Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If he really stopped to think about it, his life was actually a good one. He had wonderful parents, the best friends he could ask for, a beautiful childhood, had studied at a prestigious academy and an exclusive university, and held an enviable job. But human beings are greedy — we always want more. And Seungkwan was no exception. Of course he wanted more.

He honestly couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he started loving Hansol in a way he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe it was when he saw him at the academy’s graduation ten years ago; the gorgeous crown prince of Florienne, whom he hadn’t seen in over five years, looked nothing like how Seungkwan remembered him that day. He stood out among everyone else, drew every gaze, and while it was true that being the future king of the realm made him a natural center of attention, there was something about him that felt magnetic. How could the inexperienced thirteen-year-old Seungkwan not fall for him?

The only problem that day had been, of course, that Hansol treated him like a little kid. Which he was — but back then, Seungkwan didn’t want to accept it, and had been terribly offended by it.

“Well, if it isn’t little Seungkwan,” Hansol had said in a soft, childlike tone when Seungkwan came to congratulate him in person on his graduation. “You’ve grown a little lately, haven’t you?”

“I’m thirteen already,” he muttered with flushed cheeks and a frown. Hansol smiled and squished them between his hands.

“You’re still just a baby,” the prince literally spoke to him like he was a drooling newborn, and Seungkwan gasped in indignation.

“I’m not a baby! You’re only five years older, Hansol, it’s not that much,” he exclaimed, annoyed — and though he hoped Hansol would open his eyes and say something like “you’re right, I was wrong,” the stupid prince just burst into laughter and ruffled Seungkwan’s brown hair.

“Whatever you say… kid,” he teased. Seungkwan really wanted to punch him, but he knew he’d get in big trouble if he did. “Hey, Kwannie, it’s been like four or five years since I last saw you, don’t be mad at me, okay?” Seungkwan rolled his eyes, making Hansol laugh again. Other people began to gather around to congratulate the prince, so Seungkwan walked away, still angry… and feeling like a complete idiot.

But not more of an idiot than Hansol!

Even ten years later, every time he remembered that cursed day, he wanted to dig a hole and disappear from the world. A lot had changed since then — the same year Hansol graduated, Seungkwan entered the very same academy. It wasn’t exactly a boarding school, but it did demand a lot of time and attention. The classes were intense, the assignments enormous, and free time practically nonexistent — but that was fine for Seungkwan. His best friend, Princess Eunbi, was a year ahead and gave him all her notes, which she had, of course, stolen from Hansol. And during his second year, his other best friend, Prince Chan, also enrolled, so he wasn’t completely alone.

And besides all that, Seungkwan was genuinely adored by everyone. He was an amazing person and he knew it — that’s why he graduated with honors and was immediately admitted into the same university Hansol had attended. Sometimes he hated walking the same paths that the stupid crown prince had once walked, but their lives and families were far more intertwined than he liked to admit, so he had to endure it.

What he couldn’t endure was being constantly reminded of Hansol, unable to forget him.

Seungkwan wanted to move on, to finally fall in love with someone else… but how could he, when everything brought Hansol to mind? They studied at the same places, their parents were best friends, and Seungkwan just had to be best friends with both Hansol’s little brother and his only cousin. It was kind of pathetic.

But not as pathetic as his current situation.

Turns out, during his final year at university, young Choi Seungkwan was looking for someone important to intern with. Since he was studying International Relations, he thought it’d be easy to do his internship under his father, Seungcheol — but of course, he wasn’t allowed. He shared his frustration with Chan, who immediately told Hansol, and one night, just as Seungkwan was about to go to bed, he got a call.

“Hey, Seungkwan, it’s been a while... want to work with me?”

It was the damn crown prince of the kingdom. Lee Hansol.

Who would reject a job offer from the prince? Well, Choi Seungkwan was perfectly capable of doing so—but it only took one conversation (laced with not-so-subtle threats) with his parents to make him accept.

“It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, darling,” Mingyu told him. “You’re going to make a lot of money.”

“It’s an internship. He’s not going to pay me,” Seungkwan replied, but Mingyu wasn’t even listening anymore—he had already started calculating how much money Seungkwan could have earned in a year.

“Hansol needs help, and who better than you, son?” Seungcheol added with a proud smile. “You’ll be the best agent he could ask for, congratulations!”

If his parents were that supportive… there was no way he could disappoint them.

And since, generally speaking, Seungkwan never disappointed anyone, Hansol’s team (including the prince himself) was so pleased with his performance that by the time he graduated, they invited him to stay on as a permanent staff member.

“You’re just like your father, young Choi,” Hansol’s assistant told him with a warm smile, which Seungkwan returned, albeit a bit awkwardly.

“Ah...” He was surrounded by Hansol’s entire team, all celebrating his “official” addition to the Crown Prince of Florienne’s Advisory Council, wearing a ridiculous party hat and holding a glass of champagne. Because yes, they had thrown him a welcome party—even though he hadn’t even confirmed whether he was staying in the job for good. But since they had gone through all that trouble to throw such a sweet little celebration (probably to manipulate him and guilt-trip him into staying), he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

It had been a year since that day. Seungkwan was now twenty-three, living what looked like the perfect life… and facing a massive problem: he worked with the man he loved.

The very same man who still referred to him as “my little brother’s adorable best friend.”

A lot of people would probably tell Seungkwan to “go find a real problem,” but this situation kept him up at night.

Hansol, Hansol, Hansol... what a curse. Seungkwan just wanted to run away from it all.

Chapter Text

Sometimes, he wondered if Hansol’s perspective of him was beginning to change. The first time he ever thought that was during a ball that had taken place a year ago. After a conversation with Chan—one of their usual arguments—Hansol had approached them, specifically Seungkwan, and asked him something that… still kept him up at night.

“...Maybe I’m not the right person for the one I thought was mine.”

“Are you certain of that?” Hansol had asked, his eyes locked onto Seungkwan’s with a strange glint, a gaze so intense it made his knees weak.

He still hadn’t recovered from that day. But anyway, now wasn’t the time to dwell on it—he was working and had to remain professional. Besides, it had been a while since he’d had a “normal” conversation with Hansol. Ever since that night at the ball, things between them had become tense and awkward. They only spoke when it came to work matters, and while Seungkwan felt somewhat relieved not to be under the scorching gaze of the enigmatic prince all the time, he sometimes missed the short, light conversations they’d have back when he was still in university and would visit the castle to spend some afternoons with Chan. Hansol, though always incredibly busy, used to carve out tiny bits of time to sit with his brother and Seungkwan. Back then, since he wasn’t yet part of Hansol’s official staff, there was no need for formality or calling him “Your Highness.” That made Seungkwan feel a little closer to him, even if he couldn’t really call him a friend. That would’ve been… strange.

But now, his dull days were reduced to this:

“What do you think of this, Your Highness?” He handed a document to Hansol, who barely glanced at it before passing it on to his assistant, the one who was always standing at his side with her hands neatly folded. Seungkwan fought the urge to grimace at the prince’s dismissive attitude and exited the office, heading back to his own—which he shared with the rest of the team—right next door. Once at his desk, he rested his forehead against it and knocked it a few times until it started to hurt.

“I want to work from home,” he groaned, imagining how much better life would be if he could spend his eleven-hour shift next to his father Seungcheol, who had been working from his home office for a while now and only left for crucial meetings, or better yet, enjoying the delicious meals his other dad, Mingyu, would prepare for him.

