“Did you have fun last night?”

“… Pardon?”

His eyes wanted to wander in an effort to avoid the severity of his mother’s gaze. The problem is, he somehow had the gist that if he looked away, something would befell him. Something way more terrifying than the Queen’s truth-searching eyes.

“I will spare us both from my attempts at clarifying the question, as it is sort of a sensitive topic to talk about,” for someone whose son had just broke the law, the Queen surely was handling the confrontation really calmly. She leaned over the low table to refill Jeno’s teacup, and not one droplet was wasted, “I am sure we both know what I meant. Don’t we, dear?”

‘Oh god she does know.’ His thought was running as fast as a racehorse placed on a flat terrain, and beads of cold sweat started to form all over his pale face. Just as pale as rancid milk. ‘Did one of the Ports and Piglets patrons noticed me and snitched on me to my mother? Did one of the cheese police recognised me and reported me to my father?’

The silence between them was deafening, causing nothing but simmering anxiety that sent Jeno’s digestive system into overdrive. He felt like throwing up everything he’d just eaten and he knew vomit was the last thing his mother wanted to come out of his mouth. She wanted answers. And if she had to wait until sundown and next morning’s sunrise to get it from him, she will.

Ooh god, she will.

But just as he was about to commit a figurative suicide (because what is life if he can’t eat cheese?) and beg for her forgiveness, the Queen somehow beat him to it,

“I apologise, dear.”

Jeno was dumbstruck. One mental attack after the other and he was left sitting silently on his pile of plush pillows, with his mouth slightly open as he listened to his mother attempting to justify her words, “I shouldn’t have done it like I just did. I’m sorry love,

“it must’ve been hard for you, hmm? So hard that it made you go about it secretly behind my back.”

He couldn’t understand. The careful, almost pitying look that his mother has, the softness of her voice, as if she was afraid that one loud incline of her tone would cause something dire to happen to either of them. He couldn’t understand it at all. Was she being genuinely… sorry that Jeno had to go all hush-hush on his journey to discover cheese? Or was this all a ruse to get a concrete confession from the suspect? Maybe they are not alone in this solar. Maybe, there are tens of the King’s spy hiding in between all the wooden cupboards and jewelry boxes, just waiting to hear him say the word before they burst forth and detain him.

“I apologise, dear, I really do. Oh, you don’t know how often I pray to the heavens that you will not grow to care for things that will make your life as our eldest son to be harder than what it already is,” his mother sighed as she reached out for his hand, still holding the small silver fork with a piece of egg tart stuck at the end of it, “I understand what you must be feeling, what must be going through your mind, but you have to remember your duty as the eldest son, dear. Your duty as the heir to the throne.” She grasped his hand, as if she was hoping that a squeeze would cause her son to speak up about this sensitive topic, and it did work, sort of. Words began to choke out of Jeno’s dried up mouth and after several embarrassing tries, he managed to string up a sentence coherent enough to be understood by others,

“I… I also apologise for… for what I’ve done, mother. And for bringing such worry to your mind. I promise I… will stop doing it as soon as possible… tomorrow! I promise I’ll stop tomorrow,-.”

“Don’t promise me things you cannot keep my dear.” She cut him short with words that stabbed him through his heart and soul, as easily as those cheese cutters in his uncle’s castle could cut open a wheel of nicely aged hard cheese.

“What do you want me to do then mother?” without intending to do so, Jeno’s words came out in a way that, in his opinion, was too pointed. Something he knew he shouldn’t have done. Not to a Queen, and especially not to his own mother. But what could the boy do? His mother saw through his illegal actions and proceeded to mercilessly corner him for a little duty-and-morality chit-chat. Sharp words that were riddled with anxiety was the least of his worry.

But it didn’t seem as though the Queen was disturbed by his lapse in manner. She only gave him an understanding smile and trudged along with her advice, “oh… I know you won’t ever listen to me if I told you to stop doing it immediately, but as I said. Remember your place. Your duty. Know that you won’t be able to do it forever. So part with it slowly dear, little by little. Give yourself time to grieve, to let go, yes? The last thing I wish to see is you having a broken heart over the separation.”

