“Hyung,” Yixing grabbed his brother’s arm as they were leaving the dinner table. Junmyeon clearly still had not forgiven him for the jibe he had made but he had to swallow his pride if he wished for security.

 

Junmyeon shook him off, levelling him with an angry gaze and Yixing felt tears ball up in his throat.

 

He swallowed and reached for him again feebly.

 

“Hyung, I- I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Junmyeon’s gaze did not soften, even as Yixing limped towards him.

 

Yixing bit down an exclamation of pain when he took a step and his blistered feet protested. He managed to reach his brother before he could leave, expression pleading.

 

“Hyung, please-,” he whimpered in pain when Junmyeon nudged him away, lips pressed together in a tight line.

 

Baekhyun was looking between the both of them, his lower lip trembling.

 

“Hyung?” he called softly and Junmyeon turned to him, trying to soften his tone before he frightened him further.

 

“We’re fine, Hyunnie.”

 

His voice was strained and it was evident enough that Baekhyun slid out of his seat, wobbling over to clutch at his knees.

 

“Don’t be mad, hyung,” he mumbled, looking up at Junmyeon with big teary eyes. Yixing felt his heart stutter when his brother looked over to him.

 

“I’m sure Xing Xing hyung didn’t mean it,” he said, tugging lightly on Junmyeon’s trousers.

 

Junmyeon bent, scooping him up without a word.

 

He glanced at Yixing, his brows still knitted.

 

“You’re a big boy,” he said curtly, settling Baekhyun on his hip and Yixing could feel his heart sink.

 

“Sleep on your own.”

 

He opened his mouth to argue but Junmyeon was already gone, taking Baekhyun with him.

 

Grimacing with every step, he dragged himself up to his room, his feet screaming with every step.

 

Shooing the servants from his bathroom, he set his feet into a bath of warm water, the tears trickling from the corners of his eyes as the water stung the open wounds.

 

He could not dance anymore.

 

The very thought of having to put his shoes on and dance on Kai’s arm like a puppet frightened him and he buried his face into his hands, sobbing in breathless terror.

 

He crawled into bed with fear gripping his heart in a vice, pulling the covers over his head in the hopes that Kai would not come, that he would have mercy.

 

But the stones creaked and grumbled and Yixing’s stomach turned.

 

He could feel every step that the dark prince took towards his bed, the cold fingers that curled around his covers and yanked them off.

 

Before he could speak, fingers curled around the back of his head, tugging him up into a kiss that stole his breath away.

 

“Good evening,” Kai’s smile was slow and sultry. He was practically glowing with health and Yixing paled in comparison.

 

The covers were pushed aside, exposing the injured feet and Kai did not let him protest before he was running his fingers over his skin lightly, the blisters fading away.

 

The pain was gone too but Yixing drew up his legs, folding his knees to his chest.

 

The prince might have taken away the pain but the exhaustion was bone deep.

 

He was running on fumes and he was not sure how much longer he could do this.

 

“Come now, love or we shall be late.”

 

-

 

“Where is my brother?” Junmyeon asked curtly as the servants cleared away the plates and bowls. It was the end of breakfast and there was still no sign of Yixing.

 

The servant closest to him picked up his bowl and bowed.

 

“His Highness said that he was unwell and would not be attending breakfast today, sir,” she answered stiffly and Junmyeon thanked her with a nod, waving her away.

 

He finished his breakfast quietly and put Baekhyun down for his nap time before climbing the narrow stairs up to Yixing’s bedchambers.

 

It was a petty thing, but Junmyeon was still upset at his brother. They were supposed to stick together and take care of one another but Yixing was keeping secrets.

 

And if there was one thing that Junmyeon absolutely despised, it was not knowing things.

 

His boots clicked on the stone steps as he climbed, wondering if Yixing’s sudden bout of illness was due to him sneaking out.

 

The servants had reported to him that his brother’s shoes were still wearing out, thrown haphazardly beneath the bed as if he wished to hide them.

 

The insides of the shoes were caked with blood and even Yifan was horrified when he had shown them to him.

 

He had half a mind to stop the cobbler from bringing more shoes, if it would keep Yixing indoors at night.

 

The thought was not even fully formed in his mind when he arrived at the doors of Yixing’s bedchambers and there Yifan stood, clutching a wooden box in hand.

 

“Yifan!”

 

The cobbler turned and bowed quickly, his face paling a little.

 

“Your Highness,” he intoned and Junmyeon waved his hand dismissively.

 

“Did Yixing summon you?” He asked stiffly and Yifan bowed his head, holding out the box.

 

“I was to deliver more shoes but a servant said he was too unwell to meet me in the garden,” he explained and Junmyeon frowned.

 

“Well,” he pushed open the door lightly, leading the way in, “perhaps you should stop-.”

 

The rest of his sentence was cut off when he saw the state of his brother, dance shoes cast off openly on the floor.

 

“Yixing, Yixing!”

 

Junmyeon scrambled to the bed in alarm. His brother was curled up beneath the covers, his face deathly pale, his lips almost completely colourless.

 

“Hyung.” The whimper was faint and weak, Yixing’s eyes flicking to him. His skin was cold and clammy to the touch and as Junmyeon yanked back the covers, he grabbed for them feebly, murmuring something about being cold.

 

“Oh gods,” Yifan muttered beside him, kneeling to pick up something from the floor. Junmyeon turned to see him holding Yixing’s dance shoes, the insides crusted with blood, as if he had been made to dance for a very, very long time.

 

Yixing cringed at the sight of the shoes, fingers digging into Junmyeon’s shirt as he began to cry, soft heaving sobs.

 

“I- I’m sorry!” he wailed as Junmyeon gathered him close, terrified at just how thin his brother had become. His shoulder blades were protruding, jutting from his skin and he could feel his ribs almost immediately through his shirt.

 

“I just- I just wanted to dance,” Yixing sniffled and Junmyeon combed fingers through his hair as the words spilled from his mouth.

 

“He- He came in the night. His name is Kai,” he choked, “we danced together, every night in his father’s palace.”

 

“Every night?” Yifan echoed, stunned. Junmyeon glanced at the shoes in his hand, understanding dawning upon him.

 

“How did he get in? Father put guards around your room and your windows. The doors are bolted every night.”

 

“Through the staircase.” Yixing pointed to the giant mosaic at the centre of the room, still sniffling. He was trembling in Junmyeon’s arms.

 

“Every night the mosaic transforms into a staircase that takes us under. We pass a forest of silver trees and then there’s a lake. The castle is across the lake. It was so beautiful.”

 

Yixing took on a dreamy tone, even though he was still trembling, the fear in his body palpable.

 

“I didn’t mean to stay so long. But he was handsome and the music, oh the music, was wonderful. We danced all night, until my shoes wore out and then he would me back. He came every night, even when I was so tired and exhausted that I didn’t want to dance.”

 

At that, he began to shudder, his voice shaking.

 

“I can’t dance anymore, hyung. I can’t. I’ll die if I do. I’m so tired.” He buried his face into Junmyeon’s chest, and the older prince his back gently, his mind running a million miles.

 

“He’s coming back. Tonight. He’ll make me dance again and I can’t,” Yixing sobbed. He pulled away, tugging the covers away to reveal his bare feet.

 

Junmyeon could not hold back his gasp of horror.

 

The skin on his feet was cracked and there were ravines of dried blood in those cracks. His heels were covered in blisters and there was still skin coming off his ankles in patches.