“Honestly, I don’t know why His Highness insists on having you work here in the office,” said one of his colleagues. He was the one who wrote up Hansol’s official documents, and since Seungkwan could never remember his name, he’d nicknamed him “Little Scribe” to avoid hurting the guy’s feelings. “Assistant Cha and I have to be here full-time, but you… you could easily work for several people at once. You’d only need to see our faces during important meetings.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Seungkwan exclaimed, completely agreeing with Little Scribe. “It’s so boring being here doing nothing.” He pouted. “The pay is amazing and all, but—”

“Don’t talk about money. You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth,” Little Scribe muttered, rolling his eyes. Seungkwan sighed.

“Well, yeah, I’m a millionaire, but I love money. I always want more…” And to be honest, in that moment he wasn’t exactly talking about money. “Anyway, this job is really dull for someone as dynamic as me. I want something new, something exciting, I want—”

“Mr. Choi.” The voice of the assistant peeked through the doorway, interrupting him. “His Highness is requesting your presence.”

“Ugh, what is it this time?” he muttered, getting to his feet reluctantly and making his way back to Hansol’s office. The man was still seated at his desk, just like he had been minutes before, but this time Seungkwan took a better look at him. He was dressed in a dark, elegant suit as always, his light brown hair perfectly styled, his expression calm and serious. That man always looked so polished… sometimes Seungkwan just wanted to ruin him. In a good way. He wanted to provoke some kind of emotion in Hansol, wanted the prince to look at him as an equal, not as the baby he used to play with in childhood, nor as his little brother’s best friend or his foreign affairs officer.

“You may leave, Madam Cha,” Hansol said in his deep, velvety voice. Seungkwan’s knees nearly gave out, but he managed to stay upright. The woman exited quietly, and the soft click of the door closing sounded just before Hansol’s beautiful eyes finally landed on him. “Why don’t you take a seat, Seungkwan?”

Ah, shit—he’d said his name. How interesting.

“Is that really necessary, Your Highness?” he asked, slightly puzzled.

“It’s not about work, so…” Seungkwan’s eyes widened in surprise as he sat down across from Hansol. Now he was extremely curious about what the man had to say. “I… I’ve been thinking about something for quite a while. A proposal, for you.”

“A proposal? For me?” he repeated, tilting his head.

He caught a hint of a smile on Hansol’s lips and blushed shamelessly.

“That’s what I said.” Anyone else might not have noticed it, but Choi Seungkwan had spent so much time observing Hansol that decoding these kinds of things was second nature to him: the prince was enjoying this. “Absolute bastard,” Seungkwan thought, praying with everything in him that his face wasn’t betraying his inner chaos—wanting to strangle Hansol and kiss him all at once. Hansol rested his hands on the desk and seemed to consider his words carefully before speaking again. “I’ll be turning thirty in two years, and maybe not long after thirty-five, my parents will choose to abdicate. Which means that by then, I’ll need to have a consort…”

“Uh-huh…” Seungkwan had a bad feeling about where this conversation was going, and he did not like it.

“And I remember you once told me you wanted to get married—”

“I said that?” he interrupted, not shocked by the idea itself but rather the fact that Hansol had remembered.

“You did,” the prince nodded. “So I wanted to propose marriage to you.” Shit. Of all things he expected, that sure wasn’t one of them. “Think about it—we know each other well, you want to get married, and I need to. I believe our interests align. Plus, I know you love money, and if you were married to me, you’d never have to worry about it again.” 

Okay, was that part really necessary? 

“…What do you think? It would only be a political marriage, so—”

“What the hell did you just say?” The words flew out of his mouth before he even had a second to think, much less filter them like he normally would around Hansol. “Did you get high on something?”

Speechless. That’s what the prince was: absolutely speechless. He looked away from Seungkwan and swallowed hard.

Right… maybe this conversation was going to be harder than he imagined.

Chapter Text

From the moment he was born, everyone around him treated him as if he were the savior of the world...

Alright, maybe that was an exaggeration, but it was true that everyone treated him far too kindly. And as he grew up, he understood that it was because of his status as the “crown prince.” He was incredibly spoiled as a child—he could get anything he wanted with just a look, and even though his parents tried to be strict, they were far too soft with him. Because he was their only child.

Until he wasn’t. Chan came along unexpectedly, and Hansol remembered it clearly, even if he had only been six years old at the time. His little brother brought a lot of joy to the household, and while nothing changed in terms of how people treated Hansol, he felt like everything was different. He still received the same attention from the nannies and palace staff, but Chan grew up doing things Hansol never could. His brother could run around and get lost in the woods, and they wouldn’t even start looking for him until twenty minutes later; if Hansol tried to have a minute of privacy, he’d instantly have more than five people at his side asking if he needed anything or if he was alright.

That’s why he grew to hate people’s attention so much. He preferred to go unnoticed—though that was impossible. Without a doubt, his happiest years had been those at the academy. He was so busy with his studies that even at home, everyone stopped bothering him, and at the academy, he didn’t have a whole security team tailing him. For the first time, he had been free.

When he was younger, he often wondered why people were so obsessed with him. Every time he heard stories about his parents’ youth, he noticed just how different their lives had been. Though they had many responsibilities, his parents had also experienced true freedom. They could be alone, wander through gardens, or lock themselves in their rooms without someone knocking on their door every five minutes. Hansol often longed to live in that kind of peaceful era. But as he grew up, he came to understand the greatest difference between his life and his parents’: in their time, their lives hadn’t been constantly threatened by criminal organizations.

Eleven years ago, an unprecedented event had taken place in the neighboring kingdom of Dravaryn. The most infamous and dangerous criminal group—perhaps of all time—had carried out a massacre that would go down in history as The Royal Slaughter. After spending decades hidden (and, according to many, imprisoned), the members of the Wen group attacked Dravaryn’s main castle on a night when the entire royal family had gathered. They massacred everyone, regardless of age, gender, or social standing, and took over the kingdom. Since then, Dravaryn had been under a ruthless dictatorship from which they had yet to escape, and every neighboring kingdom lived under the shadow of that threat.

That night, when the Wen seized power, they declared something deeply disturbing: they would expand their reign across the continent, starting by hunting down all the crown princes of other kingdoms to turn them into slaves.

Fortunately, Hansol had yet to fall victim to the Wen, but the fear lingered in him, his family, and the entire kingdom.

Perhaps that’s why everyone was so desperate for him to get married soon. He had just turned twenty-eight a few months ago, and in Florienne, it was practically unthinkable for someone to reach that age without being married—especially the crown prince himself. The average age for marriage ranged from eighteen to twenty-four, which Hansol found ridiculously young. He had no desire to get married anytime soon—perhaps not ever—and his parents didn’t pressure him to do so. Jihoon and Jeonghan knew all too well what it was like to have their parents breathing down their necks, demanding they marry. On top of that, their own relationship was the result of an arranged marriage that had gone terribly wrong. 

So yes, they were understanding when it came to Hansol—but no one else was! His grandparents were a living nightmare, especially Jihoon’s mother, who probably loved Hansol more than she loved herself. Every time her grandson visited, she would immediately bombard him with the same topic. And it wasn’t anything new—it had been happening since Hansol turned seventeen.

“Next year is very important... do you already have a betrothed?”

“Happy eighteenth! So, who’s your betrothed?”

“At your age, your father was already planning his wedding.”

“Twenty and still unmarried? I expected more from you.”

“Are you planning to waste your whole life?”

“Why don’t you marry that little friend of yours, the duke?”

“You’re twenty-three, with so many good options to marry, and still haven’t done it... what’s wrong with you?”

“This can’t be my grandson... do you really carry my blood?”

“I’ve never known a prince who was still single at twenty-five.”

“Are you planning to grow old and never get married? Who do you want to inherit the kingdom? Chan?! That irresponsible child?!”

“Did you know that when I was twenty-seven, your father was eleven?”

“If you reach thirty and you’re still single, I swear I’ll kill you... no, wait. If you reach twenty-nine and you’re still single, I’ll kill you, my beloved grandson.”

