The yearling peeked out from between the bushes, watching quietly as the men packed up the remnants of their lunches. One of the men lifted his head when the fawn moved slightly and rustled the leaves on the bushes. He looked straight at the patch of greenery where the yearling was hidden and frowned when he saw a flash of colour. The yearling quivered where he stood, fearful that he had been caught but the man turned away, deciding that it must have been a trick of light.

The little deer barely above a year old darted away into the depths of the woods as the men mounted their horses, determined to get away before the hounds could catch a whiff of his scent. Shinwoo had warned him against going close to any sort of human encampment because any man who hunted in the forest would always bring a hound.

The little deer left the forest, heading for the ruins of Castle Adfeilion which stood on a cliff overlooking the seas. He gambolled across the moors on gangly limbs, stopping occasionally to nibble the sweet grass and taste the flowers. The sun was setting out across the sea and the yearling could see the big ball of fire sinking into the ocean. He hurried along the pathway worn into the cliff and stretched his neck out as the sun flared its last rays outwards and painted the sky in splashes of fiery oranges and reds.

“Xiao Lu! Come in now!”

The yearling bleated in answer, still staring in the direction of the horizon. He trotted a little closer to the edge of the pathway and bleated sadly as the last of the sun was dragged beneath the sea and the world faded into darkness.

“Xiao Lu.” The silhouette of a man appeared in the open door of the castle and the yearling ambled towards him.

“I worry about you so much, little one.” Shinwoo petted the little fawn, rubbing his head and scratching his chin as the yearling practically vibrated with delight at the attention. “Come now, young prince. We must have dinner.”

The fawn followed the man into the dining hall, where a meagre amount of food had been laid out. Luhan nibbled at the cabbage leaves that Shinwoo had given him uninterestedly. He was not hungry after having eaten his fill out on the moors in the day.

“Not hungry?” Shinwoo smiled at the fawn who ignored the cabbage and turned his eyes on the soup bowl Shinwoo had laid out for him. He lapped at the bowl with more enthusiasm than he had with the cabbage and Shinwoo had to stifle a smile. Deer loved salt and Luhan was no exception.

Luhan whined sadly as he the last drops of soup from the bowl and looked up at Shinwoo with big doe eyes. “Nope. No more.” Shinwoo had long grown immune to the yearling’s pleading tactics and moved the bowl away.

Luhan waited patiently until Shinwoo had finished his dinner before grabbing at his sleeve with his teeth. “Wait a moment, little one.” Shinwoo laughed as he cleared the plates. He knew exactly what Luhan wanted. It was sort of a ritual they did now after dinner.

Ever since Luhan had been able to talk, he had wanted to know about his heritage. Shinwoo told it to him, every little detail he had been told by his Duke about the fawn. The Duke visited occasionally and Luhan always enjoyed his company and his stories about Luhan's younger brother.

Luhan wished he had a chance to meet this brother of his but deep down, he knew it was not possible. According to Duke Kim, Yifan was always confined within the palace walls, because the king feared that the sorceress would return and the prince would suffer the same fate as the older brother he never knew he had.

“What do you want to read about today, Xiao Lu?” Shinwoo followed Luhan into the makeshift library. Duke Kim had been incredibly generous when Shinwoo mentioned that Luhan loved books, and he had brought many of them that had been gifts from Queen Lan Ling.

Luhan bounded over to one of the books they had left in a stack from the night before. He nudged the book with his nose and looked up at Shinwoo with doleful eyes.

“Again?” Shinwoo faked a sigh and picked up the book. “Once upon a time…”

Luhan’s ears pricked up and he curled up at the feet of Shinwoo’s chair as the familiar words of the story of the white doe washed over him.

Shinwoo read to the prince until the hour of midnight drew near and the light of the moon shone in through the window of the library.

As the hour drew close, Luhan stirred from his nap and screamed out in pain as the transformation began. The minute it took for midnight to pass was always the most dreaded moment. Luhan thrashed around on the floor, pain cutting him to the bone as the structure rearranged itself into a human form. True to Raven’s words, at the hour of midnight, Luhan was neither beast nor man but both as his body fought the pain of the transformation.

Shinwoo could only watch on with pain in his heart as the prince writhed in agony on the floor, his body contorting into human form. At last the minute was over and a very human and very prince lay on the floor, panting from the exertion. Shinwoo rose from his seat to bring the young prince clothes to wear, and after a moment of recovery, the prince was all ready to begin his studies.

