It’s barely 8am when Ten arrives in front of the huge oak doors of his bed chamber, the silk of his dark sleep robe pulled slightly off his left shoulder and its ends wrinkled in ripples around his knees. The hallway has been evacuated by soldiers, left with a couple of phrais who are busy dusting off the ancient portraits hanging on the walls at the farther side of the halls. Taeyong has called for an emergency meeting of all palace soldiers in preparation for the royal wedding (and to allow Ten to return to his chamber unnoticed). The deep echo in the hall is enough to deafen Ten with its unnerving silence. The plush carpet tickles in between his toes and he gives the doors a light push before stepping inside.

“I thought I won’t see you again.”

There’s a hollow sound to Jaehyun’s voice, one Ten’s unsure if is a product of hurt or indifference. It could well be both.

“I went out last night to go to the gardens. I was having trouble sleeping,” Ten lies, eyeing the ground intently.

“Your hair’s a mess.”

Ten’s fingers quickly comb through his hair, feeling its ends stick out from all angles.

“Lord Somchai came in just a few minutes ago. I’m surprised you didn’t bump into each other on his way down.”

Ten’s heartbeat rises expectantly. “What did he want?”

“He wanted to run down a few things with you about the wedding preparations. Just to make sure you’re alright with everything. I told him you were inside the bathroom and he said he’ll come back after an hour.”

“Oh,” Ten purses his lips in thought.

“Anyway, I need to get ready for today. I’m sure you need some time alone to prepare for the ceremonies too. I’ll go to my chamber now.”

“Jaehyun,” Ten calls before Jaehyun’s hand could reach the door handle.

The Emperor turns back, his black hair a waterfall over his eyes while they remain dim and guarded.

“Thank you for not telling him.”

The smile that lights up Jaehyun’s face is faint and subtle, but Ten takes it and is thankful for seeing a bit of glow in his fiancé’s face. He’ll take whatever he can get at this point.

The silence that fills the room is vile and consuming when Jaehyun exits the room, and Ten hugs his knees to his chest when he sits on his bed. It isn’t too cold as it used to be in the night, but the empty room suffocates him and the thought of what’s about to come in the day terrifies him to the core. He can still smell a bit of sun from his skin, Taeyong’s presence latching on to him like a memory that refuses to be forgotten. He inhales roughly, allowing the scent to wash over him, to fill him completely just how Taeyong always has. The tears pool in his eyes almost instantly and he shakes his head to keep the waters down. He can’t cry, not now when he’s got no one there to hold him till he stops.

A couple of phrais knock into the room a few minutes later, each carrying a pail of warm water for Ten’s bath. The King follows them inside his bathroom in silence, allowing the heat from the water to soothe his senses while he plunges inside the wooden tub. His groom set clothes are already waiting for him on his bed by the time he walks back into his room, the rich play of cream cotton and golden silk sewn perfectly to match the tiny pricks of stones accenting the garment.

Ten sighs while the phrais help him into his clothes, the warm cotton oddly feeling cold on his skin perhaps from the storm that’s rupturing him from the inside out. It is ruthless and unafraid, devouring him piece by piece. By the time this day ends, he’s afraid he’d barely recognize what’s left of himself anymore.

“Your Majesty.” Arthit comes into his room a few hours later, carrying a colourful Kan Maak* tray filled with a variety of beans, seeds and rice. The betel nuts and leaves stand in rich green inside the golden pot, a plethora of marigold and amaranth blossoms decorating it from the sides. “The council members are already at the Throne Room where the Buddhist monk awaits to give his blessings to you and His Imperial Majesty. Emperor Jaehyun is already dressed and ready too.”

“Where’s the Emperor?” Ten asks, pulling loose the thick cotton bracing his neck.

“Inside his room, Your Majesty.”

Ten nods quietly, sauntering towards the doors where a couple of phrais stand waiting. The servants open the huge oaks in one mighty pull and Ten instantly comes face to face with Taeyong. The mun nai is dressed in stunning white swordsman clothes, a gold sash hanging elegantly on his left shoulder embellished with the Royal Standard. There is a faint shadow under his eyes, begging for more sleep, but his skin looks soft and his lips a rich pink under the rays of the sun pouring through the tall glass windows across the hall.