That had been a rather terrifying ultimatum, and it had left Hansol deep in thought for the past few months. And well, even though Joshua was undeniably a great option for marriage—considering he was his closest friend, or actually his only real friend, and they knew each other well—something just didn’t sit right with him. He knew he didn’t need to be in love with the duke to marry him, but... damn, he had grown up watching the love between Jeonghan and Jihoon, and he longed for the same thing.

So then, why, out of all the people who had proposed marriage to him, had Hansol decided to go for the one person who hadn’t?

Simple. He liked Seungkwan.

He didn’t know when it started—maybe it was last year, the first time in his life he realized just how much the younger boy stared at him during that ball, or maybe a few months later when Seungkwan officially joined his team, or even two years ago, when he first began his internship... in the end, it didn’t really matter. He just knew he liked the boy. And he’d been feeling that way for a while now.

Hansol just had a slight problem... and it was that the habit from his childhood—the one where he got everything he wanted with just a look or a word—hadn’t entirely gone away. He thought that if he proposed to Seungkwan, the younger would accept without hesitation.

For all the time he’d spent watching Seungkwan lately, that tiny detail had completely slipped past him...

Seungkwan didn’t seem to like him very much. In fact, one could even say he hated him—a little, at least.

Chapter Text

Was it even possible to hate the person you were in love with? Well, if it wasn’t, Seungkwan was ready to be the proof that confirmed it.

“You’re asking me to marry you just like that? That’s not like you at all, Hansol.”

Hansol... it had been a long time since he’d called him that directly. Seungkwan shut his mouth and lowered his gaze to his hands, feeling his face burn. Hansol cleared his throat.

“I...”

“Besides, you must have plenty of proposals from people more important or suitable than me... There are even rumors that you're going to marry Duke Hong! Why don’t you marry him? You two look good together.”

“I don’t like Joshua. He’s my friend.”

“You don’t have to like him, you just said it would be an arranged marriage.”

“Yes, but I want to marry you.” Hansol could be so blunt sometimes it was almost scary. He looked at Seungkwan with determination, and the next words slipped from the younger’s mouth as he thought out loud:

“Holy shit.”

Hansol didn’t even flinch. He simply stood up and began to pace around the office, closely watched by Seungkwan’s stunned eyes. He was truly shaken. He’d always known the prince was a little unhinged—sure, he was brilliant, but at times he seemed to lack even a single drop of common sense. He was like... a smart idiot.

And while it was flattering in some twisted way that the crown prince wanted him as his consort, Seungkwan couldn’t help but also feel a bit offended because... well, he was in love with Hansol. Having him propose marriage—an arranged one, no less—felt like a slap to the face. He had never seriously thought about being romantically involved with the future monarch, but now knowing he’d never have him in a romantic way while being stuck in a marriage with him? What a nightmare.

“You don’t need to answer right away,” Hansol said after a few minutes of silence, sitting back down across from him. “I only ask that you do it soon... or well, not too soon, but preferably before February eighteenth next year, alright?”

Seungkwan frowned, not understanding why Hansol was being so specific, but in the end, he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll think about it.”

Hansol smiled just a little. Very little. Seungkwan only noticed because—

Yeah. He was completely in love with that man.

When he got home, the first thing he did was tell his favorite gossips—his parents—who were somehow even more shocked than him.

“Wait, aren’t you in love with Chan?” Mingyu asked with a pitiful expression. Seungkwan gave him a disgusted look.

“Why would you even think that?” he tried to control his tone when addressing his father, but it still sounded like he was about to throw up.

“You and Chan have always been so close...” Seungcheol began with dreamy eyes, “I just thought you two were... you know. Though honestly, even before you were born, I thought you and Eunbi would’ve been an adorable cou—”

“Dad,” Seungkwan cut him off, raising his hand as a silent please stop, and Seungcheol smiled sheepishly and nodded. “Look, I’ll say it one more time: Chan and Eunbi are my best friends. I do not want to sleep with them, and especially not marry them!” Neither Mingyu nor Seungcheol were surprised by their son’s vulgar vocabulary, so they didn’t even bother to scold him. It was normal for Seungkwan to be his most authentic self around them—sometimes even more explosive—since he had to maintain a certain composure at work and in the eyes of society. “I’ve only ever liked one person in my life, and it’s the idiot who just proposed to me.”

“Congratulations?” Mingyu tilted his head. In any other situation, Seungkwan would’ve laughed, but right now, all he wanted to do was rip Hansol’s hair out—and maybe his own while he was at it.

“No, there’s no congratulations, Dad... If Hansol were in love with me, I wouldn’t be here complaining. But he only wants to marry me because of social pressure.” Seungcheol and Mingyu exchanged confused glances, and Seungkwan sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, frustrated. “I don’t get it either! He’s an idiot! Doesn’t he realize how much it hurts me when he says things like that? Well, of course he doesn’t realize, because he’s an idiot. But still... the worst part is that I want to say yes!”

“What? Why?” Seungcheol asked him.

“Because some stupid part of me believes he might fall in love with me eventually,” he admitted, defeated. Mingyu stood up from his seat and went over to hug Seungkwan. “I felt so relieved when he said he didn’t like Duke Hong... He looked really sincere when he said it.”

Mingyu pulled away from him and sat by his side, placing a comforting hand on the young man’s arm.

“He’s the only person Hansol seems close to, that’s why we all thought he’d eventually marry him,” Mingyu said.

“Thankfully he didn’t... Even if I want to kill Hansol right now, I’m glad he chose to propose to me instead of pleasing everyone and marrying the duke.” He smiled, blushing a little. “I’m kind of an idiot too. Not as much as him, but...” he let out a silly giggle. “Ah, shit. I think I’m going to say yes.”

“Before you make any rash decisions, make two lists,” Seungcheol said out of nowhere. He pulled out two blank sheets of paper—who knows from where—and a pen. He handed them to Seungkwan, who took them, confused. “On one, write all the pros of marrying Hansol, and on the other, all the cons. Then analyze which one holds more weight, and that’s how you’ll decide your answer, alright?”

“Got it, Dad,” Seungkwan replied, sounding more resolved than he actually felt.

But once in his room, staring at the two blank pages lying side by side on his desk, he found himself just as empty-handed as before. He bit his lip, twirling the pen in his fingers, trying to come up with something—anything—to write, but nothing came to mind.

He knew that before he could make those lists, he needed to do something crucial: call his best friends. He was aware they wouldn’t be all that helpful, because if they made a ranking from smartest to dumbest of the three of them, Seungkwan would come in third place, second would remain empty, and Eunbi and Chan would be fighting over first. Still, he needed to hear their opinions.

“My brother’s insane. No matter how much you love money, don’t marry him. Especially not in an arranged marriage,” Chan told him, oddly calm and serious. Only that Seungkwan could read his friends even without seeing their faces, so he knew that idiotic prince was totally mocking him. “I know it’d be a dream come true for you, but Hansol... he’s not normal. He’s even dumber than you—”

“Did you just call me dumb?” Seungkwan interrupted him.

“—and in general, he’s not a great match,” Chan kept talking, completely ignoring Seungkwan’s protest. “If you want to be happy, marry m—”

The call ended.

As in, Seungkwan hung up. He was so done with that stupid marriage joke between him and Chan. What was worse was that both their families were convinced it was going to happen someday. But as he’d made very clear to his parents that day: that wasn’t the case. He and Chan were friends. They loved each other, of course—but not in the way everyone else wanted them to. That most people around them had convinced themselves they’d end up married wasn’t his problem. What was becoming a problem was that every time Chan joked about it, the adults’ delusions grew even worse.

Anyway, he called Eunbi next, who might—or might not—be more helpful than Chan.

“Say yes. Isn’t this what you’ve been waiting for your whole life?”

