“He will be fine. He’s just febrile. I expect the fever will run its course in a couple of hours and he will feel better then,” Zhang Cheng said in a soft voice as his son laid an iced linen across the prince’s forehead.

“Do you have any idea what could have caused it?” Yi Chen asked, worry creasing his brow.

The physician glanced at his son, not finding it in himself to break it to the King that his second-born was under a spell.

“Dark magic at work,” Yixing spoke without looking up. He poured hot water into a sieve of chrysanthemums set over a bowl as he said his next words. “Duke Junseo said his pupils dilated and filled his irises. That is a major sign of dark magic. I expect that the sudden urge to shoot the stag is a result of the magic as well.”

Yi Chen looked alarmed and his queen grabbed his arm in fear. “Does it mean that she has found him?” the king asked, voice trembling.

Zhang Cheng stepped in to calm his king’s fears. “No. It could be just the curse talking. What happened today made it clear  that if Luhan is to die by an arrow shot by his family’s blood, someone of his kin, it would be Yifan’s arrow.”

"So we can prevent this from happening.” The joy in the king’s voice was evident. “If Yifan is not permitted to go into the forest, he would never be able to shoot that arrow!”

Zhang Cheng shook his head. “A curse is never so simple.”

“And Yifan is stubborn. I know him well. If he is forbidden from doing something, he would put it into his mind to accomplish it." Yixing’s voice was quiet as he brushed Yifan’s damp hair away from his eyes, his actions conveying care that he wished the prince could see. "It would be best to permit him to go on hunts but explicitly tell him that he is not to hunt hart.”

“That would not make any difference if the curse affects him as well,” Joonmyun cut in from where he was standing at the side, merely voicing out his thoughts in hopes that they would be helpful.

Yixing glared at him, pulling his hand away from Yifan’s brow. “What do you suggest then? Lock him up in the palace when he is already miserable that he isn't allowed to go out?”

Joonmyun recoiled, eyes wide and stunned at the venom in Yixing's tone.

“Sitting around here arguing will give us no answers.” Zhang Cheng spoke calmly, sending a sharp glance in his son’s direction. “We are doing everything we can to find a cure and right now, the prince will go nowhere except for his bed until he is better.”

Yixing glared down at the sheets for being scolded, albeit subtly, and picked up Yifan's hand from where it lay limply on the bed, willing Yifan to get better.

 

-

 

As the regents left the room, Zhang Cheng turned to his son who was carefully clearing up the bowls and avoiding his father’s eyes. “What was that about Yixing? You know better than to speak to Joonmyun in that manner. He may be your friend, but he is also a lord.”

Yixing ducked his head, flushing at the reminder. “I didn't mean to. I was just upset. I'll apologize to him later.”

The healer looked at his son with a hint of exasperation. “You know better, Yixing. If your mother hears about this…”

Yixing sat up, eyes wide as alarm bells rang in his head. “You wouldn't, Father! She would have my head!”

Zhang Cheng looked amused at the panic in his son’s voice. “I won't tell her if you go and apologize to Joonmyun now.”

Yixing pouted at his father’s command before looking down at the prince. “But Yifan…”

“Will be fine. I will stay here and watch over your beloved.” The healer watched in delight at the red flush that crawled over his son's face at the word.

“He is not my beloved, Father!” Yixing muttered indignantly.

“Whatever you say, son. Whatever you say.” Zhang Cheng sang as he picked up the linen lying over the prince’s forehead and laid another in its place. “Now go and don't come back until you have apologized.”

 

 

Yixing found Joonmyun in his chambers, reading as per usual. His heart palpitated hard in his chest when he remembered the hurt expression painted on his friend’s face when he spat such words to him. Swallowing his pride, he tapped lightly on the door and waited for the other to allow him entrance.

“Come in.” The lord looked up from his book and his brows creased when he saw that it was Yixing. His eyes narrowed and he dropped his eyes back to his book.

“Your Grace,” Yixing murmured, moving to stand in front of his friend.

