“You didn’t,” was Sehun’s first reply when he saw Kyungsoo walking across the clearing. Pushing a hanging branch out of his way, he stormed forward, grabbing the collar of the smaller man’s shirt. “Tell me that you ing didn’t.”

Kyungsoo blinked, briefly looking down at his friends balled fist before waving his hand. In a moment, the same tree branch that Sehun had so carelessly brushed aside, stretched and curled around the teenager’s waist, yanking him away from his friend before suspending him at least five feet off the ground.

“Hey!” Sehun screamed, kicking his legs in a pathetically desperate attempt to free himself from the branch’s tight grip. “Damn it, Kyungsoo!” Kyungsoo’s eyes narrowed and his fingers curled at his side - Sehun instantaneously making a choking sound deep in his throat as the force around him tightened. “Hyung,” he wheezed, face turning an unattractive shade of red as his lungs were denied oxygen. Kyungsoo began walking past him, glancing up at him briefly with an expression of indifference. Flesh turning purple, Sehun’s eyes began to water. “P-Please,” he managed in a strangled whisper.

Kyungsoo closed his eyes, releasing a short sigh. Behind him was a yelp as Sehun landed on his hands and knees, coughing and gasping in the sweet air he had been rejected. “You…” he started, scrambling to get on his feet again. “You really have an anger problem.”

Kyungsoo scoffed, lifting his hand once and sending the boy staggering away from him in fear. An amused smile playing at the older man’s lips, his hand dropped to his side once again. “And you have no respect for your elders.” Kyungsoo glanced at the eighteen year-old out of the corner of his eye. “Anyway, it wasn’t like you would have died. You could have easily gotten yourself out of that position - or,” a taunting edge landed in his voice, “are you still on a no-magic diet?”

The corner of Sehun’s lips twitched at the tease, and Kyungsoo was pleased to feel a gust of wind lift his bangs away from his forehead. “Don’t say it like that. It’s my own choice.”

“It’s a stupid choice,” Kyungsoo spat, turning when Sehun stopped walking next to him. “I’m not sorry. It is.” To prove his point, Kyungsoo lifted his hand. Sehun immediately shielded himself with his own in order to protect himself in case another tree decided to give him a hug. Instead, a number of leaves formed a small cyclone before him.

The red, yellow, orange and brown blurred together - creating a beautiful autumn twister that even Sehun couldn’t help but to admire. Fingers wriggling, the leaves began to dance, creating a beautiful masterpiece just above the teenage boy’s head. Sehun watched in awe, lips forming a smile against his will. Finally, with a smirk, Kyungsoo dropped his hands, the leaves falling around Sehun with such force that they knocked him to the ground, falling over him in a large pile. It was a minute or two and Sehun hadn’t emerged from the leaf mountain, and Kyungsoo frowned, stepping forward. The boy couldn’t possibly have been hurt by a couple of leaves, right? “Sehun?” Kyungsoo started, concern seeping into his voice when he received no response. After a moment, a familiar face popped up, and Kyungsoo let out a sigh of relief when the teenager let out his signature, annoying cackle, tossing the leaves around him up like a small child.

Kyungsoo watched him with a warm gaze - a rare sight. “You were born with a gift, Sehun.” He said softly. “A beautiful gift. I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to use it.”

Sehun’s laughter died down and he hummed, lifting up one of the leaves to look at it closely. His eyes traveled over it’s uneven, jagged edges with interest. Gaze lifting, Sehun’s dark eyes landed on Kyungsoo’s pale neck. There was a small, red outline where a rope had once dug into his skin. The sight was disturbing for Sehun - sickening even. He had always looked up to Kyungsoo like an older brother, even in the darkest of times, and the thought of him being injured in such a way made him cringe. Kyungsoo seemed to notice the boy’s quick change in demeanor, and his thick brows drew together in a perplexed manner. Before the elder could inquire as to what was troubling the boy, a gust of wind lifted the leaves away from his body so he could stand properly. “I would have thought,” Sehun began quietly, “that you of all people would understand.”

Kyungsoo’s heart dropped into his stomach, and the air became cold. Sehun soon realized the effect of his words and how they had been perceived. However, he soon found that it was far too late to take it back, as Kyungsoo strode past him, entering the clearing once more. “I’m leaving,” he stated when Sehun opened his mouth to speak, and the younger quickly pressed his lips together.

Watching helplessly, Sehun noticed that each leaf - whether it be on the trees or the ground - crumpled and turned a sickening shade of grey as Kyungsoo passed it. Hanging his head and cursing himself under his breath, the boy picked one from the ground, watching with sad eyes as it disintegrated in his palm. The damage had already been done.

Eseul watched with tired eyes as the dresses were displayed for her. The ball was not for another two months - what was the point of choosing one now? She had always been someone who procrastinated, and she didn’t understand why something like this would call for a different approach.

“What about this?”

