Since the day the county of Jeonju received the order from Hanseong, the capital city, three weeks ago, Kyungsoo had always been busy. Not the horrible kind of busy. It was, in fact, the kind he always lied. The king would visit his city again and Kyungsoo had more than enough time for all the preparations. It wasn't easy, especially when he's just as meticulous as the the king’s representatives or Lord Jonghyun’s, the duke of his province, annoying assistants. But at least they were agreeing on how most of things should go.

It shouldn't be too grand, just as the king had wished. Kim Junmyeon, the reigning monarch, only wanted to see how the towns of his province had been since his last visit, or that was what the Royal Letter had told him. So Kyungsoo always kept reminding himself not to overdo the decorations, their dress codes, and the food. Because from the king’s eyes, his visit was not anything special. Yet Kyungsoo couldn't help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—he could add more white roses on the centerpiece, or change the curtains from pink to lavender, or sprinkle the roasted chicken with a bit of imported spices. He would think of these every night, sighing out his discontent as he would lie down on his bed that hardly felt comfortable anymore (or at least until the last day of the king's visit).

On one weekend evening, Kyungsoo stood in front of the mirror. “Your Majesty,” he whispered, bending his knee so his head would be at level with that black line he marked on the mirror. He cleared his throat and did it again, tweaking his voice a bit lower. Then again, louder. Then another. He sighed, looking at his face as he traced the dark circles surrounding his eyes.

“The king shouldn’t see me like this,” he whispered to himself. Then he blushed. It was out of the blue; his cheeks suddenly felt warm and his insides were fuzzy. There was no one in his room yet a wave of giddy shame wrapped him. Unsure what to do, he ran to his bed and buried his face onto his pillow.



Kyungsoo found himself more preoccupied each day. He kept with him a checklist—the basic one—and he was not sure if every item ticked off was enough for a breather. Although he kept another list somewhere in his pockets—the white roses, the Indian spices, the lavender curtain, and a couple more of things he added a few nights ago. But he kept them sealed in an envelope, fighting the urge of his itching hands to read and hand them to his servants. It remained untouched.

With a groan, he plopped on his bed, waiting for the servants to knock on his door and start dressing him up. He wondered if him resisting the temptation to overdo it just a bit was a good decision. The knock came before he could even ponder on it. And then he was down the hall, waiting for the king.

When the king’s convoy arrived, Kyungsoo was surprised to find only three coaches—the first and last ones, black and less majestic but still beautiful, for the Royal Guards and assistants, and then the middle coach. It was the grander cart, shiny, pitch-black regal carrier adorned with gold linings and scarlet curtains. It wasn’t the Royal Coach but when it stopped in front of the mansion’s door, Kyungsoo knew who rode that. It was the king’s.

One of the Royal Guards went to the door, the king’s side, and opened it. The Duke of Paju, Kim Minseok, who was also the Royal Adviser, emerged as he stepped down. Kyungsoo felt his breath hitch.

Junmyeon followed after Minseok, carefully. Everyone bowed down. "Your Majesty," they all said in unison, rehearsed and perfect, just like how Kyungsoo liked it.

The mansion was his but nobility precedence always took place, and so the Kim Jonghyun, the Duke of Jeolla would first welcome the king. Kyungsoo was happy. He was saved from the anxiety. When the king shifted from him to the duke, Kyungsoo turned around to cough out air caught in his throat.

Though it was a really short talk, it was enough for Kyungsoo to compose himself back. Jonghyun then extended his arm towards the door and ushered Junmyeon in the mansion. Kyungsoo moved to the side, together with the rest of his household, bowing their heads promptly as the two walked in. Kyungsoo bit his lower lip. He knew he would be nervous once the king arrived but he never expected his reaction would be worse. He was nervous and his heart was pounding hard. The warmth of his face was enough to feel it in the spring’s still cold breeze.

He closed his eyes, wishing for the duke and the king to enter the foyer as quickly as possible. But when he opened them again, there were two pairs of feet right in front of him. His eyes grew wide.

“Ah, sir. This is Lord Do Kyungsoo, Earl of Jeonju,” Jonghyun introduced. “My co-host. He was in charge of all the preparations. A great nobleman. I am confident he will still be a great host for you.”

Kyungsoo fidgeted, his name strangely sounded foreign. Maybe it was because Jonghyun spoke too much of praises. Or maybe it was the reminder of his host duties that made him feel worse.

"It's such a pleasure to have you back, Your Majesty," Kyungsoo spoke with confidence.

This was the second time for Kyungsoo to be in close proximity with the king. He had always heard of stories of how attractive and charming Junmyeon was. He was young for a king and his ascension to the throne was a huge rumor to those who wished to be his consort. Six months ago, he proved these stories right. And for the second time, just a foot away from each other, Kyungsoo concluded he could never disprove them.

Junmyeon’s face was calm. His garb made him intimidating but his soothing features were something Kyungsoo appreciated. The king smiled at him, short but genuine, and Kyungsoo found proper breathing.

“Yes. How can I forget? I met him six months ago,” Junmyeon looked back at the duke who nodded in agreement. “The Earl of Jeonju.”

“Thank you, Lord Do,” he spoke softly, reaching for Kyungsoo’s shoulder and tapping it gently. “I hope to meet you so I can properly and personally show you my gratitude.”

Kyungsoo’s face was a cross between shocked and confused. He gave a wide-eye stare at Junmyeon as if his offer was out of protocol (it technically was but a request for a personal meeting with the king shouldn’t be a surprise). Kyungsoo thought he heard Junmyeon chuckle before stepping back and walking inside. As soon as they disappeared, Kyungsoo released tensed air out of his air-pipe, fighting the urge to bury his face onto his palm in front of his servants, although the embarrassing red that covered his face would be enough as an excuse to do so. Kyungsoo might not admit it but Junmyeon had got him...charmed. Or perhaps, enamored.




Everyone was gathered at the dining hall for dinner. There were not much guests for tonight. The king had brought with him only a small delegation that it filled only half the table. The other side was Jonghyun and next to him was the bachelor Earl of Jeonju—Kyungsoo. He was somehow grateful that someone of higher nobility had to take the closer seat to the king. Kyungsoo had not yet gotten over tension earlier and he feared of making more of an embarrassment of himself had he taken the duke’s seat.

That night’s food was exuberantly plentiful, that is, if contrasted against a typical mansion dinner but by royal standards of “enough,” Kyungsoo would say they were having a pauper’s meal. He had seen how some of the visitors apparently looked underwhelmed but Minseok would nod at each food served, the king following after him.

“Not bad,” Minseok mumbled as he took a slice of roasted chicken.

Junmyeon shook his head. “It’s not ‘not bad.’ It’s good!”

“If Your Majesty insists,” Minseok chuckled and Junmyeon sneered. The table erupted to a short laughter.

