“I’m home!” Changmin announced, as he walked past the main entrance of the palace, and into the dining hall. A moment later he backtracked, coming to a stop in front of Junsu and Yoochun, who were engaged in another massage session right in the middle of the wide, grand space.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Giving Junsu a shoulder massage,” Yoochun replied, staring at his husband with starry eyes. “Isn’t he amazing?”

“…Hyung said dinner’s getting cold,” Changmin replied, deciding not to comment on how pathetically pathetic Yoochun sounded right now (then again, his brother-in-law almost always sounded like that, so what was the point in mentioning it?).

“Your’s is,” Junsu replied dismissively. Seeing Changmin’s confused expression, he rolled his eyes. “What, do you think we waited for you?” Leaning back, he let out a contented sigh. “Oh Chunnie, you are so amazing…”

Yoochun smiled, his gaze oozing with more sap than a tree. “Would you like me to sing — ”

“Love in the Ice?” Junsu finished, his eyes shining. “Oh yes.”

“I got rid of the angel,” Changmin interrupted hastily, hoping to cut them off before they started another rendition of that accursed song (which he would never admit to actually liking, because that — well, that would not end well).

“…What angel?”

Changmin felt his jaw clench. “Yoochun…”

“Shut up Minnie,” Junsu snapped, glaring. “It was an accident. Now be the good little brother that I know you aren’t, but can be if you actually tried, and go eat your dinner.”

Changmin’s eye twitched. “You are such a Junsu,” he muttered.

Yoochun frowned. “Now Changmin,” he chastened, “there is only one word starting with B that can be used to describe Junsu — and that word is beautiful.”

Junsu giggled, his eyes shining.

“…Of sweet ing Devil,” Changmin groaned, taking a step backwards. “Yoochun, how the hell were you ever a revolutionary?”

“Sometimes I wonder that myself,” Yoochun agreed. “I look at this beautiful creature and — well, how could I ever have resented the monarchy when they produce gorgeous beings like my sweet, gorgeous, fabulous, perfect — ”

Changmin backed away, his eyes wide. “Yeah, okay,” he said hurriedly, “I’m going to leave — ”

“ — stunning, godly — ”

Changmin dashed into the dining room, slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary. “Whipped motherer,” he muttered, shuddering.

He walked over to the long, grand table in the centre of the room. The dining room, devoid of all life — other than himself — seemed larger, and quieter, than usual. Rather than being bothered by this, Changmin barely restrained himself from letting out a sigh of relief. Finally, peace and quiet — two things which should not have been this hard to obtain.

Changmin walked over, and groaned as he caught sight of the plate on the table, filled to the brim with vegetables. A note from Yunho — “eat your greens or Umma will kill me” — made the situation considerably worse than it already was.

Changmin threw himself into a chair, and stared mournfully at the dish. A good meal, with a few less vegetables — that’s all that he asked for. Or, at the very least, just one item that wasn’t green (or orange, because carrots weren’t much better). Of course, that wasn’t likely to happen as long as his mother continued to curse Hell with her damned existence. The Queen Dowager was a maniac and was currently exploring the land, trying to overcome her supposed grief at her husband’s death. The women was fooling no one, Changmin thought, with barley concealed scorn (and he’d blame his hunger for any disrespect); her last letter had been six pages long, denying any involvement in the ‘Dowager Queen Sleeps With Footman!’ scandal that had made the front page of several papers in recent months.

All of that, however, was besides the point. Basically, what the Queen Dowager wanted, the Queen Dowager got — and right now, she demanded that her “oldest baby” make sure her “youngest baby” eat his greens; and said “oldest baby” would sooner feed himself to a hellhound than disobey the former Queen’s request (she hadn’t obtained the blunt nickname of “Psychopath” for nothing).

Changmin was pouting, aimlessly stabbing at a pea with his fork, when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” he said, his gaze unmoving from the plate. His eyes flickered up at the sound of a familiar, “your Highness?”, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yes Shindong, you can have my vegetables,” he said, pushing the plate forward. “But hurry, before hyung sees you — ”

“Er, no, your Highness,” the servant coughed, flushing in embarrassment, “that’s not what I’m here for. You, uh, have a guest to see you. He claims to be your…er…”

“Oh come on, spit it out,” Changmin urged.

“Your buddy.”

It wasn’t Shindong who had spoken. Changmin’s eyes widened, and he felt the colour drain out of his face.

“Kyuhyun?!” he spluttered.

The angel smirked, looking incredibly satisfied with himself. “I told you he knew me,” he bragged, directing the statement at the startled servant. “And you wanted the guards to arrest me at the doorway…”

Changmin could only sit still, gaping at the angel. Kyuhyun wore a pair of fake horns — if they could even be called that — made out of twigs, and a large stick was jutting out of his behind (which Changmin assumed was supposed to be a tail). He wondered briefly how anyone could have fallen for that poor excuse of a costume, but then remembered that the majority of the occupants of the palace were complete imbeciles.

