"I feel sorry for you, your Highness."

"Please don't call me that. I no longer fit that title."

Sehun wakes up in a strange place. The air feels suffocating. The wind is still. There are dragon carvings on the bedposts, on the walls, on the ceilings. Red silk sheets embroidered with letters from a language he doesn't understand. No windows. No way out. That is when Sehun realizes he is no longer at home. Sehun doesn't know how much time has past until a boy his age walked into the room. No, floated into the room.

"How are my parents? How is Ventania?" He runs towards the boy who holds no intention of answering his queries. He collapses, the headache too much for him to bear.

"My name is Luhan. The king wants me to be your company." With that, the boy leaves a tray of food on the table, and Sehun feels a strange force holding him up and tossing him back down on the bed.

"Are they okay? Are they hurt? I want to go and make sure that you Soranians kept your promise"

"The king requires you to be in his chamber all the time unless said otherwise. You are not allowed to go out of the castle or to the gardens. every time the king needs you, you have to be there." Luhan says nonchalantly, not making eye contact with the younger.

"Hey! I asked you a question!" Sehun yells.

"Sehun-ssi, you are in no position to ask such a question. Your life, your soul, your body, belongs to the king. You are his possession. You are no longer the heir to the throne of Ventania. Now you are a Soranian. You are a mere concubine to satisfy the king's needs. Your rank in this society is even lower than that of a beggar. Do as you are told, because if I were you, I would care more about my own life right now than the safety of those filthy Ventanians."

Sehun gasped. Did the stranger just embed his thoughts into Sehun's brain? As a child, Sehun used to hear stories about Soranians who can hear and manipulate thoughts of other people, but he didn't really believe it until today.

Sehun was half-way through his meal when there were people coming into the room all of a sudden. They pulled on his hair, put powdery substances on his face, forced him into wearing a silk hanbok and through all of this, he complied. A part of his mind told him to rebel, to resist, but the other calmed him down, for the sake of his kingdom. But most of all, he felt like Luhan had forced his mind into becoming more obedient all along.

When General Shim stormed into the throne room, blood gushing from the part of his arm that was not there, Sehun knew his fate.

The capital was under attack. Their army was losing. Their people were dying. Ventania, the kingdom once blooming with life and happiness, now drenched in blood and decaying corpses and lives that were taken without mercy. He could see it happening in front of him: fields of white daisies stained with crimson blood, horrid screams sounding off burning houses, children looking aimlessly for their families,...The soldiers of Sorania had no such thing as a heart.

Zitao had his arms wrapped tightly around Sehun's body in the vain attempt to urge the younger out of the room. Sehun heard something along the lines of "getting out of the city" and "they'll take you away", but Sehun didn't budge. If giving up his freedom meant that the people of Ventania could have theirs, then Sehun was more than willing.

When the crowd pushed their way through the barrier, Sehun closed his eyes and let them take him away, out of the castle, out of protection. His father, their king, slumped down, helpless. His mother, their queen, screamed at them, hopeless. His Zitao, his bodyguard, his lover, lunged at the mob with his sword ready to strike. But Sehun said no. He couldn't let the Soranians destroy any more than they already did.

He paid no mind to the peasants' dirty clothes and calloused hands, instead taking in the sight of battlefields and catastrophe hovering above the capital. Now his life was no longer his. Sehun could no longer feel the ground underneath his feat. They tied him into a pole overlooking the angry ocean. The rope cut into his skin, drawing fresh blood. The wind circled the hem of his shirt and caressed his face, trying to calm him down.

It was just a sacrifice. No hard feelings. No regrets. As a prince, Sehun had the responsibility to do whatever he can to save his kingdom from collapsing. Sehun closed his eyes. He could feel the beast getting close. Its breath left a trail in the winds, the scent of destruction and terror. It is the smell of sulfur and suddenly Sehun felt like throwing up. He could see the houses burning, burning, burning,...

Sehun remembered being thrown into midair. He remembered the growling and flapping, possibly from the foreign monster. He remembered landing onto a hard surface, scales pricking his skin. And before he gave in to unconsciousness, he remembered a stranger staring down at him, eyes filled with a mix of lust and hatred.

"Long live the king! Long live Sorania!"

Sounds of swords clanking fill the air. Sehun feels like throwing up again. Maybe it's the altitude. Having been used to live on the ground, this castle,thousands of miles above sea level, is making him sick in the stomach. Or maybe it's the people itself. He despises Soranians and the inhumane deeds that they have done to his kind. He resents their ignorance, their arrogance, their barbarity. He hates their king, a disgusting man with no heart.

Tonight, all of Sorania is celebrating the defeat of Ventania. Tonight, Sehun will mourn. In grief. In silence.

"And now, our main entertainment of the night. Let's welcome, our guest, the Prince of the filthy, the Heir to Ventania's throne, the beautiful Oh Se Hun!"

Laughter fills the air. Sehun is thrown into center stage, disgusted looks fixed onto his every move. the hanbok is too tight, making it harder to move. Sehun could hardly stand up, tears threatening to spill. In his head, he can hear Luhan screaming at him. In the crowd he can see people sneering at him, wanting him dead.

Sehun stares right into the eyes of he king and immediately regrets it. Luhan sends a sharp pain through his brain, making him look the other way. With shaky legs Sehun gets himself to his feet, only to fall down again in the midst of laughter and insults from the crowd.

The shame for his country. The shame for his ancestors. The shame for himself. It is too much for him to handle.

Sehun breaks down into tears while Luhan manipulates him like a puppet on invisible strings. Sehun dances, but for the entertainment of his enemies. He closes his eyes and waits for it to end. He thinks of Zitao and how the older would have him in his arms, giving him the strength to move on in this dark, unhappy world. Luhan sends another excruciating pain through his skull.

Sehun knows he shouldn't have, but he looks up to the king for the second time. 

In the king's eyes he sees lust.

A/N: it's cold and i need a hug. anyone? anyone? :(

i don;t even know why i write angsty stories all the time. well, until i can write fluff and rainbows, enjoy!