“His Majesty enjoys simple meals,” Minseok added. Kyungsoo caught his eyes, a few seconds late in the realization that Minseok was talking to him. He nodded. “He’s a frugal king.”

“Annoyingly frugal, he’d sometimes call me,” Junmyeon spoke, also looking at Kyungsoo. “Economical sounds better, don’t you think?”

The king was up for a bit of humor so Kyungsoo let go of his self-consciousness and shared a genuine smile with the rest. “I apologize, Your Grace, but I’m taking His Majesty’s side.”

“Of course you would,” Minseok raised his hands as if in defeat.

Jonghyun cleared his throat. “Lord Kyungsoo is known for his exceptional skills in food. He may have a throng of cooks and maids downstairs but it’s his taste that makes it amazing. He can make simple food taste sumptuously like magic.”

The duke would know. He would always say it every time he paid the mansion a visit, but then it was just Kyungsoo and him. Hearing such in the audience of the king felt too much of a praise.

“I can see that,” Junmyeon spoke, pausing a moment to sip wine from his goblet. “Or rather, taste. The food six months ago was nice, although quite extravagant. Tonight was simple yet something my appetite greatly appreciated. So thank you, Lord Kyungsoo.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” Kyungsoo said. Pink stained his cheeks.

“Say what, maybe we can ask Lord Kyungsoo to cook for us one time? In Hanseong,” Junmyeon asked Minseok who gave an approving nod.

“It would be an honor,” Kyungsoo bit his lower lip before mumbling another thank you. To tell that the king’s words meant a lot to him would be an understatement. They probably were more than enough to make him the happiest earl to exist in Korea’s history.




Schedule went smoothly as planned. Dinner ended exactly at eight and after a short break, the guests, including the king, were escorted to their respective rooms to retire. Kyungsoo on the other hand still had a couple more things left on his plate. Minseok came down an hour later, reviewing things for for tomorrow—the morning parade, a visit to the marketplace, and a lunch with the local merchants. The following day would be a tour of the estate. The latter was a recent addition, which for Kyungsoo meant a bit of revision and additional job.

Kyungsoo had all the reasons to dislike Minseok for ruining the schedule. But Minseok was a nice gentleman. His kind almost unending apologies were a complete swerve from his initial daunting demeanor, and Kyungsoo’s dismay dissolved just as quickly as how his first impression did. When he told Kyungsoo that the estate tour was the king’s personal request, Kyungsoo’s approval was pretty much sealed (not that he had any other options anyway). He just found solace in Minseok’s kindness.

“I will work on them myself, Your Grace,” Kyungsoo said in a tone he wished sounded more reassuring. He looked at the clock: eight minutes past ten. “You should rest. It will be a long day tomorrow.”

“I appreciate your effort,” Minseok responded with a gentle but apparently tired smile. "I apologize if I have to leave you with more work."

"It's more than an honor. I'll have one of the maids bring you your tea so you can sleep well."

Minseok raised his hand. "No, don't bother. The day had worn me out enough to get me doze off in no time. Thank you." And so he left.

Kyungsoo immediately went downstairs, discussed with the cooks of the food for the tour, asked the stablemen to get the horses ready before lunch, and requested his butlers to have all the riding clothes ironed.

Kyungsoo went back to the dining, now clean and clear of the china, and loosened up a bit with a glass of wine. When he looked at the bottle, he realized that he could not sleep yet. His body was tired but his mind wasn’t. And so he decided that a couple of alcohol wouldn't be bad. He probably was stressing himself out with the visit but he never thought it was bad at all. It's a break he enjoyed, a shift from the boring routines of estate maintenance. He liked it.

"You're still awake."

The voice startled the soul out of Kyungsoo that he almost dropped the glass. He stood up, a clenched hand on his chest. It was Junmyeon, the king, standing by the hall's door.

"Your Majesty!" Kyungsoo bowed down, although this time he was totally unsure if he had his knees bent low enough as protocols dictate. This was totally out of his expectations.

"No, no. It's okay. Please...uh, rise," Junmyeon spoke but in a casual manner, startling Kyungsoo even more. "I'm sorry if I scared you."

Kyungsoo stood up straight as ordered. "What is it that you need, sir?"

"I thought I would love to have a walk. I couldn't sleep and..." Junmyeon slowed down, his eyes catching the bottle of wine on the table. He also looked at the glass Kyungsoo was holding. When his face brightened up a bit, Kyungsoo was just confused.

"Would you mind if I ask for a glass of wine?"

Kyungsoo blinked. "Oh, no I wouldn’t. Of course. Of course, sir. I'll call the maids—"

"No. No, don't bother," Junmyeon cut him off. "That one would suffice," He pointed at the bottle, to Kyungsoo's surprise. Grace under pressure, Kyungsoo reminded himself. He shouldn't be panicking because it's the king and him but his heart raced because it's just the king and him. The former's presence was overwhelming that Kyungsoo thought accidentally spilling wine on the king's clothes was likely to happen. It did not help that he wore silk robes which exposed a good portion of his collar bones and chest.

"Would you want to take a seat, sir?" Kyungsoo pulled an empty seat which Junmyeon gladly took. Kyungsoo. He stood silently, as if waiting for Junmyeon to say something about the wine's taste. He did open his mouth but not about the liquor.

"I'm sorry for bothering you. Uh, don't stand there," Junmyeon chuckled. "Sit. I would enjoy your company."

The king's words of personal meeting earlier flashed in his head. If this is what Junmyeon meant by personally showing gratitude then Kyungsoo never honestly realized it would be something like this. Not that he wanted it to be formal but he never expected it would be this intimate either. And so the obedient subject that he was, Kyungsoo immediately took the seat across Junmyeon. He was not entirely sure how to break the silence. Junmyeon was staring at his glass, swirling the wine in it with a gentle smile on his face. Kyungsoo found himself staring for a reason he would tell only to himself—his king looked extremely alluring.

"I... I thought you were already asleep." Kyungsoo had to do it or he would be caught staring at inappropriate places. His second glass of wine had already kicked in not to make him drowsy but to feel a lot more alive.

Junmyeon shrugged. "I am not, apparently." He gulped the remaining content of his glass and Kyungsoo promptly filled the glass again.

"Tell me, why are you still awake?" The king's tone was engaging and Kyungsoo wasn't sure if he was to take his protocol-perfected manners at ease.

"I was instructing the maids for the tour of the estate, sir." It was an instant answer. He forgot that it was a last-minute adjustment the king himself requested.

"Oh," Junmyeon's eyes became round and it melted to an apologetic look. "That. I heard from Lord Jonghyun that you were pretty strict about schedules. I apologize for ruining it."

Kyungsoo shook his head a little too fervently that needed. He thought he might have a word with Lord Jonghyun tomorrow morning. "No sir, it's perfectly fine. It would be an honor to give you a glimpse of the estate. I believe you were not given the chance the last time you went here."

