They say graduations are an academic representation of a student’s coming of age. The elaborate processions exist as a living metaphor and a prelude of the harder times to come. For Ten, however, graduating means escaping familiarity and fully submitting himself to the terrors of being a royal. Sitting here and watching his ajahns deliver several speeches make him feel nostalgic, and he can’t help but feel like he’s missing something. He’s not done yet and he badly wants to stay.

His white graduation robe is made of thicker cotton, its ends slightly ballooning around his legs. The barren field next to their classrooms has been transformed into a ceremonial venue, wooden chairs propped up in front of a small platform and the wooden podium from the sparring hall cloaked in cream silk to look more elegant on stage and for the speakers.

As expected, Doyoung finishes as top of their class and Ten surprises everyone else as one of the first honourable mentions. He grins when his fingers fall around the thick scroll handed by their headmaster. He’s done it. He’s finally graduated.

“Ten!!!” Yuta’s smile is all teeth when he slams himself at Ten, causing the latter to lose balance and fall -first on the grass. The Chrysanthemum Throne Prince brazenly lunges over him, diving on his stomach and effectively knocking the air out of Ten’s lungs.

“Get off me!” Ten wheezes more than screams and Yuta just laughs at him, his eyes turning into little slits. Yuta barrels himself further, pressing his entire weight on Ten, and the Thai Prince can’t help but think of different ways to murder Yuta in his sleep.

“Congratulations to my two favourite princes. That was a beautiful graduation!” Arthit’s voice has that affectionate tone to it. The sun is high up in the sky, its light pelting down on the grass and gracing it with its majestic presence. Yuta pulls himself up from the ground immediately to bow at the bearded noble, but the latter just waves him off with a laugh. “Ah, no need for such respects, My Prince. We all know you can order me around as you please. I’m just a nobody.”

“Stop saying that, Uncle Art.” Ten is brushing the stray grass off his back while he gets up on his feet. “This prince right here has a tendency to abuse his power.”

Yuta glares at Ten, mouthing a you-did-not-just-say-that in the process before turning to grin at Arthit. “Don’t believe him for a second, Sir Arthit. You have a liar for a nephew, and I say this with all due respect for your lovely country.” Yuta is still beaming at the noble and Arthit can’t help but laugh at their little squabble.

“You two are insufferable,” the old man says.

“You just called us your favourite princes seconds ago,” Ten reminds him.

“I call everyone that.”

Ten laughs. The old man does have a point.

“Anyway, consider this as my congratulatory present to you, Your Royal Highness.”

Ten’s lips stretch out into the most beautiful smile the moment he sees the bouquet of pink begonia in his uncle’s hands. Its petals fade to a darker pink from the supple flush that starts from the flowers’ crown. The yellowness of the begonia’s stigma is bright and dazzling, and Ten can already envision how great it would look in his mother’s secret garden.

“These are beautiful, Uncle Art!” Ten finally says when he manages to catch his breath. “Thank you.”

Yuta’s lips curl into a playful smile. “Where’s mine, Sir Art?”

The old man laughs again, a hand clutched tightly to his chest. “I’ll make sure to pay you a visit at the school mansion and bring another bouquet.”

“I’m just kidding. I’m a little jealous, but I’m fine.” Yuta swings an arm around Ten’s neck and pulls him closer for a hug. The grin on his face is infectious but Ten wants to strangle him just the same.

“I better get going then. Congratulations again on your graduation!”

Ten waves at his uncle as he watches him retreat towards the main gates of the university, his gold robe sparkling under the sunlight.

“Hey, Ten!”

“Doyoung!” Ten exclaims when he sees the son of the East Chief State Councillor approaching him under the shade of the trees. “Congratulations. Although I have to say we were all expecting it.” The tease brings an adorable lilt to Ten’s voice.

Doyoung looks like a shy little bunny every time he approaches other students. “Thanks, Ten. I just wanted to say how thankful I am for all your hospitality here in Siam. You guys helped me a lot since I got here and I will never forget that.”

Ten smiles, resting an elbow on Doyoung’s shoulder to help ease the tension. Ten’s grin grows wider when he feels Doyoung’s body relax against him, and Yuta holds out for Doyoung’s hand for added skinship (Yuta mostly does it just because). “So are you going back to the East?” By East, Ten means the Kim Dynasty, where Prince Heechul’s older brother resides as the new King. Doyoung’s family has long since pledged allegiance to Prince Heechul’s family, ever since his ancestors created their own dynasty of Chief State Councillors. It wouldn’t be surprising if Doyoung ends up following his father’s footsteps in the future too.

