As far as Yeonhee was concerned, the aftermath of the ball was just as good as the ball itself.  As promised, Yixing had rustled up a few warm snacks in the kitchen, snorting softly as she almost fell asleep with her head in them, and the queen had left a bouquet of vibrant orange flowers on her bedside table, along with a card that said something along the lines of my dear, you looked truly wonderful tonight, please keep the dress.  She collapsed into the comfortable palace bed and drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.

Yeonhee actually slept so well and so deeply that the queen came knocking round about lunchtime on Sunday to make sure she was okay.

“No, dear, you can continue sleeping if you want,” she said as Yeonhee sat up, squinting, and then almost leapt out of bed, hugely embarrassed.  “I just wanted to check everything was all right after last night.”

Hesitant, Yeonhee sat there with the duvet pooling around her waist, and scratched blearily at the back of her head.

“Yixing said both of you have a function late afternoon,” she mumbled, mussed-up hair falling over her eyes as the queen bustled about, carefully hanging up the dress that Yeonhee had left draped over a chair after stumbling out of it the night before.  “Thank you so much for last night, ma’am.  You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

The queen smiled – really smiled – at her as she folded up her cloak and placed it over her arm.

“My dear,” she said warmly, “as long as you enjoyed yourself, the trouble was worth every second of my time.”

Yeonhee continued to watch her as she flitted around the room.

“Ma’am,” she said after a few moments, “everybody seemed to think the dress was a political statement.”

The queen laughed, her voice like chimes on the wind.  “The dress was many things, my dear.  The two main reasons I chose it were because it’s my favourite out of all of the ones I’ve designed and because I thought you’d be able to pull it off.  And you did.  You looked sublime.  I suppose you could say it was also a political statement, but the third reason I picked that particular dress was to protect you.”

Yeonhee frowned.  Surely a mask and veil could have been found to suit any dress, particularly for somebody with the resources of the queen at her disposal.

“You see,” the queen went on, “even with the veil on top of the mask, some rude and impatient people were always going to try to force you to reveal your identity.  Whether you want it to or not, it will cause a backlash when people find out who you are.  If you were unmasked at the ball and people found out, you don’t want to know what kind of accusations and slurs would have been hurled your way.  The background to that dress – the last time I wore it and the fact that it was mine – were the strongest and quickest way to inform the public that the royal family likes and accepts you.”

Yeonhee sat up straighter.  “You do?” she asked, surprised.

“I’m not happy about some of the things that you’re known for,” the queen admitted, “but it is extremely important to cultivate relationships of all kinds with people that we disagree with and it’s also extremely important to realise that a belief should not define a person.  If they choose to let it define them, then that’s their problem and they won’t be pleasant company.  My son would not waste his time on you if you were of that ilk.”

Yixing insisted on taking Yeonhee back to university on the basis that for a ball, if a man had invited a date, he was supposed to her from her residence to the ball venue and then back again, and he hadn’t been able to Yeonhee from the residence.  It was more or less just an excuse for him to spend more time with her before the state function he and his mother were due to attend that night, since she’d woken up so late.  It was one of the rare occasions he was allowed to drive, and so they both sat in the front of the car.

Unlike last time, Yixing didn’t start going through the radio channels.  They spent the first few minutes in a companionable silence.  Yeonhee was the first to speak, requesting more information on the various people he’d introduced her to at the ball.

“By the way,” he said as they to the campus, “I’m due to do a tour of military inspection this week.  Apparently it includes the troops stationed abroad.”

“Oh,” said Yeonhee, trying to hide her disappointment.  “Will you be gone long?”

He grinned cheekily at her.  “Aw, will you miss me?”

It was very unfair how his teasing could still make her blush so furiously.

“Shut up,” she mumbled.  He reached out and grasped her hand.

“You act like you’re not reciprocated,” he complained.  “I’m going to miss you.”

“Such determination,” Yeonhee muttered, making him laugh.

“I’ll be back at the weekend,” Yixing said as he parked the car.  “And then you can teach me how to paint.”

He insisted on getting out with her and walking her inside.  Yeonhee only didn’t complain because the campus was exceptionally sleepy for a Sunday and he was dressed down enough to pass for a university student who looked vaguely familiar to anybody who walked past him.

“Why are they asking you to do the military inspection?” Yeonhee asked as they entered the building.  “Do you even have military experience?”

“Not much,” admitted Yixing.  “Constitutionally, I’m not allowed to serve as I’m the sole heir to the throne right now.  They let me train to tour with the airforce every so often on the proviso I never see active duty, but I don’t see how that’s any different to training with the land or navy forces on the same proviso.  Sometimes statues are drawn up weirdly.”

His hand found its way into hers as they continued up the stairs.

“So do you have, like, an actual army uniform?” Yeonhee asked curiously, “and not just ceremonial military dress?”

“I have territorial and flight uniforms.”

Yeonhee raised an eyebrow and he glanced sideways at her.

“Don’t drool too much,” he said with amusement.  “I know that men in uniform and guys who can play the guitar are much higher ranked on the iness scale, but I can’t claim the toughness and bravery that comes from deployment and I’m not going to try to.”

“So how much training have you actually done?” Yeonhee was unable to help asking in curiosity.

Yixing hummed lightly.  “I’m qualified to drive and operate most military land vehicles and machines, and to fly certain models of helicopter.  There are some models of plane I can fly as well but I need more training because at the moment I only have the equivalent of a civilian private pilot licence despite having more intensive training and there are restrictions on what and when you can fly with that.”

Gaping at him, Yeonhee almost ground to a halt.

“You’re twenty-three,” she said weakly.  “When did you even learn all this?”

“Part of my education.”  He squeezed her hand gently.  “You can’t have a commander-in-chief who knows nothing about what the men on the ground are doing.  Though I guess it does help that my training effectively took the form of private tutelage rather than me having to take a class, in most cases.  There’s a lot that can be skipped out, too, if you’re never going to fly operationally or serve active duty.”