Junmyeon nodded. "You're right. Thank you for being so accommodating. You've worked hard"

"My pleasure."

At that point it was seconds of silence again. Junmyeon would swirl his wine once more, the clear liquid wetting the sides of his glass. Kyungsoo on the other hand still felt unsure.

"I think two glasses would be enough," Junmyeon sighed, a contented one. "How many did you have?"

"I was on my third when you came, sir."

Junmyeon chuckled. "Didn't expect you could be that much of a drinker."

The remark sent a tinge of embarrassment in Kyungsoo's stomach but he laughed it out anyway. He didn't really consider himself a drinker although he enjoyed wine a lot. High alcohol tolerance. He thanked his parents for giving him such.

"If you have money and wine," Kyungsoo began. It's a Chinese quote. Junmyeon smiled, parting his lips as both spoke the next words in unison. "Your friends will be many."

"The Chinese never lied about that." Junmyeon said and Kyungsoo nodded.

"So." When Junmyeon spoke, the chair's feet screeched but lightly on the floor and Kyungsoo stood up a second after. "Do you have any board games?"

It was again a moment of confusion for Kyungsoo. He looked at the clock: fifteen minutes before eleven strikes. Not that he already felt hitting the sack but he wondered if the king was putting off his rest time too much.

"I have a chess board in the den, sir." He answered. He had to.

Junmyeon nodded with a really animated smile. "I'll wait for the wine to take effect."

"I could accompany you to the den, sir. I don’t feel retiring the night either," Kyungsoo offered. He would probably regret this in the morning but all he could blame was his body anyway. Besides, it's the king. As much as this was a responsibility, and a big twist in his timetable, Kyungsoo was enjoying it. So much.




The den was the room across the dining hall. A smaller room, of course, but beautifully decorated. Paintings adorned a side of its walls while a small but still elegant chandelier hung above them. It had smaller bookshelves in one corner, home for the excess that would not fit in the library. On another corner was an upright piano. Its pitch-black color a beautiful contrast to the predominantly white curtains and cream wallpaper. The chessboard, which the king was happy to see, stood in the middle, a few feet away from the sole glass window of the room. Kyungsoo pulled two chairs behind the door, offering one for the king, the other for himself.

Junmyeon took the black set, Kyungsoo the white. The game began but not on a serious note. Kyungsoo would know. He was a master of this game, probably as much as the king, and he was still sober enough to notice that Junmyeon's first move wasn’t the best. It made sense anyway since the king just wanted to kill time. And so Kyungsoo decided not to be too harsh and to just take the game in a moderate pace. Winning was not a goal tonight.

"You know what," Junmyeon spoke, moving the knight that it captures a white pawn. "Sometimes I miss hearing my own name."

Kyungsoo blinked. "I'm sorry, sir?"

"Never mind. I'm sorry for babbling nonsense." The black bishop took another pawn. "I really liked the food earlier."

"They were all personal recipes," Kyungsoo confessed.

Junmyeon's eyes widened. "Really? That's great! So you taught your cooks how to do it or..."

"Yes," The answer came as the king trailed off. "I used to cook food myself but when I became an earl, I lost time. The cooks are doing a great job, I think. I miss the kitchen, though. Have always thought of as my second home."

"We got an extensive kitchen at Hanseong. I think you would love to see it," Junmyeon looked at his opponent with an amused smile, oblivious of Kyungsoo's bishop downing two pawns and a rook.

"If I’d be given the chance I’d definitely love to see it," Kyungsoo said with a tinge of excitement. He had heard of the palace's kitchen and though he never dreamed of becoming a cook for the royal house, he still wondered how it felt cooking there at least once. "It's one of the things in my...bucket list."

Junmyeon suddenly laughed, shaking his head, both hands on his hips. "We should have talked back then like this. Now I feel like I have missed a great opportunity for not asking you to go to Hanseong at least once."

"I'm...I'm not a lost opportunity, sir," Kyungsoo said, red and flattered.

"Oh yes you are. I think you'll find yourself a lot more often in Hanseong from now on."

Kyungsoo had never thought of his kitchen skills this exceptional, too exceptional that it would match the king's taste. Not that he had heard of the king being too meticulous when it comes to food but Kyungsoo knew, as everyone would, that if somebody cooked food for the gods, he must and should be cooking for the king as well.

"Don't get me wrong," Junmyeon raised a hand. "I liked the food served six months ago. It was good. I was just...too preoccupied."

Kyungsoo nodded. "I understand, sir. A king has his own duties. The taste of food is probably at the bottom of this list."

"Well, it definitely would be the least of my concerns if I find somebody who can cook good for me, don't you think?"

Kyungsoo chuckled and nodded. With no words spoken further, their heads were back on the board. The way the pieces were taken down showed no sign of a decisive winner, at least at that point. It was silent for a minute until Junmyeon spoke again.

"Say, Lord Kyungsoo. Do you know why we're here?"

Of course Kyungsoo knew. Weeks did he prepare for this working visit. It mattered a lot to him as this was a personal check of the king's people. An aristocratic duty Kyungsoo took with so much sincerity. For a moment, Kyungsoo thought the wine had kicked in. The king was becoming less stately in his actions with occasional slouches, arms crossed on his chest, and funny scratching of his head. But Junmyeon still acted clearheaded. His black queen just took Kyungsoo's last remaining knight.

"Well the letter..."

"Ah, yes. I know what the letter says," Junmyeon said when Kyungsoo trailed off. He looked at how Kyungsoo moved his queen that would lock his bishops dead in the next turn, He chuckled. "You see, your king isn't married yet."

Kyungsoo said nothing. He was confused.

"It's Minseok's proposal actually," Junmyeon continued. "We look for some lord or lady, or prince or princess if we're lucky, that I should marry. He's pretty much into the succession thing."

At that instant, it all made sense to Kyungsoo. The king—or Minseok, rather—was looking for a royal consort. The king was unmarried and he needed a spouse. Although their union needed not to be out of love, it was required because the king, to continue his bloodline, needed an heir. Kyungsoo wasn't sure if he should respond, like ask a question or give an opinion on the matter.

"What do you think?" That was Kyungsoo's cue.

"Have you found a suitable candidate?"

Junmyeon shrugged. "Well, not quite a lot but Minseok's made a list. We'd do the Parade at the end of the month."

Kyungsoo had heard of that ceremony. Whenever an unmarried monarch took the crown and had remained unmarried for a number of years, the Parade, as they called it, would be the most anticipated event. Noblemen and women would be presented and the king would choose who among them he would marry. There was nothing really special about it. The candidates would be sent to the king’s audience, introduce themselves, present a gift, and the king would pick. It was, however, the extravagance of the event and the thrill of finally having a Royal Consort that made it news for everyone.

With the way Junmyeon worded his concern, Kyungsoo could only think Minseok was taking things too quick for the king's liking.