“Lord Taeyong,” Ten’s voice is a light quiver against his mouth as his eyes scan the mun nai from head to foot. Taeyong’s eyes are a rich flame of passion blazing through his dark pupils.

“Your Majesty,” Taeyong bows. “The Emperor is waiting for you inside his chamber.”

Ten nods, clearing his throat before leading the way to Jaehyun’s room. Arthit follows him from behind, the huge Kan Maak almost blocking his entire head. The doors to Jaehyun’s chamber are carved with intricate patterns bearing the insignia of the Thai Kingdom. Ten pads through them absentmindedly, feeling the uneven wood against his skin before rapping his knuckles on the door.

“Jaehyun?”

There's a few seconds of complete quiet before the Emperor emerges from inside the room wearing a yellow daeryebok*, the lion’s tail snaking around his waist in silver satin before its full body blooms in an intricate artwork on his back. Ten’s breath hitches as he stands outside the Emperor's chamber, mesmerized by Jaehyun's unparalleled beauty. The Emperor’s eyes are coloured with a light shade of gold to match the bright colour of his daeryebok and his black hair is brushed up revealing the faint sparkle in his eyes, however sullen they’ve become. Two of his advisers are already inside the room seemingly waiting for Ten’s arrival.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” Arthit greets from behind Ten, handing the Kan Maak basket to one of the Emperor’s advisers. “This is a gift from His Majesty’s family to yours. We hope that this represents how much you are valued as a future part of our Kingdom and as His Majesty’s consort.”

Jaehyun’s gaze fall to the array of flowers swaying from the Kan Maak. “It looks beautiful, Sir Arthit,” he whispers.

“As you are, Your Imperial Majesty,” Arthit beams from Ten’s side.

Ten is still looking at Jaehyun, eyeing him carefully and wondering how his feelings have changed so abruptly overtime. Ten still finds the Emperor no less than captivating and breathtaking, but none of the aesthetics and good intentions can seem to sway his heart from yearning for an entirely different person now.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Somchai arrives behind Ten accompanied by two soldiers. “The people await your arrival at the Throne Room.”

A bead of sweat runs down Ten’s cheek when he nods. “Shall we?” Ten calls, extending a hand to Jaehyun. All eyes are on them, marvelling at the stark beauty of their regal clothes and appearance. From his peripheral, Ten can see Taeyong’s head bowing slightly before he takes a few steps back to retreat towards the other end of the hallway.

Jaehyun’s hand is warm when it clasps on to Ten’s waiting fingers and he smiles, its light reaching for his eyes as much as it reaches for Ten’s soul. “After you, My King.”

***

It’s funny how colours can dictate the mood of a place as it does for a person. Darker shades call for heavier emotions, a play of sadness and compunction. The lighter the colour, the happier a place becomes, the easier the hue spreads across your vision like a beacon of light that explodes in a tiny space. Red is deeper, reaching for threads of passion and hatred that are buried deep within the dim recesses of the heart.

The Throne Room is back to its golden hue, yellow silk draped along the walls bearing the Royal Standard’s crest, accented with a bit of orange and bright silver chains. A few chandeliers were added to the constellation of lights in the ceiling, a rain of stars dancing in their depths to match the chimera of colours glowing from the attendees’ dresses and robes.

The whole room drizzles into a hush when Lord Somchai steps inside from the main entrance, announcing the King and Emperor’s arrival. All eyes are on Ten and Jaehyun as they waltz along the long aisle leading to the high platform bearing twin sinks and a long pew, where a Buddhist monk stands waiting.

Jaehyun gives Ten’s hand a light squeeze, and from afar the King can see Taeyong taking his place near the platform, his silver hair like a feeble light that refuses to be burned down.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Ten’s head quickly to the side when Jaehyun’s words register in his head. Jaehyun’s eyes are twinkling under the chandelier and it sends a wave of comfort through Ten’s aching body. “Of course. Don’t you want it?” Ten replies, his voice sounding a little unstable.