“What do you want?” The cold sentence nearly made Yixing spin around and walk right out but he stayed, mainly because he hated the thought of Joonmyun being mad at him. Aside from Yifan, Joonmyun was his closest friend.

"Joon... I'm sorry…” He knelt before Joonmyun's chair, chewing his lip nervously. “I didn't mean to lash out at you. I was just scared, and you know how I am when Yifan gets upset.”

Joonmyun finally looked up from his book and glanced at Yixing. “You do know that you don't just have Yifan as a friend right? Unless I have been wrong all these years and I'm not a friend to you?”

Yixing rose to embrace his friend but Joonmyun remained stiff in his chair. “No! I mean, you are my friend. It's just Yifan…” His voice faded out and he looked guilty. “I'm sorry, Joon. I never realized. Forgive me.” He lowered his head into the crook of Joonmyun's neck and kissed it gently.

Joonmyun shifted and slowly he wrapped his arms around Yixing's waist. “I forgive you for being an idiot whenever Yifan’s around. But please don't do that again. I love Yifan just as much as you do, and I would do anything to protect him. When are you planning to tell him by the way?”

Yixing pulled away from Joonmyun's arms looking shy. “Tell him what?”

Joonmyun narrowed his eyes at his friend’s denial. “You know what.”

Yixing blinked and cocked his head to the side slowly. “Nope. In fact I think I shall approach Kyungsoo and…”

Joonmyun groaned and poked Yixing in his side. “Let that go, will you?”

Yixing yelped and danced away from his fingers. “Do that again and I'll tell him.” The advisor threatened when Joonmyun's fingers came within range again.

Joonmyun stilled. “You wouldn't!”

“See if I won't!” Yixing crowed as he ran out of the room, Joonmyun hot on his heels.

 

-

 

Luhan limped out of the forest just as the sun sank beneath the sea. He stumbled up the little pathway, his mind reeling from the day’s events. He had seen him! His brother and his brother’s  best friend. But his brother seemed to not know him at all. Luhan whimpered when the pain in his hind leg reminded him violently of that fact. He lifted a foreleg and pawed gently at the door.

Shinwoo’s mouth dropped open when he saw the state of the prince. “What happened to you?!” He gasped, fear racing through him as he rushed to the deer. Luhan whined and tried to head Shinwoo aside.

“None of that now. Let me see your leg.” Shinwoo waved a finger warningly at the stag and moved to Luhan’s rump. He carefully removed the blood-soaked handkerchief and examined the wound. The bleeding had stopped and the wound, luckily, was shallow and needed no stitches.

Shinwoo led the prince over to the dinner table and while Luhan ate, he fetched warm water and cloths to clean the wound to prevent infection. The prince jerked away, crying out in pain when the first drops of warm salted water were dabbed onto the wound.

“Be still, Luhan!” Shinwoo cried out in frustration when the stag skittered his hindquarters out of reach when he tried to clean the wound with the warm cloth.

Luhan glared at him reproachfully when the caretaker forcefully pushed his hindquarters down onto the floor. The stag struggled but the man held on.

“Do not kick me in the face right now Xiao Lu. It will hurt worse if it gets infected.”

Luhan grumbled but he stilled, whimpering whenever Shinwoo patted the cloth down his wound, the salted water stinging him as it dripped into the cut.

When he was satisfied, Shinwoo wrapped gauze around the leg and rose to clean off the cloths. He took the fabric that had been bound around the Prince's leg when he had come into the castle with him. Upon washing the blood from it, he could clearly see the letters that had been monogrammed onto the fabric. ‘ZYX’ was clearly embroidered in silver at the edge of the handkerchief. The caretaker froze as he thumbed at the design. He knew those initials; they belonged to the healer’s son. That meant that Luhan had recently been in contact with them.

A pitter pattering on the cold stone floor indicated that the prince had entered the kitchen. He turned slowly to face the stag who was trying to nuzzle his way into Shinwoo’s arms. “We are going to have a talk tonight, Xiao Lu.”

Luhan snorted and snagged the freshly washed handkerchief from the caretaker’s hands. He turned around and hurried off, still limping slightly.