The hours from midnight to dawn were Luhan’s favourite because it was the time he learnt. Luhan devoured books from the moment he knew how to read, each word patiently taught to him by Shinwoo. The prince was eager to gain knowledge about everything. It was as if he wished to learn everything there was to study before his day of death on his twenty fifth birthday.

Shinwoo watched fondly as the prince scribbled down a few characters and held it up for him to inspect. He had recently learnt how to write his name in Shinwoo’s language, having mastered how to write it in his own language two years ago when he had turned five. “Very well done, little prince.” Shinwoo smiled as the prince completed another writing exercise that had been given to him.

Luhan beamed in delight and reached for another piece of parchment. He worked hard like that all through the night until the time of his transformation came upon him again. Shinwoo brought him outside just as the sun struggled free from the sea’s clutches and spilled its first ray upon the world. Luhan wriggled free of his guardian's hold as the pain began. He was always afraid he would injure his caretaker from his thrashing if he stayed within his arms and thus always chose to suffer the pain alone. The pain was just as bad as the night before, flaring from his head as his bone structure elongated and his neck stretched out, longer than any human’s neck. He collapsed onto the ground as his limbs stretched out, mouth open in a silent scream, the pain too much for his mind to even process.

Shinwoo had to close his eyes so that he would not be tempted to reach out and hold the hurting prince in his arms. After one incident where Luhan had flailed too much that he had lashed out and kicked Shinwoo so hard that he left a hoof shaped scar on his chest, he had made Shinwoo swear not to touch him or even go close to him during his transformations.

Shinwoo knew the change was over the moment he felt a soft muzzle at his belly playfully. He opened his eyes and smiled down tearfully at the little prince. The prince was so resilient even as a mere child that it hurt Shinwoo to think that such a beautiful being would not live past his twenty fifth birthday. The yearling nuzzled into Shinwoo’s touch and he knelt to press a kiss onto the yearling’s forehead.

Luhan tilted his head cutely, careful to avoid hitting Shinwoo with his first pair of antlers.

“Be careful out there, Xiao Lu.” Shinwoo whispered as the fawn pulled away.

Luhan nodded his head as the sun rose higher into the sky. The call of the forest pulled within him and he turned away, bounding down the pathway toward the Mofa forest where he spent most of his days.

The forest was wonderful and magical, home to many strange creatures that had been tainted by magic. Luhan never had to fear any of them however because he rarely encountered any that were dangerous to him. He got the most of his sleep in the forest under a particular glade of willow trees that always smelled strongly of lilies whenever the wind rustled through their leaves. He knew what lilies smelled like because they were his mother’s favourite flowers and the duke often brought a bouquet to him from his mother.

When he was not sleeping and dreaming of living in the palace across the moors, he was roaming the edges of the forest, where it led out to the open moors. He never dared to venture out too far across because the moors were flat out and you could see for miles on each side. If he could see hunting parties and hounds, it was very likely that they could see him as well. The grass on the moors was sweeter than the forest grass thus his reason for crossing the boundaries of the forest.

Luhan loved the openness of the moors as much as he feared it because he felt almost free whenever he did go out to nibble the sweet grass. Close by the forest, there was a meadow he loved to visit because of the flowers that littered the open space. Purple violets that tasted so sweet on his tongue and little buttercups that he loved to eat whenever he got bored of grass. There were rabbit holes in the meadow as well, and sometimes he would poke his inquisitive little nose down some of them to say hello to the bunnies.

All in all, life hidden behind the forest and in an abandoned castle was not terrible but Luhan wanted more. More people to interact with that is.

It would be a lonely life had he not had Shinwoo by his side every night, holding him whenever the unfairness of his life hit him too hard. As it was, he had to endure every day struggling to avoid people he saw in the forest in case he was shot.

Luhan craved to meet other people. He desperately wanted to have a conversation with someone other than Shinwoo, although the older man was not bad company. Whenever he was alone and away from the abandoned castle, he often thought about his younger brother and what he looked like. Duke Junseo had brought a portrait once during one of his visits, commissioned by the king after he had learnt of Luhan’s longing to learn his brother’s face. Luhan remembered tracing his fingers along the soft curves of his brother’s painted face and wondering who the young boy who stood so close to him was.