Junmyeon dragged the black queen diagonally and took Kyungsoo's remaining bishop. The white king was in check. Kyungsoo moved the king to a corner square to get out of the check.

"So tomorrow is going to be a search for the candidate in Jeonju?"

Junmyeon nodded. "You can put it that way." The last white pawns were taken down and the bishop put the king in check again. The black rook stood in the next column and the white king was left with no escape. "Checkmate," Junmyeon mumbled.

Kyungsoo would not lie. The confession shattered his concentration. The words coming from the king himself made it no better. His heart pounded as he wondered who in his county would the king find suitable? He took a run down of the noblemen of Jeonju—the viscounts, the barons, the wealthy merchants of downtown, excluding himself. Himself. A twist in his stomach turned Kyungsoo's mind haywire.

Exhaling, he got out of his delusional distraction. Kyungsoo bowed and congratulated the king. "I hope you’ll find the best candidate in Jeonju, sir... as much as how you found the best spot to get me with no escape."

Junmyeon chuckled, a grateful smile etched on his face. "Well, that was a fun game. I enjoyed it."

"It was an honor." Kyungsoo stood up as Junmyeon raised from his seat. He opened the door and escorted the king back to his room upstairs.

"Take a rest now. You shouldn't be exhausting yourself when we have work tomorrow," Junmyeon said, reaching for Kyungsoo's arm and tapping it twice, gently. "Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate your company."

Kyungsoo could only nod, smiling. "Good night, sir."

The door shut with a gentle click. Kyungsoo remained there, eyes fixed on the knob. He felt tired all of a sudden but his heartbeat remained erratic. He thought it was because of the king's invitation to bring him to the palace's kitchen but a tinge of contempt formed at the bottom of his chest. He wasn't thinking of the kitchen at all. He was thinking of his chances for the Parade.




Although the previous night ruined his planned six-hour rest in preparation for the king's schedule, Kyungsoo was pretty much alive when morning came. He was downstairs talking to the maids before they could even wake him up. The guest's breakfast was served in their respective beds so it wouldn't be until they gather at the saloon that Kyungsoo would see the king.

Lord Jonghyun left the mansion earlier that morning as his wife began to show signs of giving birth. Kyungsoo, as much as he wanted to be saved from his awkward host duties had to let his duke leave. He had no choice to begin with. And so it was him who stayed at the saloon, waiting for the king and Minseok to arrive. They did, though, fifteen minutes later. Minseok whispered something to him about having a hard time putting the king into his garments without falling back asleep. Kyungsoo chuckled but Junmyeon looking at him with a fishy grin meant he was not supposed to mention about their late night chess game session.

Kyungsoo was surprised to see a different coach waiting at the front garden—the State Coach. Minseok had informed him last night that it would arrive at dawn but Kyungsoo never thought it would be this beautiful. It was grand and imposing, coated in gold and silver but still predominantly black. It carried a gallery of lions while a dragon stood on top of its arched roof. The golden doors were carved with very intricate designs of flowers and dragons which surrounded the king's coat of arms. It had larger windows as compared to the other coaches, big enough to see those who would ride in it.

Kyungsoo was too busy in his admiration that he failed to see the king come to his side.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

A little startled, Kyungsoo looked at Junmyeon and nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty. It's beautiful."

Junmyeon did not say anything afterwards, walking inside the coach as the Royal Guards opened the door for him. Behind him, Kyungsoo stood confused. When the State Coach moved, the black carriage he saw yesterday followed, Minseok already in it. It was going to be his ride.




The morning parade was a joyous moment for Jeonju, as expected. Junmyeon promptly waved at the people who, despite the huge crowd size, remained within sidewalks. "Long live the king!" They cheered, clapping and waving flags as the State Coach passed by them. Though Kyungsoo stayed in a different coach, he would at times see the smile Junmyeon gave as he greeted the people. It wasn't staged, though he expected it to be one. From afar, he could see that it was the same genuine smile he saw six months ago and Kyungsoo felt grateful. Besides, in a place where half of the people still struggled to make a decent living, he knew that this visit—even if the king claimed it was for other reasons—meant more to his people than it probably would to him. The king coming to Jeonju was a morale boost, a reminder that Hanseong and the king still cared for them.

The parade, which was quite shorter than before, ended at the marketplace. Treading behind the king as he looked at the bustling market in amusement, Kyungsoo would introduce Junmyeon to both exotic and native goods. As they went down an alley, Junmyeon stopped in front of a vendor who sold mudfish. He crouched, asking how much it cost at which the vendor promptly answered a silver coin for a small bundle.

Kyungsoo hunched over next to the king and spoke. "We use them for chu-eotang," he said. "Autumn mudfish stew. It's really good for the body. It helps you recuperate from heat or exhaustion. Many think it's also a beautifier because it's rich in vitamins which makes the skin smooth and healthy. It's kind of strange, isn't it, because we use a rather "dirty" fish for something that makes us look good. Your Majesty should... try..."

As he spoke, Junmyeon looked at him, not interrupting. Kyungsoo trailed off as he noticed the interested eyes staring at him with a face crossed between surprised and amused. It was only he realized that he spoke too fast, maybe too much for the king to catch. Worse, it was an unsolicited opinion.

"I... I apologize, sir. I didn't mean to impose." Kyungsoo stood up, head bowed down that all he could see was the ground and his shoes.

Junmyeon laughed and Kyungsoo felt a lot more uneasy. "No, it's alright. There's no need to apologize for being passionate. In fact, I think would love to have that stew for autumn." He kept a smile, wishing the vendor good luck before leaving.

Kyungsoo sighed to himself. He wasn't sure but he thought he saw the king hold in his laughter as he walked. Now Kyungsoo felt more embarrassed.




The next stop was the hotel. Royal Guards already lined up at the entrance. It's the third part of the day, meeting with the merchants. They weren't really merchants but a mixture of both middle-class and noblemen who owned the biggest businesses in and around Jeonju. Minseok said it was to assess economic activity; Kyungsoo knew it was for formality.

Like Minseok, Kyungsoo had to trail behind the king at every conversation. He would introduce each business owner—a task he didn't really exactly liked. They looked excited and eager to see the king, their stories sounding too exaggerated in Kyungsoo's ears. It was hard not to cringe. As they waited for lunch, Junmyeon leaned towards Kyungsoo, whispering, "You don't really like most of them, do you?"

He was caught and Kyungsoo could not deny.

"I understand," Junmyeon muttered. Kyungsoo sighed in relief. "You don’t have to be hide that from me, you know. If there is one person in this country who knows how annoying businessmen can be, it would probably be me." For a moment, Kyungsoo was confused if the king wasn't serious until Junmyeon laughed with a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Well at least Kyungsoo was glad their brains were on the same wavelength.