His mother’s counsel entered his right ear, got translated in his mind as ‘do things even more carefully, little by little. Don’t be greedy and space out your nightly outings to reduce suspicion’, finally escaping through his left ear without him taking in any of the word's’ true meaning. But where would the world be if children never lies? It would’ve probably stopped spinning long ago. And so Jeno bowed his head (to mask his wandering eyes), and delivered the most determined lie in his personal history of lies. Because the faster he appeased her wishes, the faster he could escape this cursed breakfast. And the faster he could consult his club members for a better plan to mask their cheese escapades,

“thankyou mother for your wise words. I will surely implement it in the process. But uh,- you haven’t… you haven’t told father, have you?”

She let out a peculiar, un-Queenly sound after she heard his words of worry. A snort, for lack of better word. Some wet chortle stuck in the middle of disbelieve and ill-humor, “of course not, silly.” She then leaned in, even further than what she already has going on, and gave Jeno’s cheek a soft pinch. A gesture that, if he remembered correctly, was last done by her when he was nothing but a tiny kid of seven, “if you don’t want me to tell him, I will never tell him. Let it be a secret between you and me.”

“But mother… isn’t that an act of treason?”

Her fingers shifted then, slowly, from a pinch into warm, soft hands cupping his cheeks in such loving way that only a mother could, “every other people might only ever see me as the Queen. But know that I am always a mother first, for you, and for my little Jaemin. And remember dear, I will always love you. Always. No matter who you love.”

At first, Jeno was awashed in gladness after knowing that his mother had came forth and essentially gave her blessings for him to continue on his cheese-related endeavours. But in the middle of his content smile, something in his brain clicked which caused everything to come to a halt. Just as sudden and shocking as the sound of a harp’s wire snapping in half in the middle of a song. ‘Wait a second. Who?’ He thought, ‘who whom?!’ At first it was only a silent puzzlement, but soon he went on to verbalise it because he needed to clarify with his mother if he’d heard her words correctly the first time around, “… who?”

“You, my dear, I’ll always love you.”

“No… no I mean did you say ‘no matter who you love?’”

“Ooh yes, I know it’s hard, dear, but you have to remember that as the heir to the throne, you have the duty to continue the royal bloodline. So I do expect you to marry a woman. But that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have some… hm, how should I word this nicely… fun? Adventure? Aah, escapades, before me and your father find you a good political match,” his mother only met his confusion with an absent minded wave of her hand. She might’ve thought that they were both sitting on the same page of the book, but Jeno had just suddenly found himself pushed through the edge of said book and left stranded at the cold, hard floor. “Wasn’t it the scribe boy that I saw shared your bed last night? Oh, I can’t believe how quick my son has grown… it felt like yesterday that you were just a wee babe who cried everytime I stopped singing,-”

‘Oh, it’s not about cheese… she hasn’t found out.’ And even with that realisation, Jeno still sat there dumbfounded, practically ignoring the chatterings of his mother because he was unable to process the incoming information as quickly as the mysteries unfolded. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to let out a big sigh and probably give his mother one bear of a hug that no prince should ever indulge in. But there was a silent voice whispering to him at the back of his mind that was fully commanding all of his attention.

‘You could open your mouth and correct this misunderstanding, and risk jeopardising everything in the process. Or, you could shut up, and live a life of fabricated lie.’

Living a life with lies or living a life without cheese.

Hmmm. Wonder which option Jeno will choose.

_ _ _ _ _

“Took you long enough teach!” Jisung waved at Jeno when he spotted him up on of the aviary’s high platforms after he’d just sent away a homing pigeon with a small scroll tied around its leg. Although, at that moment, the boy telling them to keep their voices down was not Jeno. Right then, technically he was nothing more but a brown haired aviary assistant with soot smeared all over his nose.

After the close call with the Queen earlier that morning, Jeno decided that they would have to increase the safety nettings of their first ever group outing and decided to pick another meeting point. Somewhere much more discreet than their usual escape route from the castle. The aviary would mean that they’d have to take a longer detour through the forest to reach the Inner City, but everyone visits the aviary. So it was easy for them to mix up with the chaos of floating feathers, bird , and cargos being carted in by messengers and find an opening to escape.