He often marveled at how different their dressings were. Living out across the moors and a forest in an abandoned castle meant no need for fancy clothing and from the small amount of clothes the young prince wore for a short period of time each day, he could see a massive difference in the quality of the materials used to make their clothes. Even in the painting, the navy blue of his brother's blazer gleamed and he wondered if it was silk. What does silk feel like? He remembered rubbing his own clothes between his fingers, feeling the coarseness of the wool chafe against his skin and wondering if silk felt the same way as well. The young man who stood close to his brother wore white and the material looked different from the ones his brother wore. Again, Luhan wondered if they were soft because the oil painter had made the material of the jacket look impossibly comfortable to wear.

When he grew older, Duke Junseo had brought him a family portrait that had been recently painted. The portrait had been simple, painted in the regents’ bed chambers. It was the first time the young prince had ever seen his father's face. Looking at the man in the portrait, Luhan felt as if he could forgive his father for the mistake he'd made, the one that had cost Luhan his humanity. The King has a kind face, if tinged with sadness that was difficult to see. Luhan thought, trailing a finger to feel the smoothness of the oil paint beneath his fingers.

“Does my father even care that he caused this to happen to me?!” He had cried out once when the unfairness of his life had seeped deep into his bones and the pain of a particularly difficult transformation had brought out the tears and frustration.

Shinwoo had held him in his arms and told him: “Your father regrets every moment what his actions have caused. He lives with that guilt every day. He loves you deeply, from the moment you were born.”

Seeing his mother’s face for the first time had brought tears to his eyes. Once again, another portrait commissioned of his younger brother revealed the same young boy, this time much leaner, older and prettier. Luhan had asked about him and Duke Junseo told him that the boy was his brother’s closest friend and the son of the royal healer. The young prince listened with great interest and longing in his heart whenever the duke described their shenanigans together. Luhan sighed wistfully when he remembered a particular incident that Duke Junseo had told him, laughter painted all over his face.

The incident happened when the prince had decided that it was a great day for pranks involving freezing cold water in the dead of winter. It was one of those days where Yixing was not actually glued to his side and Yifan had planned a prank on his language teacher, Kyungsoo. He had hidden in a passageway that he knew Kyungsoo would pass through and had a bucket of cold water at the ready. He'd heard footsteps and voices, and assuming that it was Kyungsoo, he had thrown the bucket of ice water all over the unfortunate man. He had peeked out of his hiding place and lo and behold, it was not Kyungsoo he had drenched but his best friend who has chosen to wear all white that day.

The Duke had been present along with the palace’s healer who was Yixing’s father and they both had fought to contain the laughter that threatened to burst out of them at the sight of Yixing, drenched to the bone in icy cold water and his clothes soaked through and transparent.  He had been shivering violently but even then he had the strength to haul Yifan out of his hiding place by the ear very very calmly. The serenity on his face while he watched his best friend howl in pain was what put his father and the Duke over the edge. Yifan was punished later again, not by his parents but by Yixing himself who had been the one to draw his bath water and had filled his tub with water so cold that it had condensation rising off it. Only Yixing saw Yifan's reaction that day, but everyone had heard the screaming and it was safe to say that Yifan had laid off on the cold water pranks for a while since then.

The descriptions of Yifan’s pranks and shenanigans with Yixing often made Luhan wonder what they would have done together had he not been cursed by his father’s actions. Would they have played pranks on the palace staff and studied together? He envied his brother because he had Yixing, a best friend to play and run around with. “My brother is so lucky.” he murmured wistfully once after the Duke had told him about Yixing nursing the prince back to health after he had fallen ill due to his ignoring of Yixing’s warnings not to ride in the rain.

The yearling often thought about what he would do if he met his brother, an unlikely thing but it was nice to dream about. He wanted to take his brother into the forest and show him the willow trees that smelled like lilies, take him to a glade of bushes that bore the sweetest berries Luhan had ever tasted and let him listen to the sound the stream made as it ran through a particular part of the forest. It was a wonderful thing to think about and it kept Luhan from feeling too sorry about himself.

He often dreamed too, about running through a palace with his brother playing catch in human form, hearing Yifan’s laughter and planning pranks on their tutors. It was painful in a way to think about how his life could have turned out if he had not been struck by the curse. He could have had so much more than this lonely life, hidden away across the moors, behind a forest nobody crossed. He could have had a vibrant childhood full of laughter, colour and companionship. These thoughts plagued him often and he pushed them away every time as soon as they came.

Luhan pondered about his family as he ran through the forest, the longing to know them, to live with them, strong in his chest. The fawn was too preoccupied with his thoughts to notice a raven flying close above his head with its beady black eyes riveted on the golden horns of the yearling beneath it.