The remainder of the day was spent in the mansion. Back at the hotel, Minseok was quick to notice that the king (and Kyungsoo) were getting bored. There was nothing substantial happening as they kept shallow conversations with the businessmen. Also, Minseok shaking his head thirty minutes at the king after the meeting had begun meant one thing—he found no suitable candidate. And so they didn't bother spending a few more minutes of extension. Minseok dropped a white lie—that the king felt exhausted already, although that was partially true—and with a few closing remarks, the king's party was back inside the coaches.

"They don't really need our presence there anyway," Junmyeon spoke with an amount of sarcasm Kyungsoo had heard for the first time. He couldn't help but laugh.

"What?" Junmyeon exclaimed. "It's true anyway."

"Of course," Kyungsoo answered.

The king went back to his room and Kyungsoo excused himself into the den. He wasn't hungry. The lunch at the hotel wasn't really good but it was enough to keep his stomach filled. He knew Junmyeon would ask for something more pleasant later and so he made sure the cooks were doing good while he rested in his private place.

He slouched for a while, head thrown back so his nape rested on the low armchairs. This was a favorite alternative to bed, especially when time would not allow for a nap. It felt comfortable. He breathed in a relaxed pace, feeling his tensed muscles slowly unknot.

A little uneasy with the silence, as soon as he felt better, he stood up and went towards the phonograph just next to a drawer at the corner of the room. It looked foreign after being away the whole morning, with its flaring bell-like horn and wide turntable, although it had been there for a time Kyungsoo can no longer remember. He scrambled for a disc below where it stood and found the right music he thought would put him more at ease. Soon, the sound of soft orchestra filled the room, engulfing Kyungsoo in his own world. He hummed as he went back to his seat, the music bringing back to his throat the notes he was once familiar with.

It was halfway a stanza when the door creaked. It was slow but loud enough to interrupt Kyungsoo's reverie. The person appeared—Junmyeon, the king, standing by the door, eyes on Kyungsoo as if he had been there for a while, watching.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm sorry," Junmyeon said as soon as Kyungsoo threw him wide eyes, standing up.

"Your Majesty! No, no. It's fine," Kyungsoo straightened the creases on his clothes. "I thought I had the door locked so I was surprised."

Junmyeon shook his head. "No, accept my apologies. I may be the king but I am not infallible."

The only thing Kyungsoo could do was nod and smile. He ushered Junmyeon inside and let him sit on the chair where Kyungsoo slouched earlier. "Is there anything that I can help you with, sir?"

"Nothing really. I just heard music playing when I went down so I peeked. I should have known that it was you," Junmyeon confessed.

"It's alright," Kyungsoo reassured the king. "Were you able to rest?"

"I think I did." The music kept playing on the background and Junmyeon stood up from his seat. "I couldn't sleep. My body clock tells me it's too early."

Nobody spoke afterwards as the music grew louder, the soft violin suddenly escalating to a mixture of stronger instruments, ing to a roll of drums and clash of cymbals. Junmyeon bobbed his head to the slow rhythm, fingers tapping the side of his thigh. The sound gradually decreased force and it was smooth once again.

"Waltz. European music," he said. "Say, Lord Kyungsoo. Do you dance waltz?"

Kyungsoo blinked. If there was one question he never wanted to hear, it was anything about dance. Not that he was so bad at it but he had long admitted to himself that dancing was never going to be his forte. And waltz? He could only laugh, one that was too awkward Junmyeon could quickly sense anxiety.

"I take that as you don't." Junmyeon smiled

"I'm not good at dancing, sir."

All of a sudden, Junmyeon extended his arm, fingers closed but palm open, offering it to Kyungsoo who had his brows raised in surprise. He knew what that meant and the tick of the clock rang in his head louder than the music. The king wasn’t taking his excuse.

They were going to dance.

"Let me teach you. I have recently discovered the waltz and I thought it was wonderful," Junmyeon said, knees bent and his arm still stretched, waiting for Kyungsoo to receive it.

"But Your Majesty," Kyungsoo looked at the door. It was closed. Then the windows. The curtains covered them. "I'm not sure..."

Junmyeon showed no sign of pulling his arm back. He waited for seconds, patiently until Kyungsoo, out of pressure, put his hand on the open palm albeit hesitantly.

"This is going to be embarrassing," Kyungsoo muttered. Junmyeon ignored the earl's words as he raised their arms eye-height to their side while his other free arm reached for Kyungsoo's back, pulling him closer. He chuckled when Kyungsoo yelped.

"Put your other hand on my shoulder," Junmyeon said.

Kyungsoo did as he was told but his head had gotten fuzzy he wasn't sure if he had been hearing things right. The music was now a blur in his ears while his heart thumped faster than the drums that played. Never had he thought that he could be in this close proximity with the king. To hold his hand was even far than he had ever dreamed about. He never imagined for this to happen.

"Are you alright?" Junmyeon asked and Kyungsoo nodded. He was too nervous and embarrassed to say no.

"That foot goes first, then this,” pointing at Kyungsoo’s left foot then the right. “Then we move in three counts." When Junmyeon began to slide, Kyungsoo wasn’t ready. He got dragged that he almost tripped. Thankfully, he managed to land on a proper foot before he could even fall. Junmyeon counted once again, striding, stepping, then turning around. It carried on but out of the music's tempo.

Sometimes Kyungsoo would step on Junmyeon's foot and he would feel guilty. But the latter would not seem to mind. He would dismiss it with a quick "Don't" or "It's okay. You'll get the hang of it." The words were usually mumbled. In their closeness, he didn't find the need to speak loud and Kyungsoo wasn't sure what exactly too feel when they were this close.

Soon they matched the music, and Kyungsoo no longer stepped on Junmyeon's toes. His motions became light and his body swayed to the rhythm. He couldn't help but smile, his eyes watching the seemingly synchronized movement of their legs. It was fulfilling and amusing.

When he raised his head, Kyungsoo's heart almost stopped. Junmyeon’s face was close. He was looking at Kyungsoo, in his eyes, and their gazes were locked on each other. The king’s eyes were beautiful and Kyungsoo was lost in them. He was zoning out as if the music was suddenly being pulled out slowly away from their ears. The counting had stopped but their bodies kept moving. Muscle memory kept them in measure.

Junmyeon smiled and for once Kyungsoo had seen contentment. A funny twirl filled his chest. He knew this was his heart speaking to him, the feelings he had always kept, close to breaking out of its cage. Before he could carelessly act on them, Kyungsoo held his breath and snapped out of concentration. They were in the middle of a turn so he tripped.

He didn't fall. Junmyeon kept a tight hold of Kyungsoo's hand, the other sliding down the latter's waist so that he would not drop to the floor. Knowing it might end up with Junmyeon’s arm wound around his waist, a position he felt would be too awkward to take, Kyungsoo released his hand and took a step back so he could use his other leg to stand up but away from Junmyeon. The closeness of their body was more than enough for him to feel a tinge of funny but not in a bad way chill crawl up his spine. He pulled away.