Shinwoo had a pretty good idea where he was taking the handkerchief. Luhan had amassed a collection of things that had everything to do with his family. It had started when Duke Junseo brought him a drawing that Yifan had done and thrown away. Luhan had kept the drawing in pristine condition throughout the years and as the Duke brought him more, he kept them in a box that had been gifted by his father when he had been told by his friend of his son’s unusual hobby. Loose cuff buttons, a white handkerchief embroidered with his brother’s initials, a satin ribbon his mother had given up for him and a wax stamped with the family crest were only some of the things that were carefully tucked away inside the box. Duke Junseo had somehow managed to convince Yixing to give up a composition he had messed up and Luhan had stowed it carefully away as well.

 

Luhan carefully nosed at the latch, wary of cutting his muzzle.

Shinwoo came up behind him just as he had opened the lid of the chest up. The caretaker watched with barely suppressed amusement as the prince laid the handkerchief into the chest as tenderly as if it was his child.

Luhan turned to his caretaker after he had successfully snapped the latch back into place.

Shinwoo petted his nose gently and moved aside. “We need to talk.”

 

-

 

As soon as midnight had passed and the prince lay panting and sweating on the ground, Shinwoo laid a towel over the prince and crouched down to look at his leg. The gauze bandage had split open during the transformation and the caretaker feared that the wound may have reopened.

“Ow!” Luhan yelped when a warm cloth dampened with salt water was laid over his injury. He squirmed and reached out a hand to remove it.

Shinwoo slapped it away. “Leave it,” he commanded and the prince wilted, whimpering softly at the sting.

“Why were you anywhere near a hunt today?” Shinwoo asked as he set the prince’s clothes down beside him.

Luhan flushed and kept his eyes down on the hardwood on the library.

“Luhan,” Shinwoo said warningly.

“I only passed by them!” The prince squeaked as he pulled his shirt over his head. “The hounds scented me, it wasn't my fault!” He faltered when Shinwoo gave him a sharp glance. The caretaker removed the warm cloth as it grew cool and wrapped more gauze over the wound.

“You are incredibly lucky that it was your father's hunting party you ran into.” Shinwoo sighed as he sat heavily into the armchair by the cold fireplace.

“How…” Luhan whispered, astounded by how the caretaker knew without him telling.

“The initials on that handkerchief are of the healer’s son.”

Luhan looked up at his caretaker. “I saw him.”

Shinwoo turned to look at him with tired eyes.

“My brother. I saw him. He was the one who shot that arrow.”

Shinwoo’s mouth dropped open in horror.

Luhan looked at him sadly. "Was he never told about me?” he asked, more to himself than to the caretaker.

“I don't… Believe so.”

Sadness fell over Luhan's beautiful eyes like a veil and he turned away. “Are they ashamed of me?”

The prince looked so miserable asking this that Shinwoo’s heart quavered, feeling sorry for him. “Oh, Xiao Lu. Your parents love you but they must maintain peace. If the people knew what truly happened to you, there would be an uprising and attention would be drawn towards your brother which would in turn put him in danger.” The caretaker left his chair in favour of cradling the prince to his chest tenderly.

Distantly, as he held Luhan in his arms, Shinwoo heard a soft caw and his blood ran cold.

 

-

 

Yixing smoothed down Yifan’s unruly fringe and let his hand linger just a moment longer. It was rare for him to see Yifan look so peaceful and even rarer to see him vulnerable. The advisor’s fists clenched involuntarily at the thought of Raven even coming near his prince.

Leaning over the bed, he was sorely tempted to press a kiss onto Yifan’s lips. “You're such an idiot. What use could Raven possibly have for an idiot? Maybe she wants you for your looks,” he told the sleeping prince, pressing his fingertips to the prince’s temples gently.

“You scared me there, in the forest. I thought you were gone. I should've known better though." Yixing shook his head. "It takes more than just a spell to take you down, you brave stupid prince. Why do I even like you? Scratch that, why does my traitorous heart beat so much faster whenever you're around? It is not fair.”