 

Yifan look similarly horrified, his mouth agape.

 

Gingerly, Junmyeon touched them, wincing inside when skin came off at his touch, Yixing shuddering with a gasp.

 

“I can’t-,” his brother’s voice broke and he buried his face in his hands, his shoulders beginning to shake.

 

Junmyeon held him as he cried himself to sleep, rocking him like a child. He exchanged concerned looks with Yifan, who looked as if he was torn between his heart being broken and tearing into the man who had been coming to claim Yixing in the night.

 

“He can’t go on like this,” he said softly, as he laid his brother back down to sleep. Already, he could feel fever breaking across Yixing’s brow, his forehead warm to the touch.

 

Yixing barely stirred when he stepped away, tugging the covers over him. His brows were creased, as if he felt pain even in his dreams.

 

Junmyeon’s heart cracked. How could he have been so ignorant? He could remember now, a few nights ago at dinner, how pale and shaken his brother had looked, how he had pleaded with him to sleep in his room but he had pushed him away.

 

Yifan followed him silently as he headed straight for the library. He had no idea where to start looking, but the library would be a start.

 

He could not imagine how Yifan had to be feeling, knowing that the man he loved had been seeing someone else at night. Yixing had showed such interest in him as well, that Junmyeon had been convinced that his brother truly had feelings for the cobbler.

 

“We’ll never know what we’re facing unless we go down there,” the cobbler muttered as Junmyeon began pulling books from the shelves, searching for any mention of a hidden staircase and men appearing in bedrooms.

 

“We can’t. He comes only for Yixing. If there’s anyone else in the room, he will not come,” Junmyeon replied. He was sure of this as Yixing had begged him numerous times to sleep in his bed, citing nightmares as the reason.

 

He had ignored him then. The guilt was a stone in the pit of his stomach. Mother had asked him to take care of his brothers.

 

He had done right by Baekhyun, but had neglected Yixing as a result.

 

“I can,” Yifan said, with such certainty in his voice that Junmyeon looked up.

 

The cobbler’s lips were set in a thin line, his brows furrowed.

 

“I have an invisibility cloak. Passed down from my mother’s side of the family,” he explained and Junmyeon wished that he did not believe him but there was such surety in his eyes that there was no doubt he was telling the truth.

 

“I can hide in his room and go with him to that underground palace.”

 

“No, let me,” Junmyeon began. There was a ball in his throat, the guilt tugging at him relentlessly. If he had paid more attention, if he had just listened, perhaps they would not be in such a predicament.

 

“You can’t. It’s too dangerous,” Yifan argued back, his hand closing around the prince’s wrist.

 

Junmyeon shook his head mutely. He could not speak for if he knew if he tried, the tears would come spilling out.

 

Yifan seemed to read his mind, bending to look him in the eye.

 

“You are needed here, Your Highness. I’m expendable. Let me go.”

 

Junmyeon opened his mouth but the cobbler cut him off before he could say a word.

 

“Think of your father, of Baekhyun. What if something goes wrong? They need you here.”

 

Yifan’s eyes seemed to burn right into his soul as he gripped his wrist.

 

There was a part of him that wanted to protest, that wanted to beg Yifan let him go, to let him make things right. But the cobbler’s words were true.

 

As much as it pained him to let someone else do the job, he was the crown prince and Baekhyun needed him just as much. Their family needed him.

 

Swallowing, he nodded.

 

They agreed not to tell Yixing, such that the younger prince would not behave in any manner that would raise suspicion and that very night, Junmyeon let Yifan into the bedroom himself, under the pretence of visiting his brother.

 

Yixing was worse than ever, his forehead burning with fever. Coughs wracked his small frame as he tried to swallow some of the porridge Junmyeon had brought with him.

 

“Does Papa know?” He rasped when Junmyeon pushed aside his covers to rub a soothing balm over his injured feet.

 

Junmyeon shook his head mutely. Their father was still grieving, he knew, and it would trouble him no end if he realised that Yixing had been sneaking out with unnatural creatures of the night.

 

Yixing grimaced but kept still as his brother massaged over his sore feet, fingers clenching into his pillow.

 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again when Junmyeon raised a glass to his lips, his cheeks flushed with fever. Tears were shining in his eyes, like stars as he bent his head, drinking deeply.

 

“Don’t be,” Junmyeon whispered, kissing his forehead tenderly, “I should be sorry that I didn’t listen to you.”

 

Yixing shook his head in mild protest as he rose from his seat, making to leave. Fingers curled into the hem of his sleep shirt and he looked down to see his brother looking at him pleadingly.

 

“Don’t go,” he pleaded faintly, “I’m scared, hyung.”

 

Though his heart screamed at him to stay, to keep the creepy bastard away from his younger brother, his mind forced him to think of the plan.

 

“Just tonight, alright? Just sleep by yourself tonight. I promise everything will be alright,” he bent, even as silver tears began sliding down Yixing’s face, carving tracks in his skin, pressing a kiss to his brother’s hair.

 

Yixing’s quiet whimpering broke his heart and it nearly killed him to walk out that door and close it behind him.

 

He had to stop behind the closed door, swallowing back his tears and fighting back the urge to walk back inside.

 

“Hyung?”

 

The sweet voice snapped him from his thoughts and he looked down to see little Baekhyun staring up at him in concern.

 

“Is Yixing hyung alright?”

 

Tiny fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt and there was warmth against his legs, Baekhyun doing his best to climb him like a tree.

 

Fighting back the urge to cry, he bent, picking up his brother with one arm, Baekhyun immediately nuzzling into his neck happily.

 

“I hope so, Hyunnie. I hope so.”

 

-

 

The grinding of stones against each other snapped Yifan awake and he looked up to see the mosaic on the floor sinking into the ground, heavy footfalls echoing out of the hole.

 

The man who stepped out was indeed handsome, dressed in a tight fitting suit the colour of the sky at midnight. The lining of his blazer was purple velvet and it shimmered, as if the stars themselves had been sewn into the fabric.

 

Yixing was already awake and the look of fear on his face made Yifan’s heart clench. Anger was rising to his throat, his vision seeing red. But he kept his composure, making no sound as the man bent over the bed.

 

“Kai, please,” Yixing breathed, reaching up even as the man kissed him, fingers tangling in his hair.

 

“Can’t we stay here tonight? I’m exhausted,” his plea was weak even as the man swept aside his covers, pressing his hands to his poor, blistered feet.

 

“Not tonight, my love. We must dance,” Kai murmured, and Yifan watched as the blisters and scars faded from Yixing’s feet, the skin smooth and clean once more.

 

Yixing whimpered pitifully as Kai picked up his new dance shoes, tenderly lacing them on.

 

“Up you get,” Kai had his arms around Yixing before he could protest, dragging him to his feet. The prince could hardly stand on his own, so weak from his fever.

 

“Kai, please, I don’t want to dance-.” Yixing’s voice fell into silence as the dark prince picked him up, guiding him over to the staircase. Yifan rose from his hiding place, following closely as the pair walked down the stairs, Kai grunting from the effort it took to keep the prince upright.

 

He tried to keep his footsteps as quiet as possible but he must have made some noise, because Yixing spun around, nearly slipping in his prince’s arms.

 

“What was that?” he cried and Kai turned to look.

 

Yifan’s heart was pounding wildly in his chest as he remained as still as he could, his heart in his mouth.

 

Kai’s piercing eyes swept past him, and he shook his head, lips twisting into an unhappy line.