"I'm sorry," Kyungsoo felt his face become warm. He couldn’t see it but he knew was turning red.

The music had already stopped. Junmyeon remained silent, still staring at Kyungsoo.

"Th-thank you, Your Majesty," Kyungsoo rambled. His brain had gone haywire and he wasn't exactly sure what to do to keep an awkward silence from befalling on them.

Junmyeon nodded, lips pulling to an amused smile. "You learn fast,” he sounded calm and composed.

"My parents said I do.”

"I guess they were right. I hope you enjoyed our...short dance lesson," Junmyeon said in a playful tone. He bowed his head, just like how one would at the end of a dance. Kyungsoo followed.

"I'll see you at dinner?"

"Yes. Sir.”

Junmyeon turned around and left the den. When the lock clicked, Kyungsoo threw himself on the armchair in an extremely inelegant plop. His hands covered his face, slapping his cheeks that they almost hurt as he spewed unintelligible words out of his mouth.




The next day, as early as five in the morning, Kyungsoo was already preoccupied. It wouldn't be until four hours later that the king's estate tour would happen which meant that Kyungsoo still had enough time to check, if not supervise, its preparations. He planned to bring them to the gardens, the temple a few blocks behind the mansion, and the parkland adorned with fancy follies. They would end at the high gardens, the one that spread in the highest peak of the estate, where he ordered for picnic food to be served.

And so they did. Riding on horses, Kyungsoo led the king and his men around the estate, briefly pausing at the temple for prayers before carrying on until they reach the high gardens. There, three tents were set up, two for the guests and one for the maids who served the food.

As soon as they arrived, Kyungsoo busied himself introducing the high gardens, talking about how it was supposed to be the temple, and that it came only into being after his great grandfather. The cool breeze, gentle despite being at the highest point of the estate, was soft and soothing. It smelled of daffodils and snowdrops, blanketing a supposed green space with beautiful colors of spring.

There was no formality in the event. Food would come and go as long as the guests wished for something to munch on. Meanwhile, Kyungsoo, the hands-on person that he was, would regularly find himself inside the maids' tent. As he checked the wine to be served, Minseok suddenly came inside. Kyungsoo excused himself, carefully setting a bottle on a table.

"What is it Your Grace?" Kyungsoo asked as they walked out, guiding the Royal Adviser away from the tent and under the shade of a young beech tree.

"Uh... there is something His Majesty wishes to tell you," Minseok began, his voice hushed though they're yards away from the nearest human being.

Kyungsoo fidgets, brows raised in both curiosity and excitement. He didn't ask and Minseok knew that Kyungsoo's silence meant the same thing.

"The king has told me," Minseok cleared his throat. "Well, has he told you about the Parade?"

Kyungsoo wasn't sure of what to make out of that question. There wasn't a hint of threat or dismay in Minseok's tone but for some reason, Kyungsoo felt like he was being caught red-handed for knowing something he shouldn't have. He nodded, wishing it was safer than a vocal answer.

"I see," Minseok hummed. There was a three-second pause which Kyungsoo felt like the longest three seconds of that moment. Then Minseok parted his lips, silent for a second before letting out a sigh. "The king wanted you to go to the Parade."

"I...I will cook for the king?" The question left Kyungsoo's mouth before he could think through it.

"No. No, no," Minseok shook his head fervently. "What the king meant is that he wanted you to go to the Parade as a candidate. You know, prospective consort."

Kyungsoo blinked, attempting to make words come out of his already open mouth. A hand was on his chest, tapping it gently still unsure of what he heard. He laughed, looking above him which he took only as an excuse to properly absorb the situation.

"He wanted me to go as a potential consort?"

Minseok gave a silent nod, no words, but a soft, gentle smile on his face.

"Is...hold on," Kyungsoo put both hands on his waist, slowly nodding to himself before looking at Minseok straight in the eye. "Is His Majesty sure about this?"

"Yes," Minseok answered promptly. "I don't expect any response right now. Well, the king does but he understands that you might have reservations. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning at ten. You know already that. I hope I can hear from you before we leave."

Kyungsoo, still flabbergasted, just nodded in response. Minseok, just as he normally would, apologized and excused himself, leaving a confused Kyungsoo under the tree shade. It was only until Minseok was gone that Kyungsoo felt his stomach twist. At least he wasn't going to throw up but the churns in it was enough to cause a funny burn swell right below his chest. His heart pumped faster, a silly ache creeping up his head.

"This isn't happening, isn't it?" He told himself, inhaling a good amount of air although his nasal cavity almost froze at the chill. He sighed, loud and strong, before fixing his clothes, straightening the creases that formed on his sleeves. The wine bottles were waiting.




There was nothing extraordinary—if not awkward—during dinner. Although Kyungsoo had to sit next to Junmyeon, both were good to act just as normally as they could. There were a lot of jokes, laughter, songs, and wine. It was the last night of the king's visit anyway and the king was just happy to let a huge chunk of formality be gone.

The night ended late. Kyungsoo could feel exhaustion seep through his bones that when the king finally went up to his room, he just plopped on one of the saloon's armchair, its cushion feeling just as equally comforting as his bed. As he was about to doze off, he heard somebody come down from upstairs and he saw Minseok, mouthing an "Ah!" when he saw Kyungsoo.

"Yes, Your Grace," Kyungsoo greeted even before Minseok could fully alight the staircase.

"I just wanted to apologize. About earlier," Minseok began. He bowed his head for a bit.

"No, no. It was totally fine, sir," Kyungsoo shook his head.

"I seemed to have gotten you disoriented right after we spoke."

Kyungsoo bit his lower lip quick, suppressing a smile he didn’t really expect he would do. "Well, it was quite a shocker, if I may be honest." He extended his arm, offering the armchair opposite him. But Minseok raised his hand, politely declining. This was going to be a short conversation.

"Thank you. Well, actually it's...again, something about the Parade that's why I came down," Minseok continued and Kyungsoo's heart dropped again. "I thought you ought to know."

"As you probably already are aware of, Jeonju is the last part of our search. For the candidates, you know," Kyungsoo remained silent. His knees were giving up on him but he remained straight and calm.

"This is not to pressure you, Lord Kyungsoo, but His Majesty had never requested any lord or lady to go to the Parade until our visit here." Minseok's words sent a chill down Kyungoo's spine. Just as he thought he was just one of the many, he was proven wrong. "I am not entirely sure why he has done such for the first—and probably last—time but I have...speculations."

"I understand, sir," Kyungsoo mumbled. Speculations. The word struck hard on his chest.

Minseok put a hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder, light with gentle pats. "If you're going to decline and you're worrying about consequences, fret not. The worst thing to happen is the king's disappointment. No punishment, I assure you."