“Actually,” Doyoung’s voice is incredibly gentle and he looks like a petrified rabbit when he speaks, “I might stay here for a few more months. I’ve been working on a history project with the headmaster. I’m planning to present it to the council when I return to our lands to serve as a new curriculum for future classes. We all know you have a far better library than what we have back in our place.”

It’s true. Siam has one of the best libraries in all of the neighbouring lands in the continent, which is probably why a lot of nobles come to their university and pay a lot of money to be trained by some of the best ajahns for the throne. Since Siam has mostly been a safe haven from wars for decades, their ancestors have managed to preserve so much of the world’s history in scrolls, written in ancient handwriting and languages. Just the enormity of their manuscript collection is astounding.

“Well if that’s the case, I guess I’ll see you around?” Ten’s eyes are turning into half-crescents again as the sun’s light blinds him from its new angle.

“I’ll see you around, Ten. You too, Yuta!”

“Let’s drink tonight at the mansion,” Yuta winks playfully at Doyoung as they watch him sprint back to another group of students, a scroll tucked underneath his arms.

“I can’t believe it’s over,” Ten says, plopping under the shade of the tree, their favourite spot near the once empty field. His back finds refuge in the uneven bark of the trunk and Yuta squeezes right next to him, his knees pressed to his chest.

“Me neither,” Yuta sighs, resting his head on the Thai Prince’s shoulder.

From this angle, Ten can see students clustered in varying numbers – a couple of nobles using their graduation scrolls as makeshift swords for sparring while they use the chairs as hedges; another pair making out near a willow tree; and there’s also that group of dukes laughing and crying as they regale stories about their times in the university. The Thai Prince continues to wonder where time has gone. It’s like he can’t catch up with the way it slips so easily through their fingers.

“I’ve always thought that we will be sitting here with Hansol, Johnny and Jaehyun on the day of our graduation. I never thought it would only be just the two of us left.”

The smile that flows across Ten’s lips is gloomier than happy. “I never thought I would make it here myself.”

Yuta pulls his head up, cocking an eyebrow at the Thai Prince. “Why not?”

“I guess it’s because I’ve always been unsure of myself. I didn’t know if I could make it.” Ten’s always had that self-doubt, that apprehension that he wouldn’t make it past all the rigorous trainings and classes.

“You should give yourself more credit than that, Ten. Everyone in Siam loves you. The King is so proud of you. You’ve done so much for this country, even for this school. You are the light of this city. You need to see that in yourself.”

Ten smiles lightly, hugging his knees as his chin rests on its pads. “You’re right,” he says a few seconds later, a light gust of wind playing with his hair, its tips tickling his eyelids. He closes his eyes to listen to the sound of the leaves rustling above their heads. He will miss the sound and the way it lulls him to sleep.

“I know I’m right,” Yuta replies a few beats later.

“I wasn’t only talking about Siam and I. You’re also right about one other thing.”

Yuta turns his head to look at his friend, his face visibly perplexed. “What do you mean?”

Ten inhales deeply, digging for something deep, something far. He’s been thinking about this for days now, but admitting it to Yuta is almost like admitting it to himself too. He’s frightened when he says, “That I like Taeyong. You were right about that too.”

The smile that lights up Yuta’s face is bright and blinding, and for a moment, Ten wants to push him into the river and make sure that he drowns.

“I know what you’re about to say, and I’m telling you now to save it,” Ten threatens him.

Yuta laughs and it sounds annoyingly high-pitched. “I know you so damn well, do I?”

“Oh, piss off, will you?”

“Tell me again that I’m right.”

“Stop.”

Yuta’s eyes turn into tiny slits and he laughs louder, catching the attention of a few nobles and ahjans near the platform. “How did you know?”

How did he know? It’s a question Ten's been asking himself over and over for the past week – if he really likes Taeyong or it’s just a feeling that rises to the surface every time he’s near and he’s giving him too much attention. Ten’s always thought that the mun nai was interesting, that his mysterious and confident vibe is the sole reason why he’s always been so smitten albeit unconsciously. That maybe it’s how the mun nai cooks food for him, how he teaches him how to hold his sword properly, or the way he scolds him when he’s sick or when he forgets to eat or take care of himself like a reliable adult. He thought it was all that and more, but really, when he thinks hard and presses his hand closer to his heart, what it all comes down to