 

“There’s nothing there, my dear. Now let’s go or we shall be late.”

 

Yixing did not seem to believe him, but he had no choice but to follow.

 

They emerged out into a forest, and Yifan’s jaw dropped at the sight.

 

There were hundreds, upon thousands of trees, as silver as the moon, growing straight out of the ground. They were real too, as he discovered, when he pressed his hand against the trunk of the nearest tree.

 

It was cool against his skin and Yifan knew he had to bring some back for Junmyeon. It would help their research so much. No natural place could have trees of silver literally growing out of the ground.

 

Reaching up, he snapped a twig as gently as he could.

 

But the crack was loud in the silent forest and Yixing whirled around again, his prince making a disgusted sound.

 

“What is it now, my love?” His tone was impatient as Yixing surveyed the silver forest. Yifan huddled back as the prince’s eyes searched the trees for any sign of the sound.

 

“Did you hear that?” he asked and Kai’s lips pulled into a grimace, his fingers digging into Yixing’s arm so hard that the prince made a pained sound.

 

“I must have stepped on a branch, nothing to worry about, dearest,” he said through his teeth and without waiting for an answer, tugged Yixing along.

 

Yifan followed, anger burning in his chest.

 

They emerged from the forest at the banks of an enormous lake, a sheet of black glittering water that stretched for miles. Beyond it, a castle rose high, black stones shimmering.

 

The prince stepped into a little silver boat, helping Yixing into it. Yifan stepped in with them, sitting at the bow as Kai picked up the oars, rowing them across the water.

 

“Are you alright?” Yixing asked and Yifan felt a sense of satisfaction flit through him as the prince struggled with his oars, clearly unused to the added weight.

 

“The boat is much heavier tonight,” Kai grunted and Yixing gasped, his expression twisting into one of offence.

 

“How dare you!” he snapped, stepping off the boat the very moment they arrived on shore. He wobbled, nearly falling but Kai caught him, his face flushed.

 

“I didn’t mean-,” he started and Yixing yanked away from him, his knees buckling.

 

“My love!” Kai caught him in his arms and Yifan felt the ugly snake of jealousy rise in his chest as he watched Yixing lean against the man, coughs wracking his body.

 

His clothes were changing as Kai held him, turning into a black suit jacket and pants that matched his prince’s exactly, with stars shimmering in the fabric.

 

“I told you I couldn’t dance,” he choked, one hand pressed to his mouth. Kai made no reply and Yixing leaned heavily against him as he was led into the castle.

 

The ballroom was massive, with glittering gold chandeliers hung above. There were so many other people, already dancing when they entered.

 

The king was sat atop his throne, gazing down at his subjects with a snake smile that made Yifan’s skin crawl. He scuttled to the corner of the room as the king rose from his throne at the sight of his son.

 

“Ah, Prince Yixing.”

 

Kai bowed before his father, Yixing following his lead.

 

“You’re late,” the king said, still smiling. His tone was cordial enough, but everyone could hear the underlying threat.

 

“I- I apologize.” Yixing bowed once more, one hand curled around Kai’s arm, “I am unwell, sir.”

 

The king raised his eyebrows as the prince straightened, taking a step closer towards him. Yifan wanted to cry out for him to stop, as he curled spindly fingers around Yixing’s chin, tipping him up to face him fully.

 

“I am sorry to hear that,” the king said smoothly, waving a careless hand in the air. A servant materialised at his side, bearing a golden chalice.

 

“Perhaps this will help.” he took the chalice, offering it to Yixing. Yixing managed to keep a straight face, but Yifan’s heart nearly stopped.

 

“No, thank you, sir,” the prince said haltingly, straightening. His lips were pulled into a pained grimace as the king nodded at him, Kai leading him away onto the dance floor.

 

Yifan was standing close enough to hear every painful cough that wracked Yixing’s body, every grimace as Kai led him through the dances. He could see the prince’s energy level visibly dip as they danced and Kai’s were rising, his cheeks filling out, a healthy flush reaching his cheeks.

 

With a start of horror, he realised what was happening.

 

Kai was draining him, of energy and life in general. That explained the fever and constant state of low energy.

 

By the end of the night, Yixing was drooping, his steps stumbling and as unsure as a newborn lamb’s. His shoes were once again worn through to the soles and Yifan could hardly imagine the pain he was in as Kai led him out on his arm, practically glowing.

 

Yixing gasped when he stepped into the silver boat, his knees buckling and Kai jerked, barely able to catch him before he collapsed.

 

“I can’t, Kai, please,” Yifan’s heart broke to hear the prince beg, his slender fingers clutching at Kai’s jacket as the man stepped into the boat.

 

“I can’t dance anymore.”

 

With a grunt, they pushed off, Kai huffing and puffing by the time they arrived at the opposite shore.

 

Yixing was limping, shuddering in pain as the prince helped him up, his lips tightening with sympathy.

 

By the time they made it up the staircase, Yixing could hardly stand, almost entirely leaning against Kai.

 

The prince bent, combing fingers through Yixing’s hair in a gesture that had the ugly snake in Yifan’s chest rearing its head again.

 

“One last time. I promise,” he whispered, “just one more night, my love. And you’ll never have to dance again.”

 

The sentence chilled Yifan’s heart.

 

-

 

“What does that mean?” Junmyeon’s eyes were wide with horror when Yifan relayed the conversation to him, emphasising what the prince had said before he turned into shadow.

 

“His Highness is so weak, I fear that if he dances one more night, his heart may stop,” Yifan said.

 

Junmyeon was perched on the edge of the bed, watching his brother’s chest rise and fall. His breathing was shallow, his forehead beaded with sweat and he was barely lucid by the time Junmyeon had gotten to him.

 

It had been a struggle to get him to drink even the littlest bit of the medicinal broth that Junmyeon had asked the cook to whip up.

 

He had run into their father while bearing the soup and the king had known immediately that someone was unwell.

 

“Is it Yixing?” He asked tensely, eyes flickering to the bowl of soup in his hands.

 

Junmyeon swallowed and bowed his head.

 

“It is only a little head cold, Father. He will be well soon.” He tried to sound as reassuring as he could even though his heart was thumping in his chest at the lies sliding off his tongue.

 

Father had far more pressing things to worry about than his son running off to play with unnatural creatures of the night.

 

The king had only nodded, and not looked convinced when he walked off, the bowl of soup trembling on the tray.

 

“He can’t dance,” Junmyeon said softly, “he can’t dance any longer or he’ll die.”

 

As if in response, Yixing let out a little moan, his lashes fluttering. His eyes were glazed over as he stared up at them, unfocused.

 

“Father will be devastated if he knew.” Junmyeon brushed his fingers delicately over Yixing’s sweat damp hair, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead.

 

“We must go tonight. I will kill that bastard with my own hands if I have to.” His tone was stiff and quiet with fury.

 

“But Your Highness-.”

 

“I must go. It was my fault that this happened. If I had paid more attention, if I had just listened, he wouldn’t be in this state.”

 

Junmyeon rose from the bed, his eyes sharp and piercing.

 

“Can you fit two people under that invisibility cloak of yours?”

 

There could be no room for error, not with Yixing’s life on the line.

 

He purchased a dagger from the silversmith, made from silver melted together with the silver twig that Yifan had brought back.

 

The priests at the temple blessed the weapon and etched runes upon runes of protection into it. They asked no questions, which he was grateful for.