"Thank you," Kyungsoo said, smiling. His heart swelled at Minseok's concern and kindness and though deciding about the Parade loomed closer to him, he couldn't help but be genuinely appreciative of Minseok's efforts. It must be hard on him working on the Parade as much as it was for the king. "I will give you my decision first thing in the morning."

"I would highly appreciate it. Now, kindly excuse me. I shall be off to bed now," Minseok said and went back upstairs.

Kyungsoo sighed, releasing the top buttons of his shirt before dropping back to the armchair with a groan. Fingers massaging his forehead, he chuckled to himself. He wasn't dreaming, although his body felt light. It probably was the comfort of his slouch.

When surprises come and timetables were broken, Kyungsoo knew what exactly to do. He was quick to think of alternatives, or to fix things to get them orderly again. But tonight, it was different. This was out of his expectations and though he knew the answer—deep in his heart he already had an answer—he wasn't sure if this was going to work out well for him. He closed his eyes.

He wished it would.




Minseok was the first to greet Kyungsoo as soon as he got out of his room in proper dress. The king and his party would be leaving in a few minutes but more than that, aside from the coaches, it was Kyungsoo’s decision that the Royal Adviser was waiting.

“So, have you thought about it well?” He wasn’t acting in any haste but his words had it all.

Kyungsoo could only bob his head a little gently, unsure with no escape. From the saloon’s open doors, where the front garden was visible, horseshoes tapped the rough ground. The wheels crushing pebbles suddenly sounded loud.

“And?”

"Well, I thought about it and realized... I would honestly be broken to see the king disappointed." If there is something wonderful about being contextual, it's the way Kyungsoo could craft words so that he could be romantically subtle. Later he would realize it was pretty pointless.

Minseok's anxiety dissolved into a smile. "So that means I would be sending you an official invitation to the Parade?"

"I would be glad to see it on my desk, sir," Kyungsoo smiled back.

When Junmyeon suddenly appeared next to Minseok, his heart flipped just as his stomach somersaulted. The king wore a blue, silky gwanbok, one that almost looked the same as Minseok's teal clothes, still regal but less stunning. It was unexpected but the king would be on a journey for a day so it would be practical to wear something comfortable and less imposing.

"Am I smelling good news?" Junmyeon asked, his smile gentle but the quirk of his brows spelled curiosity.

The two bowed in an instant. Minseok spoke. "Your Majesty, Lord Kyungsoo has accepted your invitation to the Parade. I will be preparing the official notice as soon as we reach Hanseong."

"I guess we'll be meeting again. I'm looking forward to it," Junmyeon said. It was anticlimactic, at least on Kyungsoo's part. His chest heaved as the king showed no more than a short moment of wide eyes and approving nod.

"Yes, sir. I am honored," Kyungsoo responded. He wished he didn't sound too disappointed.

"Thank you so much for accommodating us well," Junmyeon said. "And I find it amusing that Lord Kyungsoo doesn't look a bit tired at all." He looked at Minseok who nodded right after the king.

Kyungsoo shrugged. "I look stronger than I look like."

"Of course."

The conversation then moved on to the king's journey back to the capital. After several exchanges of gratitude, Junmyeon found himself back in his coach. Kyungsoo, with the whole of his household lined up behind him, bid farewell to the king.

Six months ago, the sound of whips and the horses' loud neighs was a relief for Kyungsoo. This time, it wasn't a breather. It was the start of something different. In two weeks time, life could bring him to a crossroad. He knew he should prepare for the worst, but at the same time, should the stars align in favor of his heart's desire, he should be ready as well.




Two weeks were short. One morning, Kyungsoo woke up to a letter with a royal seal. A few, mostly sleepless, nights later, he was inside a beautiful coach Lord Jonghyun sponsored because "You should make a good impression, my dear friend. Also, don't forget me when you become the consort." Kyungsoo was glad Jonghyun was a duke otherwise his palm would have hit the latter's chest hard and flat.

Kyungsoo didn't really enjoy travelling to Hanseong. He lived in the south and honestly, the north was just home of everything stressful. If it wasn't for Junmyeon he wouldn't be sitting on this coach and waiting for his bottom to rot on his seat. The capital city was half a day of travel away and the grueling boredom was more than he could tolerate. Not to mention the unpaved roads they had to pass through before they could reach the closest steamboat station, reminding him of how inept people of his likes could possibly be. Books could accompany him but his eyes would hurt when the path get rough and bumpy. Although he had brought a butler with him, they just had the littlest of things to talk about. Thankfully, the stops in between provided short relief for his dying legs. Another coach waited at the end of the By the time they reached Hanseong's gates, Kyungsoo couldn’t feel his bum. But at least the travel was over. The next thing he should worry now was what he should do once he's inside.

The palace wasn't a single structure; it was a complex of buildings that covered a huge expanse of land. Although it sat atop a hilly area, it still didn't tower over the city. The surrounding twenty-foot wall formed a six-sided six-angle figure, earning the nickname "The Hexagon" although the people would still commonly call the whole place, the walls included, simply as the palace.

While the walls created a bland impression, the inside structures were a marvel for anybody's eyes. Crossing the bridge over a moat that was built for decorative purposes only, the biggest gate, manned by the Royal Guards, led to a wide palace grounds. A fountain stood at its center, creating a roundabout. Another wall and gate, albeit smaller, extended a few meters away and beyond that stood a concentration of structures. There, more guards were stationed.

The coach stopped right in front of the smaller gate. One of the guards inspected their carriage while another went towards the driver, asking for the invitation. Kyungsoo could overhear their conversation and so he peeked out of the window, called the guard, and gave him the letter. With a nod, the guard returned the invitation and ordered for the gates to be opened.

As soon as they passed through the gates, Kyungsoo could see another group of guards lined up on the side of the road. A carpet led to the Great Hall, a majestic building with an open ground floor. At the top was the Royal Balcony. Kyungsoo recognized it; the place where the king would make his speeches. A few weeks from now, the king would appear again on the same spot, no longer by himself, but with a husband or a wife. Kyungsoo closed his eyes, inhaled the cold air, and let it out as a slow, heavy sigh.

Each candidate’s turn for the Parade was scheduled and would be strictly followed. Kyungsoo’s turn was last and he could only assume it was arranged based on the candidate’s confirmation and not necessarily on precedence. He looked at his clock. It’s half past nine in the morning. He was pretty early for his turn.

As the coach neared its spot, Kyungsoo was still in disbelief. Only at the sight of a minister waiting at the end of the walkway did it begin to sink in: He was in Hanseong, not as a visitor, but as part of the Parade—a potential consort for the king.

A guard opened the coach’s door and he stepped down. As his foot landed the ground, he was told that his things would be brought to the guests' quarters where he would be staying overnight. Kyungsoo nodded. This was it. There was no going back.

