The streets were wet and dank with the rain that pelted from the gray clouds overhead, its cobblestones slippery and infested with large, croaking toads. The people of the city were inside of their flimsy homes, gathered around the fire to warm up as the temperature lowered with aid of the howling winds outside. Everyone was inside, and only the stray dogs and cats were left to face the storm without at home.

In the small cottage on the edge of the city, close to the forest, lived a young boy with rich brown hair and pale fair skin. He was banished from the kingdom because his mother was an adulterer, and he was born as a bastard child of a rich laywer who had another family. His mother executed at his birth by the lawyer's family, and he was put in an orphanage until he reached the age of sixteen, when he was to be expelled from the kingdom. 

Lee Taemin was sewing up his brown woolen tunic, torn at the sleeve due to his own foolishness while gathering firewood, when frantic knocking was heard amidst the pelting of rain on the roof of his small cottage. He wondered if it was the blind old man in the next house about a kilometer away. 

He put the tunic and the needle on the dusty wooden floor before quickly making his way to the door. The old man wouldn't have walked all the way to his house if it wasn't something dire.

Opening the flimsy wooden door of his home, Taemin was more than surprised when a man, wearing nobles' clothes and armor with an arrow embedded in his shoulder, stumbled in without his consent.

"Wh-who are you?!" Taemin squeaked, backing away from the stranger that had fallen to his floor. The man was groaning in pain, drenched in rain, with the blood on his shoulder spreading through his white clothes. 

The stranger rolled over with a great deal of effort, so that he was on his back. Taemin saw clearly that the arrow had punctured the man's left shoulder, just inches away from his heart. The man howled in pain when the movement caused the arrow to shift inside of him.

"H-help me," the man pleaded, his half-lidded eyes gazing at Taemin, one hand reaching towards him. "Please."

Taemin was in panic; this was the first time he saw someone from the kingdom since he left it. Who was this man? Was he a knight from the palace? 

No, it couldn't be. Knights nor missionaries were not allowed to enter their city boundaries. The place was sealed off from everyone else in the kingdom, only a myth for the children and a silent truth for the adults. It was a place where 'abnormal' people were imprisoned in.

The man shouldn't be here, much less his cottage. He wasn't 'abnormal', as far as Taemin could see.

Nevertheless, Taemin took pity on him and finally pushed himself away from the wall. Cautiously kneeling down next to the stranger, he stared at the latter's face that was currently contorted into an expression of pain.

Taemin realized that the man was handsome, much like a noble would be. He wondered if the man was of noble blood.

A prince, maybe.

He shook his head, clearing himself of the ridiculous thoughts. Of course, a prince wouldn't just stumble into the forbidden city. A prince would have someone, a doctor maybe, to nurse him. Perhaps this was just a palace knight who had been wounded in battle.

With quick movements, Taemin ladled some hot water into a wooden bowl and took a small cloth from his belongings. He kneeled next to the man again, and with the gentlest hands, he took off the armor and clothes off the man's torso. This exposed the muscled chest and arms, and Taemin had to admire him for a second or two.

Never did he see anyone so handsome before. In the place he lived in, everyone had some defect that hindered them from beauty.

The man passed out just as the young boy started cleaning the wound. Taemin took this opportunity to pull out the arrow, breaking both ends of it before gently slipping it from the man's meat. Fresh blood trickled from the wound, and the boy was quick to press the cloth onto it to stop its flow. 

He had done the same thing to a wounded farm horse before, when it had almost been stolen by bandits. He just hoped that the man was strong enough to survive, just like the animal did.

Taemin retrieved a roll of bandage and a few medicinal leaves from his small cupboard. He was reserving them for his own use, but he knew the man needed it more than him. Kneeling back down with the wounded stranger, he placed the medicinal leaves on the wound and wrapped the bandage around the man's torso. In his sleep, the latter flinched a little.

Taemin used a great deal of his close to nonexistent strength to pull the man to his pile of old cloths. With a mound of hay underneath, it served as a less than comfortable bed. Taemin laid the stranger on his bed, then covered him with a thick blanket. The night was cold, after all. 

The boy was still wondering who this man was, and how did he find himself in the city of the banished, as he settled himself into one corner of the cottage. He wondered if the man was banished, too, and he was shot with an arrow because he tried to go back.