“It’s just... I never actually expected I’d have the chance to marry him.”

“Well, take it! My cousin’s a total catch. He’s an idiot, sure, but you can tell he’d make a great husband.”

“The problem is that it’s a fucking arranged marriage! He’s not in love with me!” Seungkwan exclaimed.

“So what? Besides marrying him, you want him to love you too? You’re so damn picky, Seungkwan—”

Another call ended.

Again, Seungkwan hung up.

He had two completely useless friends.

He shot his phone a dirty look and returned to his desk. Sitting down, he stared at the blank sheets again.

Well, thanks to the total lack of help from his friends, now he did know what to write.

Chapter Text

The pages were full. Well, only one of them was —the other had just a couple of things scribbled down.

«Pros of marrying Hansol:

- My life would be set»

«Cons of marrying Hansol: 

- I’m in love and he isn’t, which would turn living together into torture

- He’s an idiot

- He proposed like it was a business deal —which it kinda was

- I hate him, he’s a damn idiot

- His parents think I want to marry Chan and that he wants to marry me

- Hansol is the crown prince. If we get married and he becomes king, I’ll be his consort. That terrifies me. Me, ruling? What a joke, I’m a goddamn lunatic, I’d ruin the kingdom

- I like him too much

- He doesn’t like me

- Arranged marriages are terrifying and a complete insult to true love

- I want to marry for love

- But I only love Hansol

- So if I don’t marry him, I’ll never marry anyone

- What a life

- Everything’s shit

- I hate you, Hansol, this is all your fault»

Seungkwan buried his face in his hands to muffle a scream of frustration and kicked his legs like a madman on the chair—only to stop dead when he heard it creak. Before the damn chair broke into pieces under him, he dragged himself back to bed and collapsed onto it, staring blankly at the boring flat white ceiling.

He wanted to get married. He wanted to be with someone he loved who loved him back, wanted to have children—preferably two—and dreamed of owning a big, spacious house for his family. The issue was… no one besides Hansol and Chan had ever proposed to him. Hansol because, well, he needed to get married, and Chan because he just wanted the easy way out and skip all the messy parts like meeting someone or, you know, falling in love.

Another thing that worried Seungkwan was the age gap between him and Hansol. That was totally normal in the kingdom—in fact, the five-year gap between them could be considered minimal, but not for Seungkwan. He’d always felt that gap pushed them apart, and honestly, it was the very reason that damn prince still saw him as “my little brother’s best friend.”

He made the two lists just like his dad had told him, listened to the crap Eunbi and Chan had to say, and sat with his thoughts for hours. Yet he still had no idea what to do.

Meanwhile, the magnificent Crown Prince of Florienne did know what to do to keep his parents from suspecting anything about his sudden engagement to Seungkwan (even though the boy hadn’t even answered him yet).

“I’m going to marry Seungkwan,” he said as if he were talking about the weather, while they were all gathered in the castle’s sitting room having tea. Jeonghan nearly spat his drink out and Jihoon froze with the cup still pressed to his lips. Hansol sipped his tea with his usual elegance. “He hasn’t said yes yet, but...”

“With Kwannie?” Jeonghan asked, the very image of confusion in human form. “That’s impossible. He and Chan are getting married.”

“They’re not,” Hansol rushed to say, carefully placing his teacup back onto its saucer.

“You’re not saying this because of the pressure my mother’s putting on you, are you?” Jihoon questioned, setting down his own steaming cup. Hansol cleared his throat and loosened his tie slightly, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. “Son… you know we’re not fans of arranged marriages. Don’t do this just to please everyone else, especially not with Seungkwan.”

“Jihoon’s right,” Jeonghan added, “Besides, Kwannie works with you, and he and Chan are—”

“They’re just friends,” Hansol interrupted firmly. “They’re not in love, and they’re not getting married.” Ignoring Jeonghan’s frown, Hansol turned to look at his other father. “Seungkwan and I are in love,” he lied shamelessly, “That’s why we’re getting married.”

“In love?” the two kings echoed.

“I’ve never even seen you interact with him like a normal person since you both became adults,” Jihoon said, clearly unconvinced. “You look way closer to Joshua. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if you said this about him instead.”

“I don’t want to marry Joshua. I want to marry Seungkwan,” Hansol muttered, determined.

“So it’s just a whim?” Jeonghan tilted his head. “What an idiot you are.”

“Dad!” Hansol protested.

“We don’t believe you one bit. We’re going to Seungcheol and Mingyu’s house right now to ask them about this nonsense,” Jeonghan declared with enough firmness to make Hansol flinch. Jihoon nodded in complete agreement with his husband, and the two promptly left the sitting room, already calling for a carriage.

Hansol waited for the door to click shut before jumping up from the comfy armchair and rushing to the landline phone in the sitting room. He dialed Seungkwan’s number quickly—he somehow had it memorized—and closed his eyes, praying the boy would pick up.

“Choi Seungkwan speaking, who—”

“Seungkwan, my parents are on their way to your house.”

“Your Highness?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Hansol,” he said, tripping a little over his own words from how fast he was speaking. “So, here’s the thing: I told my parents we’re getting married because we’re in love and now they’re going to your place to talk to yours.”

“Why the hell would you do that!? I literally told my parents last night that you proposed to me out of convenience!”

“And I told mine we’re in love. So now we get to figure out how to make both stories work.”

Seungkwan sighed loud and long into the phone and muttered a not-so-nice word aimed directly at Hansol. That stupid prince was going to pay for this. He glanced over at the two sheets on his desk and wished he could walk over and set them on fire.

“Alright,” he finally said, giving in. “So, what, we have to pretend we’re in love?”

“At least until we’re married and living together,” Hansol replied.

“I haven’t even said yes to marrying you, are you brain-dead or—”

“Let’s just say you did. It’s too late to change the story now.”

Seungkwan’s jaw dropped, completely outraged. God, if he could, he’d murder Hansol in the most brutal and drawn-out way possible, without caring for a second if he ended up regretting killing the only man he’d ever loved.

“I swear I’m going to poison your food once we’re living together, Your Highness,” he hissed, and Hansol let out a laugh that sounded almost robotic.

“You’re so funny, Seungkwan... so that’s a ‘yes’? Perfect,” Hansol continued before Seungkwan could tell him to shove that “yes” where the sun doesn’t shine. “I’ll come to your house too, to ask your parents to let you marry me.”

“There’s no way they’ll believe you, Your Highness. I already told you, I spoke to them last night and—” Seungkwan froze, suddenly remembering the way he’d confessed his unrequited love to his parents. Oh god. If Hansol showed up, his parents were perfectly capable of saying something idiotic like, ‘Oh, so Hansol loves Seungkwan too? What a relief.’ That would be the single most humiliating moment of his life. He could handle the kings knowing he was in love with their son, but Hansol himself? No, thank you. “A-Actually, there’s no need for you to come over. I’ll convince my parents myself,” he stammered. “I... uh... if you come, you’ll ruin everything.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll call you later, okay?” he said, finger hovering over the end call button. “If everything goes to hell, I’ll just disappear from everyone’s lives and you’ll have to marry the duke or whoever. Bye.” He hung up and immediately smacked his forehead against the wall. “Ow shit, that hurts!” he yelped, grabbing his head with both hands before collapsing onto the floor.

What a goddamn shitty day.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan heard laughter and stopped halfway down the stairs. Holding onto the railing, he leaned forward slightly to peek into the living room, where he saw the royal couple sitting side by side, and his parents across from them, the four of them chatting and joking around. He let out a breath of relief, as he hadn’t heard anything in their conversation yet about his supposed engagement to Hansol, so he was about to head back upstairs and pretend nothing had happened. But thank heavens for his sharp hearing—because just as he stepped on the first stair to return to his room, something made him freeze and move back into position.

