It was a cardinal sin to be so angry, Minseok knew.

What had his father said?

Conceal, don’t feel. Don’t let it show.

For years, he had shut himself away from the world, freezing over his bedroom and his heart while his little brother ran around outside, free as a lark. Minseok was a caged bird while Jongin, Jongin was free to wander as he liked, unashamedly.

Minseok watched him from behind frosted glass, a ghost to the world when his parents left, aboard a ship that would lead to their demise. He would not cry, would merely sit at the other side of the room, listening to Jongin weep outside his door with a cold, dead heart.

It was not till his coronation ball where he met Prince Jongdae did he know the name of the monster purring away in his chest.

Envy, it whispered as he watched Jongdae watch his brother.

Even at his own coronation, Jongin outshone him. He flitted around the room like a butterfly, drawing adoring sighs from the maidens. It was the first time Minseok felt rage burst to life in his .

“You can’t marry a man you’ve just met!”

Liar. Monster.

The ice swallowed the room, exploding from his fingertips when Jongin yanked off his glove.

For the first time, Minseok let himself feel.

The rage was ice in his veins, so cold it burned. He tore off his other glove, and icicles shot from the floor, frost overtaking everything in its path.

The feeling in his heart was foreign, maniacal laughter bubbling out of him even as Jongdae flung himself in front of Jongin, begging him to stop.

Be proud, his monster whispered, see how they all bow before you.

He relished Jongin’s cries, Jongdae’s screams when the ice caged one, seeped into the veins of the other.

His touch was so hot it almost hurt to touch him with ice-cold fingers but Minseok could not resist. The curve of his nose, the curl of his lips were so tantalizing as he struggled to free himself from the ice.

“What do you want from me?” Jongdae gasped when they were both alone, the party-goers chased from the castle.

There was no way in or out anymore. His ice had overtaken the palace, freezing over the hinges and the doors. The windows were so thick with frost that no one from the outside could see in.

A collar of ice had locked itself around the prince’s throat, his wrists locked in manacles that glinted in the light. His breaths came out in puffs of mist, the surrounding temperature dropping so cold that his skin turned blue.

Minseok turned to the frost-covered mirror in the middle of the great hall, his fur-lined cloak sweeping across the floor. He the mink fur absently for a moment, watching the prince gasp in his cage in the reflection.

With a shrug, the cloak pooled around his feet. He never needed it.

The ice statue that had once been his little brother glittered in the background, Jongin’s face frozen in a grotesque scream for help.

Just the memory of how Jongdae had tried to shield him was enough to cause rage to rise in Minseok’s veins. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to wallow in the feelings. The rush of having emotions.

The ice responded to him, covering the floor with a new layer of frost. The temperature dipped and the shackles holding Jongdae grew icicles.

“Please- I can’t-. It’s too cold,” Jongdae gasped.

His face was so pale. Minseok crossed the room to him, brushing a thumb over his blue lips. He was mildly fascinated by the way he was shivering, the way his teeth chattered.

People died from the cold, he knew.

But it never bothered him anyway.

With a fluid motion, he picked the cloak off the floor, draping it around Jongdae’s shivering form. The prince stilled at once, letting out a long breath that spiralled to the ground. He sagged in his bonds, flinching when Minseok caressed his face.

Were his fingers so very cold?

Jongdae’s skin was warm like Minseok had never felt before. He could not remember the last time he had felt so warm. Even the greatest fires never seemed to be enough.

“What do you want?” Jongdae asked wearily, turning his face away.

Minseok caught his chin, admiring the set of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbones. His eyes were like onyx stones set in a marble face and even dusted with snow falling from the ceiling, his hair was still soft when he touched it, like the velvety silk that lined his cloak.

 He had never seen a man quite so beautiful in his life.

“You,” he whispered, allowing himself to smile.

It was a twisted half thing. Years of being locked away from people with only himself for company had ensured that he never quite learned the social norms required of a king. Now, he would not have to be a king.

Jongdae shuddered, whimpering when ice crawled up his legs, freezing them into place.

“What the hell are you?” he whispered, trembling as Minseok a hand over his cheek.

Minseok paused.

What was he?

He was Envy, he was Wrath personified. He was a man of magic who commanded ice and snow. He was lonely and jealous and empty all at once. He was a sinner his father would condemn, would execute on sight. His mother would weep if she could see him now.

So much for concealing and not feeling.

The world could see him now, knew his might and his power. Young Minseok would have been horrified by the pride he took in his magic, in the terror of his people.

But now?

Minseok ran his hand over Jongdae’s quivering shoulder, his smile broadening. He was himself, in the truest sense of the word possible and he revelled in it.

He had become the monster everyone had always feared he would.