The Emperor just smiles with a shrug. “I want what South Korea needs.”

“So do I,” Ten answers quietly, training his eyes back on the lines of people awaiting their march. For Siam.

Ten’s always imagined this day since he was still a child. His mother told him that a man’s wedding day is one of the most special days in his life. It means vowing a part of yourself to someone, making your lives one and whole – an irrevocable truce that is founded on love and trust, and the knowledge that you have pledged your life as a part of someone else’s future. Ten’s not sure, however, if any of those fit the description of the ceremony that is about to unfold before them now.

Jaehyun’s fingers are warm when they rest against Ten’s palm and the King sighs as they walk towards the platform where their new future awaits in contract. There is a soft hum in the air coming from the choir up ahead and Ten’s thoughts dance with the melody, his eyes instantly settling on Taeyong’s form from a distance. The mun nai’s eyes are a gathering of lights from the chandeliers and Ten almost chokes when he turns around to look at him like he heard him screaming his name in his head.

There are a lot of things Ten is unsure of in his life, and Taeyong isn’t one of them. If anything, Taeyong is the only thing Ten is certain of in this lifetime – a constant and a compass to the place he’s headed. Does he love Taeyong? He’s asked himself so many times before, and although he knows the answer, he’s scared to tell the mun nai so. It’s enough for Taeyong to know Ten likes him and that he wants him so bad enough to never let him go, but he will never let him dwell in a feeling so much deeper and riskier than that. Ten needs to keep them safe, and loving each other is never safe. It’s always too dangerous and oftentimes life-threatening. Losing Taeyong should not mean letting the world lose him too.

Jaehyun gives his hand a gentle squeeze and Ten turns to his direction, his eyes turning a little foggy.

“You’re about to cry,” Jaehyun whispers.

Ten sniffs, shaking his head and willing his tears to retreat into the back of his eyes. “I’m fine.”

As soon as they reach the foot of the platform, the Buddhist monk greets them with a bow, his hands held in prayer over his chest. Ten and Jaehyun bow back before walking behind the pew at the centre of the platform where they sit and wait for the ceremonial water blessing to commence. A couple of sinks rest before the pew, its water bathed with the aroma of wild flowers, a symbolism of fate and sacred blessings. Ten stares at it long and hard, feeling a hollow ache rest in the base of his gut.

The monk's orange habit is layered around his feet and he walks slowly towards them, his eyes closed. Ten bows in acknowledgment and sees a faint smile creeping up the old man’s face. His mother used to tell him that Buddhist weddings are more peaceful and quiet, void of words and vows that often cloud the solemnity of weddings. He had attended a couple of weddings when he was still a Crown Prince, the first one a Buddhist ceremony, and the second a Christian wedding of one of the late counsellors living near the farther cities of Thailand. He liked the idea of reciting vows and inking promises, after all Ten’s always been a silly romantic, a royal who wore his heart too often on his sleeves. He liked expressing himself and telling people everything his heart has always held sacred. He doesn’t know why it took him so long to tell Jaehyun how much he wanted him then.

Now that he’s standing beside Jaehyun, a second away from being his, he feels oddly regretful of so many things. He regrets not telling Jaehyun sooner, if it meant allowing himself to realise that what he really felt was not love but a childish crush founded on giddy feels. Perhaps buying himself more time to discern his feelings would have allowed himself to find Taeyong sooner, and would have given himself a chance to love the mun nai longer. But just like all other tales of love, it doesn’t work that way. Feelings always have to come with a web of complex circumstances, most of which you can’t find a way across.

The monk hums softly, raising the lamp of sacred water while murmuring his blessings. Ten sinks his chin to his neck, until all he sees are the curvy patterns of gold on the ceramic basin staring up at his face. He breathes, the air painful and short-lived when it scrapes on his lungs, and he feels Jaehyun’s fingers tightening around his open palm.

“Stop,” Ten hears a tiny voice inside his head say. “I said STOP.”

It takes a few seconds for Ten to realise that the voice is not really his or a figment of his imagination. The voice is a lot softer, veiled with a careful tone. Jaehyun stands up from his side, releasing Ten’s hand in his hold.