“…Then Hansol told us he proposed to Kwannie,” said King Jeonghan. “According to him, they’re in love, but that surprised me. It’s the first time I hear about this, and about Hansol being in love in general. I simply can’t believe it.”

Shit.

Seungkwan practically flew down the stairs before his parents could say a single word, and with heavy breaths and sweat soaking his whole body, he appeared in the living room.

“Uncles!” he gasped. “Y-you’re here!”

“Seungkwan?!” Seungcheol rushed to catch him just as the young man was about to collapse on the floor. “Are you alright? What’s going on?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” he waved it off and used the same hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. “I… uh, isn’t it too hot today? I think I’m going to faint.”

Suddenly, all four adults were crowding around him, looking concerned. Seungkwan let out a nervous laugh and sat down on the floor, slowly calming his breathing.

“Why are you so out of breath, Seungkwan?” Mingyu asked, trying to help him up, but the boy refused.

“I’m better now, you can all sit down, it’s nothing,” he tried to ease their worry with a smile, and although still doubtful, they all returned to their seats. “I… was heading to the kitchen,” he lied effortlessly, “and overheard a bit of your conversation about Hansol’s proposal.”

“Oh, right! We came to ask your parents about that. It’s good you showed up at the perfect time,” Jeonghan said. “So, is it true, Seungkwan? Are you really in love, or was our son just making things up?”

“But Seungkwan explained to us last night that Hansol only proposed out of convenience…” Seungcheol said to the king before Seungkwan could even come up with a decent lie.

“Just as we suspected, darling,” Jihoon sighed, turning to his husband, who nodded. “It’s all because of the pressure my mother’s been putting on Hansol…” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again. “I’m so sorry, Seungkwan. You don’t deserve this—”

“That’s not true, uncle, there’s no need to apologize. Actually, I…” Seungkwan cursed Hansol in every possible way internally, but on the outside, he had to look like the sweet, lovestruck boy, so he put on his best smile and gaze as he spoke to the king. “I love Hansol, and he loves me too.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” Mingyu scolded, and Seungkwan had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He clenched his fists and gave his dad a trembling look.

“I was just overwhelmed and confused yesterday because I didn’t expect his feelings for me to be that strong,” smiling was starting to hurt, but the act had to go on.

“You don’t have to lie to protect Hansol, Kwannie,” Jeonghan said with a pout. “If he asked you to say all that, I’ll scold him, alright? Don’t worry. Besides, we know you haven’t given him an answer yet—you don’t have to say yes! Marry someone you truly want to marry.”

“I want to marry Hansol, uncle,” he finally said something honest. Slowly, he unclenched his fists and sighed. “I’m truly in love with your son. I think I always have been. For years, it was an impossible love, but… not anymore.” And that’s where the lies started again. To sound more natural, he began speaking as if the delusions he’d been suffering since he was thirteen were real. “Yesterday, I acted like a madman and said things that weren’t true because I was upset with Hansol for proposing so suddenly and in such a boring place like the office; I was expecting something more romantic. Also, since we don’t have an official relationship or anything, I never seriously considered that he might return my feelings.” He just hoped everyone was so deep into the story they wouldn’t notice all the contradictions and nonsense. Damn it, the mess that prince had dragged him into.

“I don’t believe you,” Seungcheol crossed his arms, frowning. Seungkwan bit his tongue to stop himself from swearing. “Yesterday you seemed so sincere, unlike now.”

“I am being sincere! I…” he remembered a key detail and—bingo! “I made up my mind when you told me to make two lists, Dad. I called Hansol and asked if his proposal was genuine, if he really loved me, and he said he did. That’s when all my doubts faded away.” He imagined a world where that conversation actually happened and couldn’t help but smile like a hopeless romantic. “But I haven’t said yes yet. I gave him one condition.”

“Huh? What is it?” Mingyu asked.

“That he asks for my hand properly—from you,” Seungkwan said, looking at his parents. “Until he does, I won’t accept.”

“That’s it?” Jihoon asked seriously. “Are you sure you’re not lying?” Seungkwan swallowed hard and nodded. “You won’t regret marrying our son?”

He really hoped he wouldn’t.

“Of course not,” he replied, giving his best impression of a man who wasn’t worried in the slightest.

“You sure?” This time it was Seungcheol who asked, and he nodded, looking anything but sure. “One hundred percen—”

“Yes, Dad,” he cut him off, already exhausted. “You know what? I’ll call Hansol right now to say yes, just so you can all see how sure I am about marrying him.”

If at that moment someone had given Seungkwan the choice between doing what he was about to do or vanishing into thin air, he would’ve chosen to disappear without hesitation. But he couldn’t. That’s why he found himself once again surrounded by his parents and the royal couple, holding the landline phone from the living room to his ear while he waited for Hansol to pick up.

“You are now being connected to line three of the royal fa—”

“Cha, it’s me,” he interrupted the usual automated greeting from the woman who answered every time Hansol’s private line was called.

“Oh, Mr. Choi, I’ll put you through to His Highness shortly.” After a pleasant little melody and a beep, Seungkwan heard the voice of the man who fueled every single one of his homicidal thoughts.

“Seungkwan?”

“Hansol… I accept.”

“Uh…”

“I’m saying yes! I accept your proposal, you idiot!” he yelled, desperate. The phone visibly trembled in his hand. “Your parents and mine don’t believe we’re really in love, and I’m trying to prove it to them… darling.”

“…They can hear me?” Seungkwan pressed a button on the phone to switch it to speaker mode.

“They can now. Tell them it’s real.”

“Uh… I told you we’re in love, do you believe us now? Will you give us your blessing?”

“I think you should’ve asked that before proposing to me,” Seungkwan muttered. “…darling,” he added, a beat too late.

“Don’t call me darling, it gives me chills,” Hansol said a little too sincerely, and the four parents present glanced at each other with suspicion. Seungkwan slapped his forehead, already feeling like it was all over and that his efforts had been in vain. He knew Hansol was capable of ruining everything, but he hadn’t expected him to do it over a phone call. Realizing he’d messed up from the dead silence on the other end, Hansol let out a loud laugh. “I’m just joking! It’s just… we’re not used to calling each other cute names… sweetheart.”

“We have to now that we’re engaged,” Seungkwan laughed, painfully fake.

“You’re right… well, I need to go to the bathroom, so I’ll hang up now.”

“Bye.” Seungkwan hung up before Hansol could and turned expectantly to the four adults watching him with raised eyebrows. They all had the exact same expression. “Are you convinced now?”

He swore all four of them sighed in defeat at the same time.

“You know what? You’re twenty-three now. I suppose you can deal with your own mistakes,” said Mingyu, and it sounded an awful lot like a threat.

“Just don’t come crying to us later, alright?” Seungcheol added with a sweet smile that also felt like a threat.

“What can we do…” Jihoon muttered, shaking his head in disappointment.

“Why did it have to be Hansol and not Chan?” Jeonghan complained dramatically.

Seungkwan gave a dry, joyless laugh and left them in the living room, dragging himself back to his bedroom.

“Fucking hell.”

Chapter Text

Wine-red and olive-green walls. Lavish, yet not overly excessive decorations. Silent but ever-present servants. Large, spacious rooms, an immense library, a courtyard that seemed endless, and gardens that felt almost mystical. This was the Lee-Yoon Mansion, the place where the current monarchs of Florienne had met, fallen in love, married, and raised their two sons.

“What terrible taste…” was the first thing Seungkwan muttered upon stepping inside. Neither the decoration nor the chosen colors pleased him in the slightest.

“I think it’s all rather charming,” Eunbi said as she passed by his side, carrying one of the boxes Seungkwan had brought to what would now be his new home. He shot the princess a displeased look and followed her.