The advisor pouted and trailed a finger along Yifan’s jaw. “It is not fair that you will never feel the same,” he murmured softly, almost to himself. He picked up an iced linen from the bowl next to him and laid it over his best friend’s forehead.

Yifan shivered slightly when the cold cloth touched his skin but he did not wake.

Yixing pulled back and let his hand trail down to touch Yifan’s hand. He let their fingers entwine together, like they had so often done when they were children.

A long while later Yixing shifted from his post beside the prince’s bed when he heard the prince groan. “Your Highness,” he whispered and Yifan stirred awake.

“What time is it?” Yifan croaked, voice hoarse from being asleep all day.

“Nearing midnight,” Yixing answered as he helped the prince sit up, propping him up with a few more pillows. He lifted the hot water kettle from beside him and poured it over a sieve of chrysanthemums. Yifan had managed to be awakened earlier that night to drink the first bowl Yixing had made and it was helping, his colour was returning.

“Why are you still awake? Oh god my head is throbbing so badly.” Yifan flopped into his pillows and groaned soundly.

“Someone has to take care of you.” Yixing murmured as he brushed the sweaty blonde hair off Yifan’s forehead and held the bowl up to his lips. “Drink it while it's hot, it's more effective that way.”

Yifan raised the bowl to his lips just as the clock struck twelve. “Aargh!” A sharp, unforgiving pain exploded through his head and he cried out, dropping the bowl in favour of clutching his head in pain.

The yellow liquid spilled across the white comforter and onto Yixing’s lap but he hardly cared, leaping up to his feet in worry. “What’s wrong?” He reached out to pull Yifan close to him.

The prince whimpered and buried his face into his best friend’s chest. “My head. It feels… It feels like it's on fire!”

Yixing could feel Yifan’s skin start to heat up and then, he heard something that made chills run up his spine.

 

A raven’s caw.

 

"Shall I fetch my father?” Yixing asked, fighting to keep the fear from his voice.

Yifan moaned in pain and his grip tightened even more to keep the younger close to him. “Don't go. You make me feel better.”

Yixing laughed outright, the raven still on the back of his mind even as he held his best friend close.

“Don't laugh at me,” the prince grumbled, his fingers grasping the fabric of Yixing’s clothes, “I'm serious. My headache is fading as we speak,” Yifan mumbled into Yixing's shoulder, his hot breath tickling the younger’s neck.

“You're imagining things,” Yixing whispered, struggling not to squirm from the puffs of hot air caressing his neck as he the prince’s hair tenderly.

Yifan nuzzled into Yixing’s neck, inhaling the smell of water lilies and mint that always seemed to cling to the advisor.

“Better?” Yixing asked, rubbing a hand along Yifan’s spine. The prince exhaled and nodded, slowly pulling away from their embrace. “Go back to sleep. You will feel better in the morning.” The advisor brushed his knuckles gently against Yifan’s cheek and the prince sighed, eyes fluttering shut again.

“You smell good.”

Yixing jumped when the prince spoke softly. “And you're weird for saying that.” The advisor smiled when Yifan opened one eye to glare at him.

“Why are you always so mean to me?” The prince grumbled, voice low as he stretched a hand out to poke at Yixing’s dimple.

Yixing caught his hand before it could touch him and kept holding it. “I'm not mean and you need to rest, Your Highness.”

Yifan lifted his head to gaze up at Yixing, his amber eyes meeting his best friend’s and the advisor caught his breath. The prince had always been handsome, attracting everyone's attention whenever he walked into the room but now, just lying there with the moonlight streaming over him, Yixing thought he had never looked more beautiful.

He gulped, mouth suddenly dry. “Go…Go back to sleep,” he stuttered, laying Yifan’s hand back onto the bed.

“You won't leave, will you?” The prince asked, voice tiny and so vulnerable that it clutched at the advisor’s heart.

“Go to sleep, Your Highness. I'll be here when you wake up.”

Yifan’s body relaxed and his eyelids slowly closed as fatigue took over his body once more, a soft smile lingering on his lips as he fell back to sleep.