Judging by the small amount of officers that lined up the walkway, Kyungsoo could say that the actual Parade was to happen further inside the complex. Besides, neither the king nor his personal guards and ministers were in sight. Yet, the trumpets, flags, and follies of the grounds felt too much for Kyungsoo's liking. But then, in the first place, he was in the capital city, the palace for that matter where everything ostentatious was bound to happen. Amusement filled his head. This was a huge contrast to the king's character.

Kyungsoo smiled as he took the first flight of stairs and onto the landing, past the balustrades where a young-looking minister stood.

"Welcome to Hanseong, Lord Kyungsoo," the minister bowed. "I am Byun Baekhyun, Lord Minister of the Court. I hope you had a good journey all the way from the south?"

"It's nice to meet you, Lord Baekhyun." Kyungsoo said. "It was a little rough. But more pleasant than I expected."

"That's good to hear. His Majesty, the king, is already in the Royal Pavilion. But in the meantime, you will be brought to your quarter. You will be called fifteen minutes before the Parade."

"The Earl of Jeonju," Baekhyun introduced him to the guard. "Please bring Lord Kyungsoo to his quarter."

"This way, my lord." The guard extended an arm to the right. With a bow, Kyungsoo followed the guard, down to the roofed corridors that would lead to the Royal Pavilion. He remained silent with his guard walking at least a foot away from him. As they neared, Kyungsoo could see a huge pond, the Pavilion on its side. It was walled although from its size, they were built for aesthetics only. Three wide, concrete bridges led to its entrance. The central bridge was the only one adorned with flags, banners, and flowers. On the empty lot near it were the Royal Guards, larger in number than those at the Great Hall.

They turned right, away from the Pavilion's corridor and a huge, wide building came into view. The thick columns that lined up its facade and the distance between them suggested that it was divided into quarters. Kyungsoo continued to follow his guard until they reached the last door where he saw his butler standing beside it.

"This is your room, my lord." The guard said. "I will be back fifteen minutes before your scheduled turn. In the meantime, please have a rest. Snacks will be served in a while. Is there anything else you need, sir?"

Kyungsoo shook his head. "There's none. Thank you." And with that, the guard was dismissed.

He wandered his eyes for a moment, thinking if the other candidates would be housed in the same area. Two more structures stood to their side, albeit smaller, but they bore the same design as where he was to stay. His butler said that was their quarters. Behind his building as a small garden with an equally small pond. Aside from that, there was nothing else. The silence discomforted him a bit; it looked like it was just him in the quarters.

As his butler opened the door and brought his luggage in, another guard appeared by the gate and a man in a dashing dark red suit came in along his butler. The flower designs stitched to the side of his clothes, and the round dragon that occupied his chest indicated that he was from another kingdom, probably from China. While the his clothes were quite intimidating, it was his courtly, imposing demeanor that gave Kyungsoo a wave of anxiety.

They stopped in front of the next room. Kyungsoo wasn't exactly sure if this person was also a candidate. It wasn't until the guard said that he'd be back to pick him up "fifteen minutes before your turn" that Kyungsoo's assumption was confirmed. The newcomer, in the simplest word he could think of, was handsome. He was tall and elegant. Despite the kind and endearing features of his face, he still gave off a strong princely attitude.

"Hi," the stranger said, smiling.

Kyungsoo was confused. He wasn't sure if he was the one being spoken to until he remembered that there wasn't anyone yet in this area except for him and his butler—and the royal-looking stranger with his butler, too—so he quickly muttered a hello.

"Are you here for the Parade as well?"

Kyungsoo looked at him with wide eyes before nodding.

"Oh, I'm sorry if my question sounded quite intruding. I knew no one here except for the Duke of Paju and the king so I thought I should try to make an acquaintance."

"It's okay," Kyungsoo said. Although the person spoke in Korean, there was something odd in the way he pronounced his words. He wasn't a native, Kyungsoo thought. "I think they're the only ones I know here, too."

"Really?" The stranger looked excited, or amused, probably because finally he wasn't alone in his sentiment. "So you must be from a far land."

"Within Korea. I'm from Jeolla, a province in the south."

"I see. I'm from China," the stranger said. That explained the accent. "Is it alright if I ask your name?"

The question made Kyungsoo feel quite affronted. This guy might not be accustomed to their rules and Kyungsoo might be the humblest nobleman to exist in the history of Korean aristocracy but asking an earl of his name before an introduction was rudeness to his ears. He hesitated at first yet his guts told him to give the person the benefit of the doubt. Their conversation began on a polite note anyway and he felt it would be a waste to ruin it with arrogance. And so he succumbed to his guts.

"I'm Do Kyungsoo, Earl of Jeonju. And you are?" Kyungsoo made sure he asked the same question back.

"Oh. It's nice to meet you, Lord Kyungsoo."

Kyungsoo nodded. At least he knew how to address nobility.

"I'm Zhang Yixing." He extended his arm with an open hand, expecting a handshake.

Kyungsoo took it but without his heart jumping out of his chest. He knew ten people were invited for the Parade and while they were all to meet eventually for tonight’s dinner, it appeared that none of them knew who they would be contending with. Kyungsoo was told he was the last to be presented but he never knew one of them would be this person.

And Yixing, he needed no introduction of his title—he had all the right to not say it. Everyone, at least the noblemen, knew of him and his family, the Chinese Imperial Family. To assume he was a distant member of it was foolish. He was, as he said, Zhang Yixing. The son of the emperor, Third Prince of China.




In all honesty, Kyungsoo never wanted to think of the Parade as a competition he should win. Although he found Junmyeon an attractive king—and that he might have already fallen for him—marrying him was far beyond the realistic future he had imagined. He was being practical. What were the odds of a king falling for an almost unknown earl of the south to begin with?

This meant that being in the Parade was the least, probably even outside, of his expectations. But when the king came back to Jeonju two weeks ago and invited him to the Parade, with all that strange happenings within his three-day visit, Kyungsoo's attitude towards it made a quick turn.

He thought that maybe, even by the smallest of margins, even if it wouldn't be easy, somehow, he had an edge over the rest of the candidates. That maybe, Junmyeon would actually like him and that by tomorrow morning, he would hear his name called, the one the king would marry.

Then came Zhang Yixing, the dashing, stately prince from China, and all that Kyungsoo had been daydreaming about for the past two weeks just made another turn. Not that this had disheartened him but he never expected being pitted against a member of the Chinese Imperial Family. It felt like the victor had been chosen before the game could even begin. Kyungsoo's morale two weeks ago was on a boost. Now, he couldn't say if he still had it.

------

More Notes:
1. Second part is halfway done. It'll be up before the month ends!
2. You probably wouldn't care about how nobility works here but in case you are curious, the noble titles are based on nobility divisions of the Goryeo dynasty mixed with a bit of British peerage rankings. Peerage rules, however, follow neither that of the Goryeo dynasty nor the British. I made them all up! I got some rules written in another document but will probably post it once the whole series is done.