Maybe the man was a noble that had become a bandit, or maybe he had gone deaf. Taemin felt kind of sorry for the man if that was the case; he was so handsome, he could be a prince.

His wild thoughts aided him to the path of unconsciouss bliss, and Taemin fell asleep soon after the rain stopped.

When morning came, the sun still wasn't shining. The clouds remained gray and heavy as it was on the previous day. Taemin awoke and found the stranger still sleeping under the blanket, and he took the opportunity to gather food for him. 

The young boy took a wooden bowl and gathered a few berries from the bush nearby. Then, taking a few coins from his pocket, he bought a loaf of bread from the market in town. The old maid that sold it gave him another loaf for free, just because 'he was the prettiest boy around.' Taemin happily took the food back to his home on the edge of the small city.

When he returned, the man was awake, but he could not get up. Taemin placed the food beside the bed and reached to touch the man's forehead. 

"You're burning," Taemin gasped.

The stranger looked up at him with weak, half-lidded eyes. He looked confused as to where he was for a moment.

"What's your name?" the man croaked. 

The deep voice startled Taemin, the sound of a voice so rich sounding foreign to him. 

"T-Taemin," he stammered.

The man smiled; a weak upturn of his lips, and reached from under the blanket to hold the boy's hand.

"Taemin, my name is Minho," he said, voice just above a whisper. "I thank you for saving me, from the bottom of my heart."

Taemin blushed at the contact of their hands, for never was he touched there before.

"I could not let you die," he said softly, glancing back up at the stranger's eyes.

"I am still very grateful," said Minho. "I owe you my life, Taemin."

Taemin only nodded, not knowing how to respond. He saved a man's life, but he felt that it was no big deal. Everyone was obligated to do what he did, weren't they?

He reached for the bowl of berries and bread and offered it to the man. "Here, I got you some food. You're sick, you need to regain your strength."

Minho tried to sit up, but the lingering pain and weakness of his body made it real difficult. When Taemin noticed this, he was gracious to help the man up, letting him sit on the bed with his back against the wall behind him. 

Taemin offered him the food, which the man took gratefully. He hadn't eaten in two days, he told the boy. 

"Here, have some," Minho said, a hand offering the bowl to his savior. 

Taemin took the other loaf of bread, the one that the vendor gave him for free, and nibbled on it, a small smile making its way on his face. It had been so long since he ate with someone else; the memory was as faded as the picture of his mother that he was given at the orphanage.

"We have been ambushed by these bandits in the forest, my men and I," Minho started, making the boy look at him with wide, doe yes. "They took the carriage and everything in it, then they killed my men. We were too few and they were armed to the teeth. I barely escaped from them, riding my horse until I thought I was safe.

I thought I was going to die," Minho said, his eyes calm and gentle as he looked at the boy. "I barely remember getting here last night, but I do remember your face."

Taemin nodded slowly, his smile growing wider. 

"I dreamt of you, how beautiful you were," Minho said with a light chuckle. "I thought you were just a dream, but here you are, being so kind to a stranger like me."

The boy's cheeks alit with embarassment. He had never been called beautiful by another man, especially by a handsome one. The ladies of the city told him that he was pretty, and the old men sometimes commented that he looked handsome enough to be a husband someday. 

Taemin didn't answer. He continued eating his bread until the man spoke again.

"Why are you here, Taemin?" 

The owner of the name looked up at him, his expression growing forlorn. "I was born out of wedlock, my mother was said to be an adulterer, and my father had her executed to save his reputation," he replied in a solemn voice. "They banished me from the kingdom as soon as I turned sixteen."

It was difficult to admit it when he was a child, but since he had been banished from the kingdom, Taemin was more comfortable with telling his story. The people in the city understood, after all, and they had no reason to judge him. 

This man, to Taemin, looked trustworthy enough.

"What a pity," Minho shook his head, looking seriously affected by it, much to Taemin's surprise. "I would never have anyone banished again when I take over the kingdom."

The chewing stopped, Taemin looked confused. "What do you mean?"

A small smile took over the man's handsome features, and he put down his meal before speaking again. 

"I am the prince, Taemin," Minho said. "The heir of King Minhyuk."