Fourth Crown

Allez tous vous faire foutre, bande de vieilles commères: Go to hell, you bunch of gossips Un vrai tombeur, voilà ce que je suis !: A real lady-killer, that's what I am! Que diable !: What the devil! Vieillard: old man

Frowning, Hyukjae sends a cautious glance in the Crown Prince’s direction as they idly stroll around the vast gardens of his castle. He peers at his handsome profile and then at his sparkly tanzanite gemstone, which has been delicately fitted in the middle of his collar, such as his own red diamond; they both shine a little under the dimming sunlight, glowing beautifully on this end of the afternoon. But, as much as he tries to ignore it, the young man quickly realizes he can’t seem to be able of focusing on anything else but the prying eyes of his guests behind them, and soon finds a growing feeling of frustration creep on his skin as he glares at them from the corners of his eyes.

Allez tous vous faire foutre, bande de vieilles commères, he sniffs unhappily and then tries hard to ignore his discomfort, tilting his head around to catch a quick glimpse of the Crown Prince once again.

They are walking side by side along a slow cadence that supposedly allows them to enjoy their time together – oddly enough, he doesn’t really have the heart at that –, the distance between them small enough to be considered as intimate, but still ‘as strict and proper as it is to be kept between two newly engaged Sweethearts’. Followed by their respective tutors, they keep on walking down the main path leading to the other end of the gardens as he halfheartedly shows him around the lands, although he honestly doesn’t know them all that well – Kangin probably glared at him a good dozen times whenever he started babbling and making things up about the history of his House. Awkwardness is still thick around the young man and he finds himself tripping on his own feet a few times, and, really, he can only be glad he hasn’t fallen face first onto the ground yet.

Next to him, the Crown Prince keeps mostly quiet and only makes a few, quiet comments, hands elegantly clasped in front of his blue robes. Standing as straight as an arrow, he’s holding his chin high in the air and does his best to look as grand and imposing as he can in the middle of a less magnificent château than his own, but it’s easy for Hyukjae to notice the small hints of uncertainty and awkwardness that sometimes flashes across his chocolate orbs. He gives him pretty smiles and small chuckles whenever he spouts a joke or says something stupid – which happens a whole lot more than what he would have liked –, before hastily composing himself again and making sure nobody has seen him.

It’s kind of cute, the young man has to admit, though in a very, very odd way. He’s not sure it’s even allowed to think of the Crown Prince as cute at all, considering what he knows of the Solemnée Kingdom – there might be tomes and tomes written about the proper customs of how to qualify a member of the Royal House.

 

“And, uh –” he awkwardly clears his throat when they stop in front of the elephant-dog statue. “This is… uh – a very… nice sculpture?”

 

The other man raises a doubtful eyebrow as he suspiciously eyes the thing. He sends him a careful look, and then says, “It’s rather… odd.”

 

“It’s properly horrible,” Hyukjae agrees with a firm nod. “I’ll have that thing burned and smashed destroyed as soon as I inherit the property, don’t you worry about it.”

 

A clear laugh loudly flows out of the Crown Prince’s thin lips, and airily rises in the air, prompting Hyukjae to stop in his tracks, all so he can focus on the pretty sounds. But, before he can catch the way his face cutely scrunches up when he giggles freely, the other blushes and awkwardly coughs in the sleeves of his long robes. He looks away and hastily puts his façade back up on his smooth features, mumbling an incoherent apology under his breath.

And, really – Hyukjae can’t help but find him awfully cute once again.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Kyuhyun comfortably sits back into his armchair and follows the two men around the gardens with curious eyes, nonchalantly sipping on his sweet drink. Settled on the patio, he snickers a little when his older brother clumsily trips on his own feet once again and receives an exasperated glare from his private tutor.

A crowd of courtiers has gathered behind the two newly engaged Sweethearts and diligently follows them around the lands, most probably to eavesdrop as much as possible. Only Kangin and who he supposes to be Leeteuk, the Crown Prince’s own tutor, are allowed close to the two men however, in order to prevent any awkward or inappropriate situations that might occur between them.

Like ing behind a bush, I suppose, the young man snorts under his breath. He’s only very, very thankful that he isn’t in his brother’s smelly shoes.

Though he really wouldn’t have missed such a delectable show for nothing in the world either.

 

“How long has it been since the Crown Prince arrived?” Kyuhyun then asks his own tutor, turning to face him.

 

Seated next to him, Sungmin tilts his head around and glances at the second hourglass of the First Ceremony. It has been placed next to the first one ever since the Crown Prince stepped into their lands, blue sand flowing down to count the time he has been staying there for so far.

 

“Only about thirty-five minutes,” the older man replies to him. “Things seem to be going well.”

 

In front of them, Hyukjae almost trips into a pond – but Kangin is quick enough to pull him back before he can fall face first into it.

 

“Yeah,” the younger brother snickers into his glass, earning an amused look from his own tutor. “Sure they are.”

 

His life must be really hard indeed, the poor old man, Kyuhyun thinks mockingly. Must be karma’s will.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

“Maybe we should sit down for a bit?” Hyukjae proposes when he spots a stone bench out of the corners of his eyes. Then, adds hastily, “Your Royal Highness.”

 

Meeting his gaze for a fraction of second, the Crown Prince gives him a bashful smile and elegantly tilts his head down in agreement. A couple of brown locks fall across his forehead, before he quickly brushes them off and adverts his eyes away, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks once again. He nibbles a little onto his lower lip, as though confused by himself, and then quickly straightens up, trying hard to seem like the most intimidating man of all the people gathered in the gardens, and not the sweet person Hyukjae really believes he is. Though he is still smart enough to keep his thoughts to himself.

The young man hastily bites an amused grin down as he leads them to the nearby bench with an inviting gesture of the arm. They go to sit down together without a word, the stone of their seat slightly warmed by the dimming sunlight, and send covert glances to each other meanwhile their tutors stop a few meters away from them. The older men have the decency to look away, though they are still close enough to hear their conversation.  

So much for privacy, Hyukjae scoffs darkly.

 

Next to him, the Crown Prince curiously blinks at him. “I – I heard you were raised in the Kingdom of Eletyrh,” he utters, chocolate orbs trying to disc