Hwang Eunbi, the only daughter of Florienne’s princess—King Jeonghan’s younger sister. Eunbi was the exact replica of her mother in her youth, except her personality was far, far worse. For some reason, her friendship with Seungkwan had somehow survived until now.

“You shouldn’t even be here, you know that?” he complained, struggling to keep up with her pace as she climbed the stairs. “Don’t you have other obligations? I don’t know… something in court, maybe?”

“There’s a meeting today,” she said, dropping the box carelessly onto the floor when they reached the second floor. Seungkwan groaned, picking it up again before glancing down the long hallway ahead of them. “But I’ll skip it just to help you. How does that sound?”

“I don’t want your help, Your Highness, thank you,” he replied. The blonde only laughed as if he’d told a joke. Seungkwan started walking, peeking into the interiors of the rooms as they passed—most of the doors were left wide open. When they reached the very last room, he smiled. “This one is great,” he said, stepping inside and setting the box down beside the bed before sitting on its edge. “It’s really comfortable, Eunbi!”

“Idiot, haven’t you noticed? Take a proper look around.” Seungkwan did, but noticed nothing unusual and turned to her, confused. “This room’s already occupied. Look at the suitcase on the other side of the bed,” she pointed out, stating the obvious. “And listen to the water running.” She pressed her ear against the other door in the room—the bathroom door. “Hansol is showering.”

“Huh? How do you know?” Seungkwan asked curiously, stepping up beside her. He pressed his ear to the wooden door and, indeed, could hear the sound of the shower just as Eunbi had said.

“I’m simply too brilliant for this world; that’s why no one can stand me,” she said with a smug smile, giving no real answer to Seungkwan’s question. “Well, unless you want to see my cousin stark naked when he comes out, let’s find you another room to unpack in.” She pushed herself away from the door, picked up Seungkwan’s box, and stepped out. As she turned back to close the door, she saw him still standing exactly where he’d been before. “Seungkwan! Don’t be a pervert!”

And so, a very flustered Seungkwan ended up settling in the room next door with the help of his best friend.

He honestly didn’t know how to feel about this new stage of his life. The Velmorian tradition of engaged couples living together while their families arranged the wedding wasn’t very common nowadays. Only a few families still kept it alive, which was why Seungkwan hadn’t expected Hansol—and the kings—to drag him into it, especially Jeonghan, whose excuse had been, “That’s how Jihoon and I fell in love.”

In truth, Seungkwan couldn’t imagine anything more boring than being cut off from the outside world in a secluded mansion for months, living only with Hansol. Well, it wouldn’t be torture if the prince actually returned his feelings—but he didn’t. He understood the reasoning behind the tradition to some extent, and why Jeonghan and Jihoon had planned this; this forced cohabitation was supposed to bring betrothed couples closer together, especially those with arranged marriages. But that only worked if both people were willing to make an effort.

Because of Hansol’s urgency, the wedding would take place in just one or two months, so they wouldn’t be locked away living together for as long as Jeonghan and Jihoon had been.

“I’ll try to look on the bright side,” he told Eunbi, sitting on the bed with her once they’d finished arranging all of Seungkwan’s belongings in the room. “I’ll take this time as some well-deserved vacation. I haven’t really rested since I finished university.”

“That’s not the only bright side! You’re going to be king someday!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t that amazing?”

“You love power so much but hate the responsibilities that come with it, don’t you?” She had no comeback for that and only smiled, shrugging her shoulders. Seungkwan huffed and gave the young woman a gentle push. “You should leave now. I’m going to explore the place a little.”

“Let’s explore togeth—”

“No.” He jumped to his feet and opened the door to step out of the room. Right at that moment, he nearly bumped into Hansol, who had his fist raised, about to knock.

“Oh, you’re here already,” the older man murmured with a small smile, lowering his hand. “Have you settled in?”

Seungkwan’s gaze swept over him from head to toe. Hansol’s hair was still damp, a few droplets of water sliding down loose strands. He wore a plain white T-shirt and soft, loose-fitting blue pajama pants. He looked… like a normal person—not the crown prince of the realm—and somehow, that made Seungkwan like him even more. Damn it, Hansol looked good.

“I helped him settle in,” Eunbi suddenly appeared beside Seungkwan, framed in the doorway. “Why did you take so long in the shower? Were you doing something dirty?” Hansol opened his mouth to defend himself but no sound came out, and the young woman burst into laughter. “Anyway, I’m leaving. I hope your first day living together goes well.”

Hansol stepped aside to let her out, still a bit indignant at what she’d just said, and watched her disappear down the staircase at the end of the hall.

“Chan and she are so alike,” the prince sighed, shaking his head before turning his gaze back to Seungkwan, who was finally snapping out of his trance. “Anyway, are you comfortable here?”

“Yes…”

“That’s good to hea—”

“Don’t think I’m happy about this, Your Highness!” Seungkwan spat the title with a mix of disgust and mockery. “Now I’m tied to you for life, all because of you.” He jabbed his index finger into the older man’s chest, accusing him. “I hope you know how to take responsibility.”

“Do as you like. We just have to look married for society.” Hansol gently brushed Seungkwan’s finger away and smiled. “What’s so wrong with that?”

Ah, what a question… what was wrong with this engagement? Nothing. It wasn’t like Seungkwan was in love with him, and being together in this way didn’t feel like a dagger twisting into his heart, because it was like having what he wanted most within reach yet still blocked by an invisible wall he could never cross…

Seungkwan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Nothing,” he answered Hansol, stepping out of the room. “You’re right, there’s nothing wrong with it.”

Chapter Text

In the blink of an eye, there were only three days left until the wedding.

It had been the most boring month of Seungkwan’s life: he hadn’t worked, he hadn’t seen his friends or parents much, and he hadn’t even stepped outside the mansion. The farthest he’d gone was into the garden, where there were all kinds of beautiful flowers. His favorite spot was the section full of multicolored chrysanthemums—he somehow felt a bit connected to them. He spent most of his days sitting in the shady corners of the garden or trying to read books from the library, books he always abandoned halfway through because they were far too long and dull.

And knowing that in just three days he would officially be married… it terrified him.

He wouldn’t be able to keep working with Hansol, which meant he’d be unemployed until further notice. That was a harsh blow for him—he needed something to distract himself, and work was the best option! Spending twenty-four hours a day in that mansion doing absolutely nothing? That sounded like a nightmare.

And once they were married, Hansol would continue with his duties as prince, so he probably wouldn’t even spend much time at home. Which meant Seungkwan would be left all alone in a giant mansion, with no one familiar nearby… great.

He wasn’t even married yet, and he already regretted it.

“What should I do, Chan?” he whimpered into the phone.

“I told you not to agree to it, but you never listen to me.”

“I had to!”

“Were you forced to do it?” Seungkwan didn’t respond, too irritated to say anything. “You could have just told my parents and yours the truth, but instead you decided to go along with Hansol’s plan. I hate to say it, but you’re in this mess because of yourself.”

“I know, but… damn it, I didn’t expect to feel this awful. I’ve got this horrible feeling that I’m going to be unhappy for the rest of my life.”

“Then break off the engagement,” Chan said. “There’s still time.”

“But the consequences…”

“My dad did it, and he’s alive. Nothing’s going to happen to you.” Chan’s tone was so casual that Seungkwan could picture his friend lying on his bed, staring at his nails without a care in the world. And of course, it made sense—Chan was a prince, someone who couldn’t face any truly harsh consequences, unlike Seungkwan.

Even if his family was closely tied to the royal family, and even if the kings were his “uncles,” Seungkwan could face punishment from parliament if he broke off his engagement to the crown prince—especially with so little time left before the wedding.

