Thank you for being good sports with the April Fool's Day prank chapters!  Both this chapter and the previous chapter are now full, normal chapters.

For those of you who were wondering what on earth was going on, this year's pranks were basically character cross-overs from my other fics/aus.  I've given a brief rundown of exactly what was where at the end of the chapter :)
 

The prince slept solidly until lunch time.  Yeonhee took the opportunity to catch up on a little work, and then continued on the oil painting she was doing for Yixing to put up in the king’s hospital ward.  After his initial request for just anything, he’d come back to Yeonhee to ask for something fun with personality, and she’d decided on a near-caricature of his family going off on a bear hunt.  Pencil or watercolour probably would have been better mediums for it, but part of the joke was that it looked like it was a much more serious painting than it actually was, and Yeonhee was enjoying herself with it.

Luhan briefed and several other important phone calls made, Min pulled up a chair to watch her.  It didn’t surprise Yeonhee too much when he struck up conversation, because they’d spoken many times before.  Yeonhee wouldn’t necessarily have considered him a friend, but he was somebody she felt comfortable around, which was more than she could have said when she first met him.

Over the course of their conversation, it became apparent that he was extremely close to Jongin.

“His parents have a terrible relationship,” Minseok said as Yeonhee gave up trying to concentrate and put her things away.  “It was one of those things you could tell even as a child, really.  It’s such a shame, too, because my parents are still like this.”  He held up a pair of crossed fingers.  “It kind of all started on the Hanmi side.  My granddad wasn’t best pleased about his eldest daughter marrying a Zenyu man, but my dad was so charming they couldn’t help accepting him.  With my uncle, he was that rebellious little kid who went and knocked up his girlfriend when they were both seventeen and both families were absolutely furious.  My aunt and uncle insisted everything was dandy and got married quick, but Granddad nearly disowned him for dishonouring the family, and with a Zenyu woman at that, and her family accused him of basically being a gold-digger.  They hadn’t even known each other that long, either, and discovered after getting married that they really didn’t like each other all that much, but for some reason they didn’t bother getting divorced until three years ago.  Jongin’s just kind of been fascinated by anybody capable of a healthy, lasting romantic relationship across ethnic barriers because it went down so badly in his own family.”

“That’s sad,” said Yeonhee.  “At least he appears not to be letting it hurt him.”

“Well, he spends more time with us than he does at home,” Min said.  “Speaking of, I have a commission for you.”

Yeonhee surveyed him curiously.  He took a photo out of his wallet, smiling fondly as he looked at it, then handed it to her.

“My wife and I are having our third wedding anniversary in about a month,” he explained, “and I thought it would be nice to get her a portrait of her for it, but I want it to be a surprise.”

Yeonhee looked at the woman in the photo.  She was stunningly beautiful, eyes creased up in a smile as she laughed at something invisible to the camera.

“Sure.”  It felt a little odd that she kept getting art commissions.  Min patted her happily on the back.

“You’re the best, Miss Im, you’re the best.”

She set the photo down.  “Don’t you think you should be calling me Yeonhee?”

He shrugged.  “If that’s what you’d prefer, then of course.”

At lunch, Luhan showed up with the royal family doctor to check that the prince hadn’t come down with something nasty, but after getting a very bleary Yixing to sit up so that he could look at his eyes and mouth and performing a few other tests, the man concluded that a fever was really all it was.

“He’s showing signs of exhaustion,” the doctor added as he packed everything away.  “Once the fever’s gone he should spend another day or so in bed and then take it easy with going back to work.  Luhan cast the prince a sympathetic glance.  Yixing was eyeing the cup of soup Yeonhee had placed on the bedside table as though unsure whether or not he’d be able to stomach it.  He hadn’t actually thrown up, which Yeonhee thought was a good sign, but he certainly didn’t have much of an appetite.

Luhan spoke quietly to Minseok for a few minutes while the doctor checked that the medicine Baekhyun had purloined from Mihae was suitable and Yeonhee hovered, unsure of what to do or where to be, even though it was her own room.  After a couple of moments, Luhan beckoned her over.

“Miss Im,” he said, “if it doesn’t disturb you too much, we think it best at the moment to leave his highness here and to move him tonight.  If I take him back to the palace now, he’s only going to insist on working and in his current condition it’s probably not a good idea.”

“I have no objections,” Yeonhee assured him.

“Wonderful.  I brought some clothes for his highness with me just in case, which I shall get from the car now.  Xiumin will stay with his highness, of course.  If you could just ensure that nobody unauthorised by the palace enters the room until the prince has left, everything should be all right.”

“There are two students who know that the prince is here,” Min said before Luhan could turn to leave.  “My cousin and—”

“Baekhyun won’t say a thing,” said Yeonhee.  “He’s a total loudmouth, but if he knows something is to be kept secret, nobody will get a peep out of him.”

“Good,” said Luhan.  “I take it they’re also aware of your relationship to his highness?”

Yeonhee nodded.

The doctor left with Luhan, who returned about twenty minutes later with a small duffel bag of clothes for the prince before leaving again.  Yixing had gone back to sleep, this time with the duvet shoved down around his waist because his body was so feverishly hot.  He tossed and turned fitfully while Min and Yeonhee ate lunch, but calmed down after half an hour or so and to his side, now much more peaceful.  Min got bored and started wandering around the room while Yeonhee returned to her studies.

“What’s with the potted kenaf?” he asked her eventually.

“Oh, Juan?”

“Juan?”

Yeonhee looked up.  “Baekhyun gave it to me as a consolation-for-your-break-up gift right at the end of last year and our friends thought it was hilarious because the plant looked like weed, so I called it Juan.”

Min laughed.  “Did he realise this when he got the plant for you?”

“I don’t know, but he was definitely not in the least bit sober, so for all I know he thought he was giving me a potted palm or something.”

Still laughing, Min shook his head.  Yeonhee turned back to her philosophy book.

“Why have you got Antiroyo stuff?” he asked a few seconds later, a sharp edge to his voice.  Yeonhee turned, confused, to find him holding her bin in the crook of his arm as he rummaged through it.

“Are you a fox?” she demanded, a bit put out.

He just held up the mug (which was missing its handle) in her direction, raising an eyebrow that said he wanted answers.

Chewing the inside of her cheek, Yeonhee explained that it had just been left outside her room yesterday, and that when she had realised what it was, she had binned the entire starter pack.

Min looked disturbed.  “Just left there?”

Yeonhee made an affirmative noise.

“Does this happen often?”

“No.  Well, maybe, actually.  Somebody’s been leaving me gifts, but they’re actually addressed to me.  I have no idea who it is.”

Gingerly, Min set the cup down on the desk, and then plucked out all the other bits and pieces of the started kit with his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m going to take these away for analysis,” he said.  “Anonymous gifts with your connections is probably not a good thing.”  Finishing up with the mug handle, he went on the hunt for a plastic bag.

“Do you normally look through