“I had to send a heads up to our new recruit, tell him we’re coming,” he explained while dusting the specks of sawdust off his tattered pants. Jeno then pointed at both of his friends and asked them to show him if they’d brought all of the items he requested them to bring earlier.

“Why’d we need all this anyway?” Minhyung huffed, half annoyed that he had to risk dirtying his precious canvas bag with spilled ink. Because no matter how hard and how careful he capped his bottles, he never knew what shenanigans Jisung might pull that would cause a possible leakage.

“I need you to copy something,” signalling the two of them to begin moving with a nod of his head, Jeno led their way towards the back entryway of the wooded area. Knowing full well that the stillness of the forest will dampen the next thing he was going to say, “it’s a recipe book. I found one. Still intack. With so many types in it, I can’t even begin to comprehend how,-”

“A RECIPE BOOK?!” Their loud yell completely threw Jeno’s previous attempt at being discreet out of the window. And both Minhyung and Jisung was stopped right on their tracks as they let out their shock and disbelieve, well, Jisung was technically jumping up and down in excitement, but same difference.

“Why didn’t you tell us earlier?! I would’ve bring a better scroll!” Minhyung babbled while opening up his bag to do one last recheck to see if he really did indeed brought everything he needed to do a good job at copying a ‘cheese recipe book! Oh my lords finally, all my training as a scribe will amount to this, father would’ve been so proud.’

“Yes! Why didn’t you tell us?! Is the owner a cheesemaker? A hiding cheesemaker?! I should’ve brought a more advanced copy of the theory book!”

Jeno had to put a heavy hand on Jisung’s shoulder to stop him from jumping around like an excited bunny, and a heavy hand on Minhyung’s shoulder to stop him from upturning his bag and scattering its content on the forest bed.

“As I said, I’ll tell everything on our way there. So please, if you want to know more about our new recruit, listen.” Sometimes, even if he didn’t want to, he had to fully embrace his royal pedigree if he wanted to keep two of his sheltered friends in check. Because it always work, much to his annoyance. Even in a state where his silver hair was dyed beyond recognition and matted to his forehead like the the fur of a sewer rat, nobody could deny that the look he has in his eyes still resembled those of his father, the King.

“Oh, by the way, Minhyung?”

“What.” From his tone, it was clear that Minhyung knew that Jeno was going to say something annoying. And he wasn’t wrong. Minhyung and his gut instinct. When has it ever been wrong.

“Don’t be alarmed if the Queen ever asks you to join her for an afternoon tea. She kind of thinks that we’re embroiled in some sort of romantic affair.”

There was a few seconds of silence, when Minhyung was trying to make sense of Jeno’s words, only filled with the sound of some boots trudging on leaf-covered ground. Two boots, to be exact. And they weren’t just trudging, they were running. Knowing what Minhyung’s reaction would be to the summary of his meeting with his mother, Jeno grabbed Jisung by the arm and they both ran ahead of the just-getting-back-to-the-present boy. Leaving him behind with only the sound of their laughter echoing against the ancient tree trunks of the castle’s forest.

“Romantic… affair…?! What in all hells are you talking about?! Jeno! Don’t run away from me you crazy,-”

Minhyung’s words were cut by him breaking off into a run to chase after treacherous friends. But if you are wondering, the word he was going to say was ‘little s’. Don’t run away from me you crazy little s.

_ _ _ _ _

Standing upon Renjun’s house under the dying light of day, Jeno realised that he indeed was living inside a hole in a wall. Last night he kept referring it as such only as a figure of speech. But now that he could see everything clearly, it indeed was a hole. A hole on a wall.

Jeno didn’t notice it under all the chaos and panic that wrapped around his last visit, but the entrance of his little cheesemaker’s house was literally a circle carved into the surface of the brick wall.

“Well this is a piece of junk,” Minhyung blurted out before Jeno could stop him from doing so. The boney corner of Jeno’s elbow hitting the ribs of his friend right when Minhyung finished his sentence, causing it to be capped with a sharp ‘ow!’ and Jisung’s muffled snicker trailing soon after.