 

How was he to admit that his own negligence had led to his own brother’s wretched state?

 

Night fell quickly, far too quickly for Junmyeon’s liking.

 

His father had come to see Yixing and his fever had broken a little, enough to convince their father that he was close to recovering.

 

The lines in his father’s face did not ease much however, even when Junmyeon shooed him from the room under the pretence of Yixing needing to sleep.

 

He huddled under the invisibility cloak with Yifan, his heart in his mouth when the stones of the mosaic began to shift, creaking and grinding.

 

A figure emerged from the darkness, draped in shadows and darkness. His footsteps were silent when he crossed the room and Junmyeon had to stifle a scream of anger when he pulled the covers away from a sleeping Yixing.

 

“Wake up, dearest.” he caressed Yixing’s cheek gently and he watched as his brother stirred, his lips parting with a little cry of fear.

 

“Kai.” He tried to squirm away but the prince had his arm in a death grip.

 

“Kai, please, I can’t. Not anymore. Please let me go, please,” he begged even as he was bodily dragged from his bed, his new shoes forcefully laced onto his aching feet.

 

“It’s the last night, my dearest. I promise. The last night and you will never have to dance again.”

 

Yixing was crying even as he was dragged to his feet, tears streaming down his face like pearls on a broken necklace.

 

Kai shook him hard and wiped his tears.

 

“Don’t cry, dearest. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

 

Junmyeon stifled a gasp when Yixing’s night clothes were transformed into the loveliest shade of navy, stark against his snowy skin.

 

His lips were dark with rouge but no amount of makeup could hide the hollows in his eyes or his sunken cheeks.

 

“Come,” they walked down the enchanted staircase together and Junmyeon and Yifan followed, keeping their footsteps as quiet as they could.

 

Junmyeon clapped a hand over his mouth when they came to the bottom of the steps, eyes wide in wonder when he came upon the forest of silver trees.

 

They climbed aboard the very boat that Yixing entered, though the thought of being so close to the underworld prince made his skin crawl.

 

Junmyeon pressed a hand to the lining of his jacket, feeling the reassuring weight of the dagger under his fingers.

 

Kai noticed the extra weight, it seemed, but made no mention of it, huffing and puffing until they arrived at the other end.

 

Yixing only sat in the stern, like a ghost, his dark eyes dull and lifeless.

 

He nearly collapsed when Kai helped him from the boat, his face so white that it was nearly translucent.

 

Junmyeon’s heart trembled as he followed closely behind them, the music playing from the ballroom eerie to his ears.

 

Yixing barely danced two steps before he was coughing, a pale hand pressed to his chest, his footsteps stumbling to a stop.

 

Kai had to hold him up as he hacked and coughed and everything in Junmyeon was screaming for him to pry the prince’s hands away from his brother.

 

“Your dancing is subpar today, Prince Yixing.” The voice chilled his blood and sent shivers down his spine. It was nothing but pure evil and he could see it on the face of the man who stood before his brother.

 

He wore a black crown that shimmered beneath the chandeliers and was wrapped in an oily looking cloak with silver trim.

 

He was handsome, as handsome as one so evil could be, with a face that looked as if it had been carved out of rock instead of marble.

 

His eyes slid slowly across the hall and Junmyeon felt a chill run down his spine when his gaze lingered over the area him and Yifan were hiding in before moving on.

 

Slowly, the courtiers stopped dancing and the music faded away into the night.

 

Junmyeon had to suppress the urge to run over and rip the man’s hand from his body when he grasped Yixing’s chin and tipped it up, his brother’s eyes widening in fear.

 

“Your Grace,” he murmured, trembling as he tried to bow but only succeeded in nearly falling over himself.

 

“You look so very pale,” the king observed and Yixing shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut weakly when the king curled fingers around his throat.

 

“I am unwell, sir,” he murmured faintly.

 

“Hmm. You’ve brought guests with you. Unwelcome guests.”

 

To Junmyeon’s horror, the king’s eyes swept over the room once more, colliding directly with him. He drew his weapon just as Kai lunged, yanking Yixing up against his chest.

 

“No!” Junmyeon cried out when the prince laid a blade of indigo against his brother’s white throat.

 

Yixing’s eyes were wide with terror, too frightened to even scream.

 

“Brother?” He gaped and the king chuckled, fingers along his cheek.

 

Beside him, Junmyeon heard Yifan inhale sharply, dropping the invisibility cloak.

 

“Don’t come closer,” the prince hissed, “or I’ll slit his throat.”

 

“How very brave of them to come after you, little one,” the king mused and Yixing whimpered faintly, his eyes locked onto Junmyeon’s face.

 

“Let him go,” he snarled but Kai only tightened his grip, one hand sliding into Yixing’s hair to yank his head back.

 

Yifan lurched forward but with a flick of his fingers, the king sent him flying back across the room, slamming into the wall with a harsh thud.

 

“Yifan!” Junmyeon held out his dagger with a trembling hand, watching as the cobbler dragged himself back to his feet.

 

“You’re already too late, little prince. Your brother is nearly gone,” the king said softly with a satisfied smile.

 

Junmyeon glanced at Yixing, who was like a wilting flower. His face had grown even paler and he could hardly stand on his own.

 

Kai on the other hand, was glowing. He was draining him, taking his life force.

 

“Leave him alone,” he growled and Kai cast his brother aside like a rag doll, leaping forward when Junmyeon lunged for the king, his indigo blade making sparks when it collided with Junmyeon’s silver one.

 

Yixing fell, his knees crumpling beneath him and he lay on his side, his breathing stuttering.

 

“Brother!” He cried faintly and Junmyeon turned towards him, yelping when the blade slashed, grazing his arm.

 

He staggered back, the clang of a sword reaching his ears.

 

Yifan was by his side, blocking Kai’s blade for him. His lips were set in a grim line as he deflected another blow from the dark prince.

 

Junmyeon ran to his brother, cradling him against his chest.

 

Yixing was so pale, his lips nearly white and he was limp in his arms, his breathing shallow. His fingers were cold when they curled around his wrist.

 

“Hyung,” he murmured and Junmyeon held him close, terrified out of his wits.

 

“You’re alright. You’re going to be alright,” Junmyeon whispered, desperately hoping that he was right.

 

He propped his brother up against the nearest pillar and bolted to join Yifan.

 

His eyes were on the king, not the prince, who looked as if he were dancing, his blade carving slashes of purple through the air.

 

But he could not get close before the king noticed him.

 

Junmyeon screamed in shock when the floor erupted, purple tentacles of solid rock coiling around his waist and arms, dragging him into the air.

 

He cried out, thrashing when his sword arm was pinned to his side and another tentacle twined around his neck, squeezing just hard enough that he choked.

 

“Your Highness!” Yifan spun towards him, too distracted to see the blade flying towards him.

 

He screamed too, when the blade cleaved into his left side, sending blood spurting into the air and Junmyeon could only watch in horror when he fell.

 

“No!” Yixing was struggling to his feet, his face bloodless as he stared at Yifan’s fallen body. He was swaying even when he managed to stand, his knees unable to hold his weight.

 

“Leave them alone, please!” He cried when Kai turned towards him, his face a mask of fury.

 

He did not protest when the prince curled fingers into his shirt, dragging him toward him.

 

“Leave them alone,” he breathed and Junmyeon twisted in his restraints, his legs kicking the air uselessly.