“So he is your ‘ buddy’ then…” Shindong murmured, before realising (if his horrified expression was any indication) that he had spoken aloud.

“No Shindong!” Changmin snapped. He clenched his fists, forcing him to breathe steadily, and to stay calm. Freaking out would only draw attention, and that was the last thing he wanted. “He’s — he’s a friend,” he finally managed to say, before standing up and walking over to the servant. Leaning in close, he murmured, “he’s a crazy guy I met in town and took pity on — the people at the asylum told me he needs to get out more.”

Shindong nodded. “His Highness is very kind.”

“I know I am,” Changmin replied, nodding.

There was a brief pause.

“…Uh, you can go now,” Changmin coughed.

“Yes, your Highness,” Shindong replied. His eyes narrowed on the plate of vegetables, and he swallowed. “That, uh, is a very lovely plate of — ”

“You can have it Shindong.”

The servant beamed, looking like he had just won the lottery. “Yes, your Highness is very kind!” he said enthusiastically, before grabbing the plate and hurrying out, leaving Changmin alone with his angel tormentor.

“Your Highness?” Kyuhyun raised an eyebrow.

Changmin swallowed. “Uh,” he said, “well…I might have left out the fact that the King is my older brother.”

“Oh…so you’re not a knight?” Kyuhyun asked, frowning slightly.

“…No.”

There was a slight pause. Changmin shuffled from foot to foot, wondering why Kyuhyun’s contemplative expression bothered him so much.

“…Well that is ing awesome!” Changmin jumped in alarm at Kyuhyun’s enthused exclamation. The angel threw himself into a nearby chair, his eyes wide. “I can tell people I had with a prince!” the angel laughed, clapping his hands together in glee.

“Wait, no, hold on!” Changmin spluttered. “There was no !”

Kyuhyun smirked. “Well not yet.”

“Who is that?”

Changmin jumped again, barely holding back a scream of frustration as he realised who had just entered the room. Jaejoong — the last person you wanted snooping around when you had a secret to hide.

“Oh!” Kyuhyun cried, lurching forward. “Are you the King?”

“No…well, yes, but no…I’m King Yunho’s husband.” Jaejoong cocked his head to the side, and his eyes flickered to Kyuhyun’s ‘horns’. His eyes widened in shock. “Sweet Devil,” he murmured, “what happened to them?!”

“I was in an accident,” Kyuhyun replied, pouting. “They were never quite the same.”

Jaejoong clapped his hands together, his eyes shining with emotion. “Oh, you poor thing!” he exclaimed. He turned to Changmin, and his eyes narrowed in classic “I-demand-that-you-do-what-I-tell-you-to-or-I-will--slap-you” Jaejoong-style.

“Minnie, who’s your friend?” he demanded, placing his hands on his hips. “Introduce us!”

Kyuhyun beamed. “I’m his — ”

“ — friend! This is my friend, Kyuhyun.” Changmin sat down next to Kyuhyun, trying to keep his fists at his sides, and away from the angel’s face. “He’s just stopped by to say hello, since he was on his way out of town.”

“Actually I was on my way out of town, but my carriage broke down,” Kyuhyun interjected, a pleasant smile on his face. “I wanted to ask Changmin — my dear friend — if I could stay here the night.” With a subdued expression, he softly added, “if it’s not too much trouble that is.”

Jaejoong’s eyes widened “Oh, of course!” he gushed. Turning around, he hurried out of the room, yelling, “Yunnie! Yunnie! Minnie has a friend that’s not that bug-eyed creep Minho!”

The door slammed in his wake.

Changmin clenched his fists, forcing himself to remain calm. Freaking out would do no one good. No — that would just give the angel more time to plot his next move.

“You’re staying here?” he asked, his voice low.

“You told me I could stay in Hell a bit longer,” Kyuhyun pointed out.

“An hour longer maybe!” Changmin snapped, his eyes flashing. “You have to go home now!”

“Can you kiss me again?” Kyuhyun questioned, leaning close.

Changmin froze, his eyes flying to the doorway.

“Oh calm down, no one’s there,” Kyuhyun sighed. He reached out, his hands latching onto Changmin’s collar. He leaned in close. “Please?” he murmured. “You were doing it in the forest, and you seemed to enjoy it — even if it was pretty damn quick.”

“Where are your wings?” Changmin asked, ignoring his question (and hoping that his cheeks weren't as red as they felt).

“I shoved them under my shirt,” Kyuhyun replied. He turned around slightly, and Changmin’s eyes widened as he caught sight of the large lump on the angel’s back.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt,” Kyuhyun said, his lips curving into a smirk. “And I can use it to my advantage for the ‘accident’ story.”

Changmin sighed, leaning back in his chair. Maybe Yunho would say that Kyuhyun couldn’t stay at the palace, and would send the angel on his way. Changmin sighed, dismissing this idea shortly after; Kyuhyun had snagged Jaejoong in his net, and if he had Jaejoong, then it wasn’t humanly possible for him to not have Yunho.

It looked like, for the time-being, there was no getting rid of Kyuhyun.