He’d knocked on the wooden door that covered the circular entryway of the house approximately three separate times now, but nobody seemed to be there to open it. Jeno looked at the small boarded up window right beside the door where a poorly made sign saying ‘Huang’s laundry. Sorry we are closed! Come again tomorrow’ was hung on a rusty nail and he contemplated that maybe he should’ve sent the notification, that he was going to visit with a few friends, earlier during the day.

‘Maybe they really are not home,’ he thought as he found himself worrying on his lower lip, ‘goodness. Does this mean all that walking was for nothing?’ The three of them have travelled this far and Jeno did not want the day to end with him having to nurse two upset children (three including himself, of course) whose hearts were broken with overwhelming disappointment.

“Where is he?” Jisung asked while trying to peek past Jeno’s shoulder. And he knew, if he told Jisung the truth, that he didn’t know where his new recruit was, then it would lead to nothing else but chaos. Or non-stop whining. Or snide, snarky remarks.

“Just wait for a little bit. I’m sure he’ll be here soon.” In the end, Jeno decided that instead of indulging in a full fledge lie, he’d rather reply to Jisung’s question with a diplomatic answer. Because knowing Jisung, the repercussion of maybe having to explain himself at later times (and enduring numerous of his embittered jests) would be much more tedious than if he were to just softly dodge the question and pretend that nothing wrong ever happened. He could see Jisung was about to rebuke his explanation when the boy took one long inhale of a breath, but Jeno quickly silenced him telling him to read up on some cheesemaking facts so he could answer any and all questions that might be asked by their potential cheesemaker, and with one wave of his hand, all was silenced.

But after they’ve waited for almost thirty minutes, it seemed to Jeno that he couldn’t keep stretching the inevitable. Also, Jisung has started to become agitated after he’d finished reading one of the book he brought from front to back, and an agitated, bored Jisung is not a Jisung you want to be around for anything longer than a few minutes at a time.

When the kid had started prodding Minhyung’s arm with a piece of rotten plank of wood, Jeno knew it was a sign for him to really get going.

He slowly stood from the stone steps with heavy heart, back facing the entrance of the alleyway, and readied himself to break the news to his friends. “Boys, I think we have to call it a day,” after letting out two awkward coughs, he finally was able to push those words off his mouth. The look on Minhyung and Jisung’s face was what he was expecting and it made his heart ache. Wide eyed shock and mouth opened as if they were about to let out a cautionary shout… wait.

Wide eyed shock? Cautionary shout? Fingers slowly raising up to point at a spot somewhere slightly to the right of his shoulders?

And just then he heard it. Maybe it was because his mind was so preoccupied by having to break such bad news to his friends that Jeno was not able to isolate the sound, of a wheelbarrow barreling down the slight decline of the street towards him, from all the chaos that was happening on the Inner City’s main street.

“MOVE MOVE MOVEMOVEMOVE!” The sound of a poorly padded wooden wheel rolling on the uneven surface of the cobbled road was accompanied by the now familiar panicked yell of a certain mouse of his. Minhyung and Jisung heed the warnings and swiftly jumped to the other side of the cramped entryway. Maybe it was because they could see the threat coming that they were able to respond as quick as they did. As for Jeno? The disadvantages that came from him not having any sight or prior awareness in regards of the incoming threat, caused his brain to only ordered his limbs to move when it was all but too late.

The front of the wheelbarrow struck him right at the back of his legs before he could even put one feet in front of the other, and suddenly gravity ceased to exist. He was expecting pain to come soon after his back hit the bottom of the wheelbarrow, but thankfully, a pile of what he guessed were sheepskin flasks caught his fall and in the end he felt nothing but… a sense of strange comfort lying there at the small basket. Feet dangling awkwardly over the mouth of the cart.

When he’d gathered enough bearings and his eyes have stopped swimming against the inside of his lids, Jeno opened them and was met with the expanse of Lumina’s lightly clouded sky, painted pink and orange by the dusk. And also, at the upper corner of his sight, a very terrified looking Renjun.

“Hello again.”

_

AN: ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º)