 

The coil of rock around his throat squeezed harder and he gasped, his grip on his weapon going slack as all the air seemed to leave his body at once.

 

“Stop, stop!” Yixing cried, his eyes wide with horror.

 

Junmyeon gurgled, fighting to draw air into his lungs. The edges of his vision were filling with black and there were spots dancing before his eyes.

 

“Please, let them go! You already have me. Please.”

 

Yixing said something else but Junmyeon’s world was dulling, the black spots growing ever larger.

 

He gasped in shock when the tentacles released him all at once, dropping him hard onto the ground. The world was spinning around him even as he lay there, panting.

 

Yifan was close by, lying in a pool of his own blood even as he tried to stem the bleeding.

 

“How noble,” the king purred and Junmyeon’s vision cleared enough for him to see Yixing being held in Prince Kai’s arms, his eyes fluttering shut as the colour drained from his face.

 

“But you have nothing left to give, little one. You’re so close now, so close.”

 

Yixing was swaying, the strength leaving his limbs and Junmyeon could not help the cry that tore from his throat as he tried to stand.

 

He wanted to rip his brother out of the prince’s arms and put a knife through the King’s heart but he was weak.

 

Too weak to even save his own brother.

 

A blast ripped through the air, deafening to his ears and the black king shrieked, first in agony and then, when he laid eyes upon the intruder, with amusement.

 

Junmyeon stared, eyes wide when Kai dropped his brother onto the ground, Yixing crumpling into a heap at his feet, and drew his blade, gaze fixed on the man who had appeared in their midst, draped in a silver cloak with the hood raised over his head.

 

“Well, well, well, look who has finally come home.”

 

His mouth dropped open when the intruder dropped his hood back, revealing his face.

 

“Father?”

 

His father did not turn to look at him, his eyes burning like stars into the Black King’s face.

 

“Leave my sons out of this, Siwon. Your fight is with me.”

 

“Oh, but are your sons not a part of you, Jungsoo? Are they not your flesh and blood?”

 

Junmyeon screamed in agony when Kai lashed out at him, barely rolling out of the way in time. The blade caught his shoulder, tearing through his skin.

 

He grabbed at it, gasping.

 

Blood poured from the wound, dripping between his fingers as he sat up, eyes wide. His fingers closed on something on the floor, cold and metal and he exhaled, crouching over it so as to hide it from view.

 

His father was looking at him, his face white. There was a twist to his lips that Junmyeon knew meant that he was hurting.

 

“I’m alright, Father,” he tried to reassure him with his trembling words.

 

But he was not looking at him anymore.

 

He was looking at Yixing, curled up into a ball on the floor, his breathing so shallow that Junmyeon could hardly tell he was breathing at all.

 

“How sweet,” the black king swept aside his robes, revealing a long, wickedly sharp blade that glinted purple in the light.

 

Junmyeon’s breath hitched in his throat and scrambled to get away, but before he could move far, there was a hand in his hair and he was being yanked upwards, the king’s blade pressing painfully against his throat.

 

“Junmyeon!” His father took a step forward but Junmyeon made a pained noise in his throat as the blade dug into his skin, drawing blood.

 

“You have three now, do you not?”

 

The Black King’s tone was quiet, as he held Junmyeon in his arms, so tightly that the prince could not move for fear of slitting his own throat.

 

His own dagger was still concealed in his hand, hidden up his sleeve so that no one could see it.

 

“This one.” the blade lifted a little and Junmyeon exhaled.

 

“The one who dances.”

 

Dark eyes the colour of obsidian flitted to Yixing, who was motionless on the floor.

 

“And one more. A child.”

 

“What do you want from my sons, Siwon?”

 

Father’s teeth were clenched but Junmyeon could read the fear in his eyes when the blade so much as twitched.

 

“They are sunlight and we are shadow, Jungsoo. Or have you forgotten where you came from?”

 

The Black King showed white teeth bared into a smile and Junmyeon shuddered.

 

“You are the same as I am, Jungsoo. Never forget your roots,” he singsonged and Junmyeon’s blood chilled.

 

“What?” He could not help the exclamation that fell from his lips and the black king chuckled beside his ear.

 

“Oh, did your father never tell you of me? I’m hurt,” his tone was cold and mocking, the hand in Junmyeon’s hair tightening.

 

“Leave them be, Siwon. This is not of their concern.” His father’s muscles were tense, his eyes flitting to Junmyeon’s face before going back to the black King’s.

 

“You see, your father was of this realm too. He was, you could say, my other half,” the black king continued as if Father had not spoken, raising his blade to trace fingers along Junmyeon’s cheek.

 

“Father?” Junmyeon could not believe his ears.

 

How could his father have belonged to this dark and eerie place? It was so full of magic and creatures with none of the sun that his father loved.

 

Father had always kept his study well lit, with large bay windows, sunlight streaming in.

 

Junmyeon remembered when Mother was ill and he had tried to draw the drapes for her to rest and Father had stopped him, only allowing him to draw the thin, sheer curtains that still allowed in sunlight.

 

“The sun will be good for her,” he had said.

 

The palace was built with massive windows and skylights and was always lit with lamps and candles of the sort even through the night.

 

“But love is a foolish thing, I suppose,” the fingers curled and Junmyeon winced when he felt nails scratching against his cheek, carving lines into his skin.

 

“He fell in love and abandoned me here. He sealed me into this realm and well, now I have all of his most precious things here.”

 

The black king chuckled darkly, spreading his arms, the blade falling away from Junmyeon’s throat.

 

As quickly as he could, Junmyeon let his dagger drop from inside his sleeve, spinning around despite the hand in his hair to drive the blade into the King’s chest.

 

Kai let out a scream of surprise and Junmyeon screamed too, when the blood that spurted from the black king’s chest spilled over his white hand.

 

He darted away, taking advantage of the king and the prince’s surprise to get free.

 

The black king was staring after him, smiling.

 

His gleaming, too white teeth were stained black, like the blood that now tainted Junmyeon’s skin.

 

“Your son has fire, Jungsoo,” he grinned, lips stretching grotesquely.

 

“I like that.”

 

Junmyeon stumbled into his father’s arms, eyes wide with horror.

 

The king seemed completely unaffected by the dagger in his chest.

 

In fact, he only seemed amused.

 

“Papa, what do we do?” Junmyeon asked, trying to regain his composure. His shoulder still twinged and his scalp hurt.

 

“Can he be killed?”

 

Before his question to be answered, a purple blast exploded before them, his father barely throwing up a shield in time to keep them from being hit.

 

“You fetch Yixing and that cobbler and leave this place at once, do you hear me? You should never have come.”

 

His father’s voice was a low snarl as he yanked something off his neck, shoving it into Junmyeon’s hands.

 

Junmyeon fumbled, nearly dropping the tiny thing. He pushed it into his pocket, gasping when another blast of magic was leveled at them, his father grunting at the impact.

 

“In my study. The desk-.”

 

A blast of magic sent the king skittering back, Kai running to his side.

 

Junmyeon tightened his grip on his sword when his father cast him a furious glance.

 

“There is a book that will explain everything.”

 

He grunted in pain when another blast shattered against his shield and white exploded from his fingertips, sending Kai onto his back.

 

“One more thing, Junmyeon.”

 

Junmyeon cringed back and his father flung up an arm to shield him when his shield shattered, fragments piercing his flesh.

 

“Don’t trust the priests. Now go!”

 

Junmyeon’s heart stuttered.