Besides, his situation wasn’t exactly like the one Jihoon and Jeonghan went through when they were young. Back then, the engagement between his father Seungcheol and King Lee had been broken because someone else entered the picture—King Yoon, to be exact. But for Seungkwan, it wasn’t like that. Even if someone else were to appear, his feelings for Hansol wouldn’t simply disappear. He had tried to erase those feelings for years and never succeeded. They clearly wouldn’t vanish in just seventy-two hours.

After ending the call with Chan, he decided to leave the mansion—he felt like he was suffocating. He walked past the garden, venturing into the forest surrounding the residence. And, since he had absolutely no idea how to navigate it, he got lost within minutes. He didn’t worry too much, though; he knew at least a dozen servants were probably out looking for him already. So he simply sat under a tree, leaning his back against the trunk to rest for a while.

Night fell sooner than he expected, yet he still didn’t feel concerned. Deep down, he hoped no one would find him. Maybe that way, he could escape everything without being punished or reprimanded by his parents.

He was an idiot—especially for falling in love with the one person he could truly never have.

He had been surrounded by so many people, so many willing to give him love, and yet his eyes had always stayed fixed on Hansol. And now here he was, lost in a forest in the middle of the night, with no one having found him yet… and strangely, he felt a sense of peace.

But at the same time, an immense sadness weighed on him.

He curled into himself, burying his face between his knees and wrapping his arms around his body.

Why was he like this?

He didn’t want to be found, but desperately hoped someone was searching for him. He couldn’t even decide how he wanted to feel. Just like he loved Hansol but also despised him with every fiber of his being, he also hated himself for his foolish decisions, yet still wished for the best for himself—he still wanted to be happy. Who could ever understand him?

He was already twenty-three years old. Time kept moving forward, he would keep aging, and he would never go back to being a teenager or a child. Yet somehow, he felt stuck.

Maybe it was his attitude, but he loathed seeing people his age—or even younger—achieve so much while he couldn’t manage anything meaningful. Yes, he had studied, graduated with honors, and had a good job working alongside the prince… until he agreed to that engagement. But beyond that, what else had he really done?

When his parents were his age, they had already been knights for years and had even retired from the profession. Even Chan, a year younger than him, was at the height of his career as a knight, leading troops of thousands of soldiers—and he hadn’t reached that position just for being the son of kings, but through his own merit.

Compared to all of them, Seungkwan was a failure.

A failure who couldn’t even find his way back home after getting lost in a forest. A failure who couldn’t choose reason over his heart. A failure who had condemned himself to an unhappy life just to half-fulfill a foolish whim.

He wanted so badly to marry Hansol—but in the end, for what? What was he really trying to achieve? It wasn’t like he cared much about power. Sure, he liked money, but he could have enough of it through his parents and his own work.

Did he really want to marry the person he loved just to be by his side? Even knowing he would never be loved in return?

“I’ve hit rock bottom,” he mocked himself. And he had every reason to do so. So many reasons.

He had truly fallen so low… all for a love he was never going to have.

Chapter Text

He knew those towering trees very well. After all, he’d spent the best days of his childhood climbing them. One of his nannies used to call him “little monkey,” and that’s precisely why Hansol had hated her—and preferred spending his time at Mingyu and Seungcheol’s house instead. They let him climb trees, run around, get dirty, and they never gave him those silly nicknames. He would always be indebted to the two of them for making his childhood feel as normal as it possibly could, for treating him like a person beyond his title.

And now, he needed to find the only son of those two men—who had been missing for over six hours.

Clearly, no one had informed them yet that Seungkwan wasn’t in the mansion; the servants had believed they could handle it quietly, and Hansol hadn’t worried. Until he did. The servants started returning to the mansion one by one, none of them with any trace of Seungkwan. Many were already ready to give up and wanted to contact a professional search team, but Hansol wasn’t about to allow that. If a search team got involved, his parents would be notified, and the moment they found out Seungkwan was missing, they would tell the young man’s parents without hesitation and… Hansol would be in serious trouble.

He stopped in the middle of the forest, inhaling and exhaling slowly a few times to steady himself—he needed a clear head to find his fiancé. He glanced at his wristwatch: a quarter to midnight. He cursed under his breath. He had to be up early at six in the morning for their suit fitting appointment. He’d tried negotiating with the tailor for a later time, but the elderly man had refused, saying he worked best in the early hours. Hansol usually went to bed early whenever he needed to wake up at dawn, but now that plan was completely ruined, all thanks to his fiancé’s disappearance.

The real question was: why on earth had Seungkwan vanished? Was he trying to run away?

Exhausted, Hansol leaned his arm against the trunk of a tree to catch his breath. And that’s when he saw him—curled up just a few steps away. Seungkwan was there, leaning against the tree directly in front of Hansol.

“Seungkwan,” he called, moving closer and crouching down to his level. “Are you alright?”

The young man lifted his head just slightly, and Hansol immediately noticed his eyes—red and brimming with tears.

“Ah… is it you?”

Was it just Hansol’s imagination, or did Seungkwan look genuinely upset with him?

“Come on, get up,” Hansol straightened and offered his hand to the younger man, who only glanced at it with disdain before standing on his own. Hansol cleared his throat awkwardly and slipped the rejected hand into his trouser pocket. “What were you doing out here at this hour? It’s dangerous.”

“I got lost.” Seungkwan shrugged and started walking.

“This way,” Hansol corrected, heading in the opposite direction. A few seconds later, he felt Seungkwan fall into step beside him. He glanced sideways, noticing the faint blush on the younger man’s cheeks. “Did you forget that tomorrow is our suit fitting?”

“Is it tomorrow?” Seungkwan asked, though he didn’t look all that surprised. Then he lifted his gaze, staring at the prince with a flicker of suspicion. “Hansol, why was it you who found me and not the servants?”

“They don’t know their way around the forest as well as I do,” Hansol replied, almost proudly.

Seungkwan rolled his eyes at that answer, and Hansol felt a tiny sting in his chest. Well… more than a tiny sting. He felt genuinely hurt. He had never done anything wrong to Seungkwan, yet the young man seemed to despise him. If they were to be married in just two days, the least he could do was hide those decidedly unkind feelings. That was why Hansol decided to take the risk and ask:

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Seungkwan froze in place, eyes widening.

“I don’t hate you!”

“Yes, you do. You’re always glaring at me and you get annoyed with me so easily,” Hansol said, unconsciously pouting. “I know this whole marriage thing was sudden, and we haven’t seen much of each other lately, but… let’s at least try to be friends after the wedding. I promise I won’t bother you much—I’ll be busy with work anyway.”

Seungkwan’s glare only sharpened. He even looked angrier. Damn it, what was Hansol doing wrong? The young man crossed his arms, and the prince instinctively took a small step back.

“Friends?” Seungkwan let out a humorless laugh. “Ah… how curious. Friends. You’ll never be around, yet you want us to be friends… do you even know what you’re saying?”

Hansol couldn’t answer. He swallowed hard and moved ahead toward the mansion, knowing Seungkwan would follow close behind.

With each passing hour, the prince of Florienne began to think that maybe—just maybe—forcing Seungkwan into this marriage hadn’t been the brightest idea. But then again… if this young man hated him so much and despised the idea of being bound to him for life, why had he agreed? He could have made a scene, he could have even hit Hansol—Hansol wouldn’t have retaliated anyway. So why had he said “yes”?

Hansol glanced over his shoulder; as expected, Seungkwan was walking close behind him, looking truly disheartened.

Seungkwan loved money, Hansol knew that well. He’d overheard him complaining all the time to Minho, his scribe, since the walls of their office were thin. And he always had the same immediate answer whenever someone asked why, if he hated the job so much, he didn’t just let his parents find him something better. Seungkwan always said the same thing: “The pay is excellent.”

