“So how did you get away from Mr. Shin?” Junmyeon asked with a little laugh. It was midafternoon, quite nice out, and he and Baekhyun were hiding out in the garden.

Baekhyun rolled his eyes with a little smile. “I’ve learned that I can throw around little threats to get whatever I want here. If I mutter under my breath how things will change once I’m head of the house, Mr. Shin gets really white-faced and pretty much lets me do whatever I want.”

Junmyeon laughed appreciatively. “Learning quickly, I see.”

“You have to in order to survive around this place,” Baekhyun grumbled. “Am I horrible person for wishing Madame would kick the bucket already?”

“Well, you won’t be the only one secretly wishing for it,” Junmyeon admitted. “And it’s a wonder she’s lasted this long you know. Even if it’s just through marriage, she’s still a part of the Kim family and nobody in this family lives long.”

Baekhyun cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

Junmyeon went quite red in the face, as if he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to, but he was saved from having to answer by the arrival of two of their cousins.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

It was Minseok and Jongdae, their cousins. They were both dressed to the nines despite the humidity of the afternoon, and both were wearing nearly identical condescending expressions.

Junmyeon went silent, staring down at his shoes. Baekhyun got the feeling that these two enjoyed picking on Junmyeon – who was considered practically nothing in the family due to his mother’s desertion – quite often. He hadn’t said more than two words to them thus far, but already he didn’t like them.

“Looking to further yourself by getting in good with the new head of the family?” Jongdae sneered, lip cocking up in a nasty sort of smile.

Junmyeon didn’t answer, just continued to stare down at his shoes with a blank expression, as if he was trying to block his cousin’s words out.

“Hey, leave him alone,” Baekhyun found himself saying. “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“He’s wrong for even being born,” the other cousin, Minseok, spat. Unlike Jongdae, who seemed to be taking pleasure in the torment, Minseok just seemed angry. “Him and you both. We’d all be better off if your mothers hadn’t gone off and gotten knocked up.”

Baekhyun was on his feet in an instant, hands automatically balling into fists. “My mother wasn’t a ,” he snarled.

Junmyeon grabbed his arm. “Don’t, Baek,” he practically begged.

“Yeah, don’t,” Jongdae mimicked in a high-pitched voice that was clearly supposed to be an imitation of Junmyeon. Then he burst out laughing at his own imitation.

Minseok wasn’t laughing, however. He was glaring at Baekhyun with a great deal of hatred. “Your mother was a filthy ,” he repeated, a harsh glint in his eye. “Everyone knows it. She tried to hide it by marrying some nobody, but we all know what she really was. And we all know what that makes you. You’re a bastard.”

Baekhyun’s fist flew before he could even process what was happening. The second before his fist made contact with Minseok’s jaw, Junmyeon jumped in front of him, and he ended up punching one of his only friends in the shoulder.

“Junmyeon!” Baekhyun exclaimed, rushing to help his cousin while Minseok and Jongdae sauntered off, laughing to themselves, talking about how common Baekhyun was. “Are you okay? Why on earth did you do that? I didn’t mean to hit you!”

Junmyeon winced, rubbing his shoulder where he’d taken the hit. “You can’t go around starting fights, Baek,” he said. “That is probably the worst thing you could do, you know. I just saved you a whole lot of hell.”

Baekhyun blushed sheepishly. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “Let’s get back to the house. We need to get some ice on your shoulder.”

Yixing was in his suite when he returned that evening, hanging even more new clothes up in the elegant armoire in the bedroom. Baekhyun groaned audibly and sank into one of the chairs, desperately wishing for a brandy or something.

Yixing looked up at him with a little smirk that made his dimple on one side pop out. “Rough day?”

“You could say that,” Baekhyun muttered. “I punched Junmyeon.”

Yixing really was startled at that. “You did what? Why?”

“Well I didn’t do it on purpose,” Baekhyun grumbled. “I was trying to punch Minseok, and Junmyeon got in the way.”

Yixing put his hands on his hips, giving Baekhyun a flat look. “And just why were you trying to punch Minseok? You know that’s not very smart of you, right?”

Baekhyun groaned again. “Yeah, I got that. He’s just such an , you know? He kept calling my mother a and insulting my father and it just pissed me off so much.”

“Yeah, well his specialty is getting under people’s skin to piss them off,” Yixing advised. “Just ignore him.”

“I’ll try,” Baekhyun said. “But he really seems to hate me. Like, more than everyone else hates me, I mean. Did I do something to offend him or something?”

Yixing shrugged. “You were born.”

“Yeah, thanks for enlightening me,” Baekhyun muttered sarcastically.

Yixing chuckled. “He’s the eldest cousin, you see,” he explained. “If you mother had never had a child, he would be the next in line to become head of the family. If you didn’t exist, he would be one of the most powerful men in the world. He resents you.”

Rather than helping him understand, this information only caused alarm for Baekhyun. “You don’t think he’ll kill me, do you? Or hire somebody to kill me? People do that in television shows, right? Oh god, is he going to hire a hit man?”

Yixing pursed his lips thoughtfully – which certainly did not make Baekhyun feel any better. “I don’t think he’d go that far unless you did something to piss him off on a more personal level. You should cut the guy some slack. He’s been through a lot, you know.”

Baekhyun scoffed, draping himself over the chair he was perched in. “Like what? They were out of his brand of cologne and he had to special order it from Italy?”

Yixing gave him a flat look. “Pettiness does not become you, Baekhyun.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “But what on earth could a spoiled rich brat like him have gone through?”

Yixing sighed. “I’m not supposed to tell you this, of course, but Minseok’s mother committed suicide.”

Baekhyun was shocked into silence at that. “I-I didn’t know…” He tried to remember back to the family tree. He had noticed that Minseok’s mother had died young, before she was thirty, but there had been no mention of how she died on the family tree.

“It was a pretty nasty affair,” Yixing admitted, going back to hanging up clothes. “She was such a pretty woman, you know. Minseok was only five when it happened. She hung herself in the closet, and he was the one who found her. Pretty traumatic. It was long before I came here, of course, but people talk.”

Baekhyun couldn’t say anything for a moment. He’d thought that he had been pretty unfortunate in having lost both his parents in a car accident; he couldn’t even begin to imagine how a five year old child must feel finding their mother like that.

He swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Was she…mentally ill?”

“That’s what they say,” Yixing replied. “But like I said, this was before my time here. I’m just going by what I hear. And you should get changed for dinner, you know. You’re going to be late if you just dawdle.”

“Am I eating with the family tonight?” Baekhyun asked, and it horrified him to hear the hopeful note in his own voice. Ever since the family dinner debacle, Madame had forbidden him from joining the rest of the family in the main dining hall. Instead, he took his meals with Mr. Shin, who would continuously instruct him on the proper way to handle himself during such times.

Yixing gave him a wry smile. “Not yet. Mr. Shin still doesn’t feel as though your manners are up to par.”

“Given his way, I’ll never eat in the dining hall again,” Baekhyun muttered glumly, changing clothes nonetheless.

Yixing quirked an eyebrow at him. “You actually want to eat dinner with Madame and all those hounds thirsting for your blood?”

“Well, no, not really,” Baekhyun admitted. “But I feel like anything would be better than sitting through another of Mr. Shin’s lectures about which fork to use for what.”

Yixing chuckled, holding up a jacket for Baekhyun to shrug into. “You’ll get it soon enough.”