 

“But father-,” he tried but his father cut him off.

 

“Go now!”

 

Choking back tears, Junmyeon darted out while his father kept the King’s attention.

 

He had barely snagged Yixing’s arm when white hot pain flashed up his shoulder, a scream tearing from his throat.

 

He managed to keep his footing, even when the pain threatened to send him to his knees.

 

“Junmyeon!” His father’s cry was a roar but Junmyeon tuned him out, focusing on breathing in and out, trying to filter out the pain.

 

He dragged Yixing into his arms, his brother’s skin so white that he might as well be a ghost.

 

Yixing was dead weight in his arms as he tried to lift him, screaming aloud when his shoulder protested at the weight.

 

“Your Highness,” Yifan was suddenly beside him, his lips pinched with pain.

 

His side was a mess, mangled and bloody and he was limping.

 

“Let me hold him,” he murmured and Junmyeon yelped when Yifan’s left leg buckled, threatening to collapse.

 

“You can’t! You’re hurt,” he gasped when Yifan merely grunted, his eyes screwing shut in agony when he hefted Yixing into his arms.

 

“We have to go,” he gasped.

 

Junmyeon glanced back at his father, fiercely battling back Kai and the black king and his hand ached for the dagger he had left in the king’s chest.

 

“You go, I have to-.”

 

“No. You must come. You are the heir to the kingdom. They need you. Your brother needs you,” Yifan’s tone left no room for argument when he grabbed Junmyeon’s wrist, pulling him along.

 

“No, but- but Father!” Junmyeon turned just in time to see his father unleash a blast that sent Kai flying across the room.

 

“Your father was right. You should have never come. I should have never brought you here,” Yifan hissed in pain, stumbling and staggering towards the doors with Junmyeon at his side. His knee buckled and Junmyeon yelped when he nearly dropped Yixing.

 

“When he finds out, I’ll be dead.”

 

Junmyeon climbed into the boat, taking his brother from Yifan’s arms as the cobbler shoved them off the bank, barely making it on board in time.

 

He reached for the oars but Junmyeon got to them first.

 

“You sit and rest. Your wounds are severe. I do not understand how you are even still conscious,” he scolded.

 

Yifan flashed him a weak smile.

 

“I have a high tolerance for pain?”

 

Adrenaline surged through him when a figure appeared in the doorway of the ballroom and began running towards them, teeth bared in an ugly snarl.

 

A thrill of fear shot through him and Junmyeon rowed, as hard as he could, the pain in his shoulder fading in the wake of the adrenaline surge.

 

The boat was heavy with the weight of three people and Junmyeon's arms were aching, his clothes soaked with water by the time they had crossed the bank.

 

“How will Father get back?” he cried when he climbed out, staggering under Yixing’s weight.

 

Yifan steadied him, clasping a hand to his side with a curse that made Junmyeon’s cheeks flush.

 

“Language,” he snapped and the cobbler chuckled weakly. The humour drained out of his eyes when he got a good look at the prince.

 

“Your Highness,” he gaped, “you’re bleeding.”

 

Junmyeon felt his shoulder, where Kai’s blade had grazed him. It was the same shoulder that the black King’s blast had seared over.

 

“Oh,” he said very quietly when he felt it.

 

There was a lot of blood.

 

If he turned back to look in the gondola, he would see bloodstains on the rim of the boat where his shoulder had been positioned as he rowed.

 

He could smell it too, the metallic tang too sharp and overwhelming.

 

“We best hurry,” Yifan said, reaching for Junmyeon’s elbow, “don’t faint, Your Highness.”

 

Junmyeon shook off the nausea that pitched through his stomach and allowed himself to be dragged along by his uninjured hand.

 

They stumbled through the forest, half dead with exhaustion and wounded.

 

Junmyeon had never been more glad to see stairs in his life when they finally came upon the stone steps leading back up to Yixing’s bedchambers.

 

“Your Highness, quickly!”

 

It was a priest, standing at the foot of the stars.

 

His eyes were wide and anxious when they reached them, helping to steady them as they climbed.

 

There were more priests, when they emerged from the stairwell, the white robes they wore near blinding after so long in a realm without light.

 

“Quickly, we must seal it before the evil escapes!”

 

Junmyeon whirled around so suddenly that the priest grasping his waist nearly slipped.

 

“What do you mean seal it?” he cried.

 

“Father is still down there!”

 

Another priest came up to him, eyes lit upon the ugly wound in his shoulder and the blood staining his hands.

 

“His Majesty summoned us before he went,” he said solemnly, “and he asked that we seal the gateway when you arrived back, Your Highness.”

 

Junmyeon let out a strangled cry.

 

“How will he get out then?” he demanded, trying to fight the hands that were reaching to grab him, to calm him.

 

“How will Father come back?”

 

The silence of the priests was heavy enough to crush the very wind from his lungs.

 

He lurched, struggling out of the priests’ grasping arms in an attempt to return to the staircase but there were too many of them and he was tired.

 

So tired.

 

His knees buckled and he burst into tears as he fell, the many hands catching him. His mind was blurred and his blood was roaring in his ears.

 

How could he lose his father now, when they had only barely just grieved for Mother?

 

“Father,” he choked, “Papa!”

 

He could still hear his father in his mind, screaming for him to go when he sank into the abyss of darkness, the priests’ alarmed cries ringing in his ears.

 

-

 

When he came to, he was lying in his own bed, the covers pulled up to his chin.

 

There was a warm body next to him, stirring when he sat up.

 

Junmyeon could not remember ever being so sore.

 

His muscles ached, his head throbbing as if someone was swinging a pickaxe at his skull.

 

When he moved, his shoulder screamed, hot flashes of pain exploding through his nerves.

 

Junmyeon bit back a cry of agony, fingers clenching in the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white.

 

“Your Highness.” The golden head at his side lifted and he turned to see Yifan blinking bleary eyes at him.

 

“Yixing,” he gasped, “Father, where- where are they?”

 

“Your brother is in the priests’ care.” Yifan’s expression was unreadable, “they do not know if he will wake up yet.”

 

Junmyeon’s chest felt like it was being crushed beneath a sledgehammer and he had to swallow before speaking once more.

 

“Father?”

 

Yifan’s gaze softened, the corners of his lips down turning.

 

“He has not yet returned,” he said, and Junmyeon’s heart stuttered. He tried to keep his composure.

 

“Baekhyun?”

 

“Asleep in his bed.”

 

“I want to see Yixing.”

 

Pain was lancing through his body, hot flashes that made him break out in cold sweat but Junmyeon needed to know.

 

He had to know that his brother was safe and alive.

 

“Your Highness!” Yifan yelped when he slid off the bed and his knees buckled upon contact with the ground.

 

He grabbed him and they both gasped in pain.

 

“What are you doing out of bed when you’re still hurt!” Junmyeon scolded when they got to their feet, catching hold of the bed to keep his balance.

 

Yifan gave him a pained, crooked smile.

 

“I needed to talk to you,” he said quietly and Junmyeon settled.

 

“What about?” He asked stiffly.

 

“Your brother.”

 

-

 

The world was dark when he awoke and there was a warm body beside him, cuddled right up against him.

 

His neck felt wet, as if someone had wept over him, leaving tear tracks on his skin.

 

Yixing rolled over and groaned, pain filtering through his nerves.

 

He was sore and aching and his feet had never hurt so much in his life.

 

“Yixing?”