Eseul stifled a yawn as she looked up at the dress before her. It was a light shade of sky blue and did not hold the frills and ruffles that she had so detested on the other gowns. She lifted a brow and finally nodded her head. “That’ll do.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. The gown was completely different than the others she had seen - in fact, she wasn’t quite sure where it had come from. “Ami, where did you get that?” she inquired of the young maid girl who had been left with the task of showing her the different dresses.

“Where do you think?” another voice popped up, and Eseul couldn’t help but grin as she rolled off her bed, running and throwing her arms around the male figure that had appeared in the doorway. “Aw,” came the amused response from the man, who returned the hug warmly. “Did’ja miss me?”

“Of course not,” Eseul deadpanned, though a bright grin rested on her rosy lips. The facade quickly fell as she pulled the thin male into a hug once more, muttering against his shirt. “I thought you weren’t due back for another week. You were visiting your family, weren’t you?”

“I was bored,” came the reply, and lithe fingers went to comb through her hair. “Ugh, so clingy,” he groaned, though the both of them knew his words were merely teasing. “You would think that we were engaged to be married.”

At this, Eseul immediately pulled away, face twisted into a grimace. “That’s utterly revolting - You know, I should have you beheaded, Lu Han.”

Lu Han’s face immediately lit up and he hummed, making his way over to the girl’s bed and making himself comfortable atop the soft bedding. “You wouldn’t dare - you love me too much. Besides, is there a better stylist in the country?” He paused for a second before continuing, not leaving her with proper time to respond. “No. No there is not.”

“You’re a foreigner.” Eseul pointed out, examining her nails indifferently when Lu Han scowled in her direction. “I don’t see why I couldn’t go to your home country and find someone just as talented - if not more so.”

Lu Han pursed his lips and propped himself up on his elbows. “You love me too much. Final argument.”

Eseul opened , hoping to come up with a witty response, but failed to come up with anything worthy of saying. Whether she cared to admit it or not - Lu Han was absolutely right. They had known each other for years, after Lu Han’s mother had been appointed as the Queen’s personal tailor and stylist when Eseul was only three. Lu Han had been 2 years older than her, and still Eseul seemed to act as the older sibling until they became teenagers. At that point, Lu Han not only took on the role of her stylist, but soon became the older brother that she had never been blessed with by blood. He was protective, and she relied on him for more things than she cared to admit. She wasn’t sure what she’d do without him - but she certainly wouldn’t marry him.

Noticing the soft expression she wore on her face, Lu Han seemed pleased to know that his argument had won over. “Well, if I’m not your soulmate, then I suppose you’ll have to find one at the ball.” He stood up, grabbing the blue dress that the maid had carelessly left on Eseul’s desk. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he motioned for his friend to go over to the full-length mirror. Stepping behind her, he held it up so she could gather some idea of what it would look like on her. “My mother made it,” he murmured against her cheek. “She said that it was something that your mother would have worn.”

That statement brought a small smile to Eseul’s face, though she tried to hide it behind the blue fabric of the dress. “Your mother is extremely talented…” she began, fingers traveling over the cloth gently. Glancing up into the mirror, she noticed that Lu Han looked rather pleased with her reaction and, of course, she couldn’t have him being smug. “It’s really too bad that you didn’t inherit her skills.” A smirk playing at her lips, she pushed the dress back into his hands, making her way to her bed and crawling to the center of it.

Lu Han, amused by her desperate attempt to offend him, sat the dress down on the table before coming to sit on the edge of his friend’s bed. “Okay, okay, in all seriousness…” he cleared his throat. “You do realize that this ball is solely intended for you to find a husband, right?”

Eseul frowned, running her tongue over her lips and occupying herself with the hem of her skirt. She knew that her father wanted her to find a husband so she could take over when it came time - but she had no interest in doing so. If she was to be a ruler, she believed that she could easily handle it on her own. Her father was not so keen on the idea - often setting up a number of blind dates, or unexpected dinner parties in the hopes that Eseul would take interest in one of the many boring men that he had found for her. As she grew older, her father seemed to only grow more and more desperate - especially after the passing of her mother only two years beforehand. Now, it seemed that the king was having trouble ruling alone, and he believed that his daughter would be no different - a partner was deemed necessary for the task.

“I’ll have to talk to him about it,” was her reply as she fell onto the pillows, raven locks spilling around her.

Lu Han arched a brow. “You really think that he’s going to let you manipulate him to get out of it? He’s insistent that you get married. You’re turning twenty-one soon. This is the golden time for you. This is your - You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”

Eseul propped herself onto her elbows with an innocent expression. “I’m sorry, Lu, did you say something?” Lu Han responded with a curse and Eseul threw one of the large pillows she had been resting on at his head. Ignoring her best friend’s glare, she hummed and leaned back again, this time focusing on the painted ceiling above her head. Cheerful angels and cherubs laughed above her, and she did her best to relax under their bright beams. “He’ll listen to me - I know he will. Besides, I’m a princess.” She chuckled, accurately envisioning the disgusted look that was on Lu Han’s handsome features at her boasting.

“I always get what I want.”