But… was his love for money really so strong that he’d endure a marriage he didn’t want?

Hansol turned his gaze forward again, frowning, lost in thought.

No, impossible… what Seungkwan truly wants is power. If he has power, he has money. And if he has both… he’ll be happy.

Then Hansol looked back at the boy behind him once more.

“What are you staring at me for!?”

Right. Hansol quickly turned back around. He could already see the mansion lights glowing not far away.

“Seungkwan…” he began, stopping in his tracks. “I’ll give you all the power you want, so you can be happy.”

He turned toward the young man, hope shimmering in his eyes.

But Seungkwan only glanced at him from head to toe, shoved both hands into his pockets, and walked right past him toward the mansion.

“It’s not power I want,” It’s you, he thought. But he didn’t say it aloud. His eyes burned, and before he knew it, he was running back to the house, leaving his fiancé behind—more confused than ever.

Chapter Text

Seungkwan’s bored expression hadn’t shown a single emotion since he woke up. He looked like a lifeless doll.

At the suit fitting, he followed all the old tailor’s instructions like a pre-programmed machine. During breakfast, he chewed without much interest. At the wedding rehearsal, he seemed absent, his eyes half-lidded, only snapping back to reality when his two best friends shook him by the shoulders at the same time.

From his place, Hansol watched his fiancé come back to life the moment Chan and Eunbi started pestering him. He looked so pure with them—smiling, getting annoyed at their teasing, finally allowing himself to appear vulnerable. Meanwhile, Hansol sat surrounded by an army of attendants talking to him about wedding decorations, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off Seungkwan.

He couldn’t hear the conversation they were having, but Seungkwan looked tired… sad. Eunbi was gently stroking his hair while Chan rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Would Hansol be able to give him that same kind of support once they were married? Would his support ever be enough to soften the hatred Seungkwan held toward him?

He liked that boy. He was handsome, sweet, intelligent… and though he could be a little temperamental, he was, in a way, “his type.” When Hansol thought about it, he realized he had never liked anyone as much as Seungkwan. And it wasn’t that he was in love with his fiancé—he had never been capable of feeling such strong emotions—but he thought that if he were to fall in love with someone someday… it wouldn’t be so bad if that person were him.

“Your Highness, red or gold?” asked the decorator, showing him two fabrics.

“The red one. I don’t know, whichever you like better,” he answered distractedly. The woman sighed and turned to her assistant, handing over the red fabric.

A few hours later, Seungkwan had to say goodbye to everyone who had attended the final wedding rehearsal. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to see his parents—they were far too busy to come—but he would see them the next day. At the wedding. The damned wedding.

Seungkwan was getting married in a day.

To Hansol.

He placed a hand over his chest, as if that would be enough to calm his erratic heartbeat, and took a deep breath. For many, marriage was a dream; for others, a nightmare. He would simply have to take whatever came. Whether it turned out to be a dream or a nightmare, there was nothing he could do now.

Chan had told him, after all:

“It can’t be that bad, right?” Eunbi had nodded in agreement, and Seungkwan had smiled just a little, feeling slightly calmer. “It’ll be hard at first, but there’s nothing you can’t get used to, Seungkwan. You’re strong.”

His best friend was right—he was strong! He had survived ten years of unrequited love, seven of which had very valid reasons for remaining “unrequited”… but no more suffering. Seungkwan was strong. He could handle anything from here on out… right?

Horrible.

He looked at the decorations with pure disgust before turning to the man in the tailored suit beside him. The ceremony had gone perfectly, their outfits matched, and now they were officially married. All that was left was the kiss. But how could he focus on that when the color palette was an absolute nightmare?

The ceremony was being held in a quaint little structure built in the garden just for this occasion. It could have been charming, straight out of a fairy tale, if only all the decorations hadn’t been a deep wine red that gave off more “war” than “wedding” vibes. Why had no one consulted him about this? The least he expected was a ceremony pleasant to the eye, not… whatever this was.

“Your Highness and future consort, you may now kiss,” the officiant announced.

For a fleeting moment, Seungkwan glanced at the faces of the guests, all lighting up with joy. He could swear his parents and the kings were making faces—displeased ones. Then, he looked at Hansol.

The stupid prince was blushing, for some reason.

Kissing Hansol… that had perhaps been Seungkwan’s greatest wish ever since puberty, but now, standing just moments away from it… why did it feel so wrong? It didn’t feel like he was about to achieve one of his most longed-for desires—quite the opposite. It felt like he was about to step into an illusion.

Hansol pursed his lips, and Seungkwan did the same. Hansol closed his eyes, and so did Seungkwan and…

There was the faintest touch. Barely even a kiss.

The guests erupted into applause, full of excitement. The Queen Mother dabbed at her eyes with a white handkerchief. And Seungkwan smiled awkwardly.

After the ceremony ended, while everyone mingled—some taking photos of the beautiful garden flowers, others exploring the grounds—Hansol slipped into the mansion.

He was married now, his duty fulfilled. He had no more obligations until his coronation. But… why did the weight on his shoulders remain? Why did he still feel like he couldn’t breathe?

“Congratulations on your marriage, Your Highness,” came a soft, almost lullaby-like voice behind him. Hansol let out a small sigh of relief. Duke Hong was there.

“Joshua,” Hansol greeted with a smile, loosening his tie as he walked toward him. “I didn’t see you among the guests. I thought you hadn’t come.”

“Actually, I arrived a little late,” Joshua chuckled, scratching the back of his neck with a guilty expression. “I’m sorry for that. I couldn’t make it to the ceremony.”

“No, it’s fine,” Hansol shook his head. “How did you know I was in here?”

“Your husband told me—you know, he was at the door.” He tilted his head toward the large wooden door, slightly ajar. Hansol could have sworn he saw someone there, but they disappeared so quickly it could have been just an illusion. “So… how do you feel? Free?” Joshua asked with a gentle smile.

Hansol wanted to lie to his friend and say yes, that now he could finally breathe and move on with his life without social pressure or his grandmother’s expectations weighing on him. But he couldn’t. He kept so many things to himself… maybe sharing something, just this once, wouldn’t hurt.

“No,” he admitted. “I don’t know why, but… I feel like I made a mistake.” Joshua’s eyes widened in surprise. “I feel like I’ve condemned both myself and Seungkwan to live… in some kind of prison.”

“Oh, darling…” murmured the duke softly, clearly saddened. Hansol felt his whole face burn, along with his neck and ears, utterly embarrassed for opening up like that and exposing his feelings. But then, Joshua pulled him into a calm, comforting embrace. “Don’t think that way. Things will turn out fine, alright? Let this sacrifice of your bachelorhood be worth it.” He pulled back from the prince and smiled at him, gently patting his cheek. “Make him love you, and you try to love him, too.”

Hansol lowered his gaze, defeated.

“How? He hates me and I… well, I’m no expert in dealing with people. Especially those who hate me.”

“But you deal with me just fine!” Joshua exclaimed, obviously.

“Yes, but you’re you. And Seungkwan is…”

“Is…?” the older man prompted him to finish, but Hansol just huffed and walked away heavily toward the couch in the sitting room, throwing himself onto it carelessly. “Hansol? Seungkwan is…?”

“With him it’s different,” he admitted. “It’s not easy for me to talk to him, and I always end up saying or doing something stupid. I’ve been a mess because of him since last year. Since that ball, I…” He let out a frustrated groan and ruffled his hair. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me.”

Joshua raised his eyebrows and whistled, clearly intrigued and excited to witness this new side of Hansol.

“Oh? I think I do understand,” he said, sitting down in the armchair across from the prince. “I’ll help you, then.” Hansol looked at him, confused. “To win Seungkwan over.”

Hansol rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, as if saying: Yeah, right.