 

The sheets rustled and Junmyeon emerged, hair tousled, eyes red and swollen as if he had been crying.

 

The guilt struck him immediately.

 

“Hyung,” Yixing murmured faintly, reaching for him. He did not even noticed that he was crying until Junmyeon had him in his arms, holding him so tightly that he could scarcely breathe.

 

“How much do you remember?” Junmyeon asked, wiping his tears gently, “you’ve been asleep for seven days.”

 

He too, looked exhausted, as if he had not gotten much sleep at all.

 

“Seven… days?”

 

Yixing stared, boggled.

 

He remembered in flashes, of purple and silver and the crimson of Yifan’s blood when he lay on the ground, unresponsive.

 

He remembered Kai’s fingers in his shirt, the cold of the marble floor when he had struck it and a white blast before everything faded away.

 

“How did we get out?” he asked softly.

 

Junmyeon’s face was pale in the moonlight, his dark hair flopping into his eyes when he said the words that chilled his blood.

 

“Father saved us.”

 

“Father?” He stared.

 

“What do you mean? How- How did he-?”

 

“He summoned the priests. He opened the gate and came down and- and fought the black king,” Junmyeon stuttered, his brother’s cheek.

 

His gaze was far away and so full of pain that Yixing’s stomach pitched.

 

“How did he-. Did he know all this time? Where is he? Where is Father, hyung?”

 

His brother’s face crumpled and Yixing’s heart dropped.

 

“No,” he murmured, “no, no!”

 

Junmyeon was crying silently, weeping tears that gleamed in the moonlight as he clung to him, guilt and pain welling up in his chest.

 

“No.” Yixing did not know what else to say.

 

Junmyeon pulled him against his chest when he began to cry too, body trembling as he buried his face into his brother’s chest.

 

“I- I didn’t even get to see him. I didn’t tell him I was sorry-,” Yixing stumbled over his words, disbelief clawing through the guilt.

 

“Tell me it’s not true, hyung. Tell me.” He let out a heart wrenching sob and his fingers curled tighter into Junmyeon’s night clothes, nails digging into his flesh.

 

Junmyeon shook his head.

 

How could he lie?

 

The gateway was sealed.

 

No one could ever go through again.

 

There was no way in or out.

 

Yixing broke at the look on his face, great heaving sobs tearing out of his chest that had the priests running in with looks of displeasure on their faces.

 

“He is still not strong, Your Highness. He will make himself ill again if he cries like this.”

 

Hands wrapped around Yixing’s arms, making to pull him out of his brother’s embrace but he fought them weakly.

 

“Leave me alone!” he screamed and the priests released him, startled.

 

“Your Highness, you need more rest-.” The rest of their words fell on deaf ears as Yixing clung to his brother, seeking comfort that he did not deserve.

 

Junmyeon held him through the night, his hair softly as if it could lessen the ball of guilt that sat heavy in Yixing’s throat.

 

Sometime during the night, the door to the room creaked open and Yixing stirred awake to see little Baekhyun scampering across the room.

 

His face was wet with tears and he was sniffling as he climbed up onto the bed, crawling into Yixing’s open arms without a word.

 

It was very reminiscent of them lying together in bed after Mother’s death.

 

Yixing pressed a kiss against Baekhyun’s hair and hugged him close, his brother burying his face into his chest.

 

“I want Papa to come back,” Baekhyun murmured softly, “he’s been gone a while.”

 

Yixing choked and beside him, Junmyeon was stirring.

 

“Go back to sleep, Baek,” he mumbled, as if his sixth sense already knew that Baekhyun had somehow escaped from his own room and into their bed, “the hour is late.”

 

Baekhyun sniffled a little more and snuggled down into Yixing’s arms.

 

The atmosphere in the room was heavy the next morning, when the priests returned to examine his ruined feet. They had wanted to speak to Yixing alone but Junmyeon had insisted on staying.

 

They all knew of the consequences of using black magic in the kingdom, a law that their father had upheld to the utmost degree.

 

To find out that their most beloved king had once been a part of a kingdom so dark that its history had been forgotten and erased was a blow to the entire court and all eyes would be on the crown prince and his brothers, just waiting.

 

Waiting for a statement or to see what they would do.

 

Yixing was grateful for his brother’s presence as the priests frightened him, with their bright white robes and grim expressions.

 

His feet were still dry and cracked, still blistered from his dancing and he was ashamed to show them. It was all evidence they needed that magic had been at play.

 

“How did you discover the gateway?”

 

The high priest spoke, his voice low. It was not accusing, not quite, but Yixing still trembled, gripping his brother’s hand tightly.

 

“He came to me,” he stuttered, “his name was Kai and he came to me after Mother-, after the funeral.”

 

Junmyeon’s hand was soothing against the small of his back as a scribe scribbled something onto a roll of parchment and the head priest continued, dark eyes boring into the prince.

 

“You did not open the gateway yourself, then?”

 

Yixing shook his head vehemently.

 

“No, sir. He came one night and frightened me. I thought I was having a nightmare. Junmyeon- Junmyeon came to wake me.”

 

He glanced at his older brother and Junmyeon nodded, holding him close.

 

Yixing winced, a spark of pain travelling up his leg when another priest traced a finger over a crack in his foot.

 

“I did. He was raving and ranting about a man in black that radiated fear. I thought he was suffering from a night terror.”

 

“And he came again. And you were not frightened this time?”

 

Yixing hesitated. He did not want to tell this man of the dream he had of Mother. It was far too personal, but Junmyeon nudged him.

 

“I- I dreamt of him. And Mother,” he said, tripping over his words. Junmyeon’s hand was sliding up and down his back encouragingly as he spoke.

 

“Mother knew him. She spoke of him fondly. And- and he asked if I would like to dance in his Castle Under Stone. I agreed and so he came.”

 

“Willingly?” The priest had his eyebrows raised and Yixing could feel his brow break out in a cold sweat.

 

“You willingly went with a strange prince, who turned out to be an unnatural creature from the depths of the underworld without a single thought of what it might cost?”

 

Yixing’s cheeks warmed and he cast his eyes down at his hands. His feet were throbbing when the priest released him and he tucked them under his robes once more.

 

His chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe under the scrutiny of the priest.

 

 “He only wanted to dance, sir,” Junmyeon said stiffly. It was clear that he did not like the tone that the priest had taken with his brother.

 

The priest made an outraged noise.

 

“Dance! What a preposterous reason to-.”

 

“If I may remind you, good sir. This is my brother you are speaking to. He is still a prince. I do not appreciate the way you are speaking to him.” Junmyeon’s eyes were as cold as ice, his grip on Yixing’s hand tight.

 

The priest’s gaze levelled onto his brother and Yixing could breathe a little easier, exhaling quickly.

 

“His Royal Highness went down into an unknown realm with an unknown prince merely because he wanted to dance? You are all educated young men who would surely know better. So why else would he have gone?”
 

Yixing stifled a gasp and Junmyeon’s expression darkened. The implication in the words were clear and if proven true, Yixing could be hanged for a multitude of reasons.

 

“Are you implying that my brother was in league with a creature of the dark when he was the one who suffered in their hands? I would choose your next words very carefully, High Priest.”

 

The room was silent, stifling and Yixing wanted out. His heart was thumping wildly in his chest as his brother and the High Priest seemed to have some sort of a stare off.

 

“No, of course not, Your Highness.”

