hwanwoong closer as he settled both of them in a more comfortable position on the throne, Youngjo with his back against the armrest, Hwanwoong straddled on top of his waist. The vampire’s nose prodded around the soft and unmarred skin of the king’s neck, impatiently tugging at his collar.

“Hungry, I see,” Youngjo observed amusedly, letting Hwanwoong remove his jade belt and undo the ribbon of his gown. The other didn’t answer, pushing down the collar of the king’s undergarment, revealing the faint scars of healed punctures from the previous feeding on his shoulder.

Ravenous red eyes devoured, the desire to sink his teeth into the king clear as day. But Youngjo trained Hwanwoong better than to succumb to his thirst that easily. Hwanwoong waited for the king’s permission. Youngjo grinned, bearing his neck.

“Proceed.”

A grunt escaped Youngjo’s lips as teeth pierced into his skin, the feeling nothing new though still unpleasant. Blood was then sucked out of him, though eager hands reached for his, readily lacing their fingers, obliging and comforting. Youngjo sighed, tipping his head further to the side. He was usually generous during his feedings, though Hwanwoong no longer took advantage of his offer, content with enough blood to last him a few weeks.

The vampire detached his teeth from the king’s shoulder, licking the wound. The skin closed up with the aid of his saliva. Hwanwoong rested his forehead on Youngjo’s shoulder, provocatively rolling his hips. The latter‘s hand ran down Hwanwoong’s thigh before squeezing it, a warning.

“Please?” Hwanwoong whimpered, tugging at Youngjo’s garments.

“No,” the king denied, pulling Hwanwoong away from his shoulder. He held the vampire’s chin in between his fingers, getting a good look of his face before pulling Hwanwoong in for a kiss. His lips tasted metallic, remnants of his feeding. Youngjo didn’t mind it, running his tongue over the vampire’s lips before inserting it into his mouth, feeling sharp canines and tasting his own blood. Hwanwoong moaned, wrapping his arms around Youngjo’s neck and resuming the roll of his hips.

Youngjo pulled away, eyebrows raised. Hwanwoong was panting lightly, lips parted after being thoroughly invaded, scarlet eyes hungry for something that wasn’t blood.

“Please?” Hwanwoong asked once more, pouting. Youngjo shook his head, the vampire whining. The king chuckled, hand wandering down Hwanwoong’s torso.

”Find the one posting the rumors and bring them to me, then maybe I will think about it,” Youngjo whispered, cupping the vampire’s groin and giving a generous squeeze. The latter gasped in arousal, but the king’s hand was gone before he could buck his hips against it. Youngjo patted Hwanwoong’s thigh, leaning close to his ear.

“Hurry on now.”

“I’m sorry,” Geonhak quietly murmured as the throne room doors closed behind them.

“What are you sorry for? Almost getting ass whipped by the king?” Seoho looked to the younger soldier with a teasing smile. Geonhak turned away, embarrassed. Seoho pat the other’s shoulder.

“I’m just messing with you, I wouldn’t let the king whip your ass,” he reassured, earning an appreciative grin. “I’d be the one to whip your ass for embarrassing me like that anyways,” the older innocently beamed.

Geonhak’s expression went cold, brusquely sweeping Seoho’s hands off his shoulder. The latter laughed, far brighter than the fire illuminating the halls surrounding the dark courtyard at night. Geonhak held his head down, hiding the smile he caught from the other soldier’s contagious laughter.

“Thanks, hyung,” Geonhak said eventually, voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh? What was that?” Seoho gasped, his smile spreading wider on his lips. “I couldn’t hear you, please repeat that.”

Geonhak pursed his lips into a small pout, blush dusting his cheeks. He looked away from the older soldier.

“I said thank you, for saving me back there with the king,” Geonhak confessed. Seoho squealed, much too excited by the younger’s gratitude. Geonhak could only fondly shake his head.

“Thank me by having a drink with me,” Seoho said, nudging the other soldier.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now! The king has dismissed us early, there’s no better time than now,” Seoho insisted, pushing the younger along.

“Okay, okay,” Geonhak laughed. “I’m not buying though.”

Seoho gasped, feigning hurt. “This is how you repay me in thanks?”

“You said I could thank you by having a drink with you, not by buying you a drink.”

Seoho huffed turning away. He opened his mouth to say something dramatic though the words quickly faded in his throat as he watched the head advisor walk out of the throne room with a grim expression. Geonhak followed the other’s eyes, watching the head advisor hurry off in the other direction. He could tell from the tall man’s eyes that he was panicked.

“Hyung,” Geonhak called. Seoho blinked, turning to the younger. “Do you know what this rumor is about?” He asked curiously.

Seoho pursed his lips into a straight line, glancing at the direction Keonhee had rushed off to and then at the throne room doors, remembering the blood drinking monster the letter spoke of and the perfect Chinese characters they were written in. Concern pooled deep in his stomach.

“Hyung?” Geonhak called before Seoho’s silence could extend any longer. The older turned to him, a tight smile on his lips which failed to be reassuring. He shook his head, chuckling dismissively.

“It’s nothing we should worry about,” he said, firmly planting his hand on the younger’s shoulder. Geonhak nodded slowly, the previous serious look in Seoho’s eyes alone more than enough to silence any further discussion about the topic. The bright and playful glint soon returned as if his chipper mood had never been disrupted.

“Good! Let’s go get some drinks, I know a really good place,” Seoho wrapped an arm around Geonhak’s broad shoulders, marching forward with a bounce in his step, further and further away from the throne room.

Geonhak nodded along, letting himself be dragged away by the older soldier. He spared one last worried glance behind him.

A black figure shadowed by the dark evening dropped from the roof of the throne room. Geonhak narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better look. The figure suddenly turned to him with glowing scarlet-red eyes, intense and fiery orbs locking onto his gaze before disappearing into an imperceptible blur. Geonhak startled, quickly looking forward with a chill running up his spine.

“Something wrong?” Seoho pulled his arm away, noticing the younger’s sudden discomfort. Geonhak shook his head.

“N-nothing.”

The throne room doors closed behind him.

It was dark out, the sun long past fallen.

Keonhee inhaled sharply, stomach twisting.

Without a second of hesitation, Keonhee headed for his quarters with the poise and composure of a highly praised noble in his step but the haste and panic of a man fearing for the life of another.

Keonhee almost flung open the door to his quarters, heart falling when met with an empty room. Dongju had left already like Keonhee had instructed him to, the letters gone as if they had never been there.

He cursed under his breath.

“Dongju..”

The air swished behind him, clothes tugged by its wind as a giggle followed. Keonhee turned around, knowing exactly who that was and who that giggle belonged to.

And yet Hwanwoong was nowhere to be seen.