 

The High Priest lowered his head, as if chastised. Another priest brought over a wooden bowl carved with runes, setting it by Yixing’s feet as he spoke again.

 

“But the castle must be purified. If what you heard was true, our beloved king, may he rest in peace, was a dark creature himself. And you, my prince. I mean no disrespect, but you and all your brothers are half breeds of human and creature.”

 

Yixing yelped in pain when his feet were plunged into the wooden bowl filled with water. He did not know what was inside the water but it burned.

 

It felt as if someone had poured a full bottle of brandy over an open wound, hot and cold at the same time. The pain snatched his breath away.

 

He screamed, grabbing for his brother’s hand as the priest yanked the bowl away as quickly as he had put his feet in, wide eyed.

 

“What have you done?”

 

Junmyeon’s anger was a tidal wave, washing over the room as he dropped to his knees to examine Yixing’s injured feet.

 

Yixing slumped back onto the bed, panting as his brother cradled his feet in his hands tenderly.

 

“I- I’m sorry- I didn’t know,” the young priest stammered, the wooden bowl of water half spilled onto the floor and his robes.

 

“What was that?”

 

Junmyeon demanded and the High Priest interrupted before the young man could speak.

 

“Holy water, milord,” he said mildly, his gaze drifting between Junmyeon and Yixing.

 

Junmyeon’s face paled and he released his brother’s legs, rising to his feet.

 

“Put some on my shoulder.” He undid his robes, shrugging it half off to reveal a jagged mess of skin on the shoulder that the Black King had blasted the flesh from.

 

When the priest did not move, he scooped up a handful of water, dripping it onto the scarred flesh.

 

His expression contorted with agony and Yixing grabbed for him when he swayed.

 

“Summon- Summon Yifan at once,” he managed to choke out as he wiped the water onto his robes.

 

The High Priest looked confused at the demand but complied.

 

Yixing hid his face into his brother’s shoulder when the cobbler limped through the doors, flanked by two guards and looking bewildered.

 

Junmyeon patted him, rising from the bed.

 

“Yifan,” he said, his voice much gentler, albeit still strained.

 

“I need you to put holy water on your side.”

 

Yifan stared back at him, possibly wondering if the crown prince had gone mad but Yixing’s breath hitched when he tugged up his shirt obediently, revealing a long, ugly scar that ran along his left side.

 

It was still red and angry looking, as if it was taking a longer time than usual to heal.

 

The guilt sat like a rock in Yixing’s stomach when the young priest held up the bowl and Yifan dipped his hand into it, smearing the water all over the wound.

 

There was no reaction.

 

Junmyeon’s face turned white and he gripped the bed post tightly, as if he might faint.

 

“Your Highness?”

 

“What does this mean?” Junmyeon demanded, his hand trembling as he lowered himself back onto the bed, his expression twisted.

 

The High Priest had lost his smug expression and was stepping forward to examine Junmyeon’s shoulder.

 

“It must be true then. Our king had been a creature of the dark. Only they burn with the touch of holy water.”

 

“And sunlight,” Yixing said softly.

 

He remembered how Kai would never step into his room whenever it came morning. The drapes were left open and often he would return with sunlight streaming across the room.

 

Kai would always kiss him goodbye half way down the stairs and he would return to his room alone.

 

When he could not make it up to his bed without help, Kai was always wincing and toeing around the puddles of light in the room.

 

“Sunlight?”

 

Everyone in the room turned to him and he nodded.

 

“Kai- the underground prince, he would never enter my room in daylight.”

 

“But Father never burned,” Junmyeon pointed out.

 

“He always had the drapes in Mother’s room open when she was ill. And his study had massive windows.”

 

“What did the Black King say exactly? The words are important,” the High Priest asked urgently and Junmyeon’s eyes fluttered close.

 

“He said he was his other half, something about us being sunlight and him being shadow. He put a lot of emphasis on us being his flesh and blood.”

 

“What does this matter?” Yifan cut in. His eyes were fixed upon Yixing’s face and Yixing could feel his cheeks warming and he cast his eyes down quickly, the swirls in the marble floor suddenly all too interesting.

 

“The prince is still weak. He should be allowed to rest.”

 

The High Priest’s eyes darkened.

 

“You are only a cobbler-.”

 

“No,” Junmyeon said from the end of the bed. He looked so very tired all of a sudden.

 

“He’s right. Yixing is still unwell. This is enough for the day. Please see yourselves out.”

 

The High Priest looked as if he was about to protest but one look from Junmyeon and he clammed up, pressing his lips into a line so thin they almost disappeared.

 

“Very well then, Your Highness. What will you have us do while Prince Yixing recuperates?”

 

“Do more research on the Black King and Castle Under Stone. Perhaps Yifan will help you. His family has connections to the white magicians.”

 

Junmyeon waved his hand, dismissing them.

 

Yifan bowed, almost mockingly when the High Priest started, eyes widening and held the doors open for him and his little procession.

 

Yixing curled up beneath the covers, exhaling with relief when the priests were finally gone and it was just him and his brother and Yifan.

 

Yifan.

 

Yixing hid his face into the pillow. He could not face him.

 

Here was a man who he knew had given him his heart and he had snuck around every night, kissing some other man who promised him nothing.

 

Junmyeon seemed to be able to feel the tension in the room thicken as he rose slowly to his feet, pressing a kiss against Yixing’s head.

 

“I will leave the two of you to talk,” he said quietly and Yixing wanted to cry out and beg him to stay.

 

Shame was a river coursing through his body as he heard Yifan’s uneven footsteps come closer, the door closing gently behind his brother.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

Yifan held out a hand as if he wanted to touch but was unsure if he was allowed to.

 

Yixing nodded mutely, his fingers squeezing tighter round the covers.

 

He did not dare to turn and look at the cobbler’s face when he sat down at the very edge of the bed, so close that he could feel heat radiating from his body.

 

“Are you?” he managed to croak out, gesturing vaguely at him.

 

“That looked painful.”

 

Yifan smiled but it was without mirth.

 

“It was.”

 

The silence was heavy and Yixing felt as if he was suffocating in it.

 

“Yifan, I-,” he started and the man raised his hand a little.

 

“You’re not obligated to explain yourself to me, Your Highness. You are a prince and I, only a cobbler.”

 

The title stung, more than it ever had.

 

Yifan used to say it fondly, not like this, formal and stiff.

 

“I do.” Yixing sat up, reaching to grasp his hand, “I do because I care about you, Yifan. And I- I am so sorry.”

 

The words tumbled out before he could stop them.

 

“I never felt anything for him. Nothing like I felt for you. Yifan, I promise my feelings for you are real. It wasn’t a game to me.”

 

“It sure seemed like one,” Yifan’s tone was frosty and Yixing hung his head.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I truly am.”

 

“Perhaps it would be best if I left. For a time,” Yifan said and Yixing looked up, terrified.

 

“What, no!”

 

He squeezed Yifan’s hand close to his chest.

 

“Yifan please, I need you here. Everything’s falling apart and I’m afraid- I’m afraid.”

 

Yifan’s eyes burned with an intensity that Yixing had never seen before but he held his ground.

 

First Mother had left them and now Father was gone.

 

He was not sure he could survive losing another person who was important to him.

 

“Please stay,” he pleaded weakly.

 

Yifan kissed his knuckles, his tone still stiff but there was compassion in his eyes as he tugged the covers over Yixing’s shoulder, tucking him in.

 

“You must rest, Your Highness. We can talk more when you’ve recovered.”