“Stop the ceremony,” Jaehyun’s voice echoes inside the packed room.

The instant buzz amongst the crowd rings in Ten’s ear and he glances up, his face pale when he sees hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at him, all bewildered and somewhat afraid. Ten’s eyebrows knit in confusion and he his head to the side to look at the Emperor, unsure of what he just heard.

“What are you doing?” Ten whispers harshly at his friend.

Ten barely misses the light smile that spreads across Jaehyun’s heavenly features. “Saving us both,” he whispers back.

Arthit and Counsellor Boon Nam are on the foot of the platform, looking equally bewildered by the turnout of events. Lord Somchai has already run towards the monk, a bit out of breath while he stares at the two royals in apparent shock.

“I beg your pardon, Your Imperial Majesty?” the monk bows, his forehead wrinkling in question.

“No one’s getting married today,” Jaehyun’s voice is loud enough to be heard by everyone inside the Throne Room, a series of gasps and mumbles filling the air.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Somchai turns to Ten in question, his eyes seemingly begging for some sort of explanation that Ten doesn’t have as well.

“Jaehyun.” Ten’s fingers curl around the Emperor’s arm, pleading him to stop. If he continues, if he’s the first to break the engagement, Ten knows Siam will never forgive him. They will hate the Emperor for turning back on their King.

Jaehyun turns around and gives him a gentle nod. “Trust me,” he mouths.

Ten’s hands fall on his sides while he watches Jaehyun walk towards the front of the platform, his back straight and his chin high.

“Siam,” Jaehyun’s voice is both loud and soft, swiftly gaining everyone’s attention, the crowd’s noise dying into a feeble hush. “I would like to apologise for stopping the ceremony. I come to your land, not as your King’s Consort and not as your enemy, but always as your eternal ally.”

Ten can feel his heart jumping out of his chest and he bites on his lips to keep himself anchored to reality. He trusts Jaehyun, and he knows the Emperor will not fail him, not now when their countries are both in the midst of war.

“Your King has always been special to me, as I am to him,” Jaehyun continues, the hall wrapped up in complete silence while his voice bounces off its stone walls. “I cherish your King as much as I cherish Siam and its people, but I value our friendship more than any bond this world could ever give, and I do not wish to break or even change that today.”

Ten can feel his heart sinking to his feet and rolling off the high platform. Jaehyun has taken a very dangerous step, one that involves denying Siam’s highest ruler and Ten feels frightened more than anything at this point. He doesn’t know how the people will take it or if they are ready to embrace Jaehyun’s resistance to the marriage. He can only think of one thing to soften their fall at this point.

“This choice is not only Emperor Jaehyun’s but mine as well,” Ten suddenly speaks up from behind the Emperor while he walks his way to join Jaehyun in front of the platform, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. Jaehyun’s eyes are sparkling with unspoken worry, and Ten gives him a reassuring nod before turning back to the crowd. “We have decided that in lieu of a royal wedding, a ratified merger will be put in place to fortify Thailand and South Korea’s renowned alliance.”

The crowd immediately buzzes in debate over the announcement of a revised treaty, and Ten watches as his Uncle Arthit climbs up the platform along with Cousellor Preecha and Counsellor Boon Nam, their faces etched with obvious alarm and concern over the unexpected statement.

Ten raises his hand instantly to stop them from coming up the platform, and the council members halt in their tracks. “I know this might come as a surprise to all of you with the huge preparations done for the wedding, but the Emperor and I want nothing more than the best for both our countries,” Ten explains, sighing when he hears the crowd hush to listen to his words. “We need your trust now more than ever. We are in the face of war, and it is time to foster unshaken alliances than to wage unstable bonds.” Ten looks down and sees Taeyong staring at him from the foot of the platform, his eyes burning with a quiet fire.

“Emperor Jaehyun and I have vowed to remain in service to our people and to lead both lands to safety and security,” Ten continues. “We do not need a wedding to guarantee you that. We only need each other to bring us to the front of this battle and to win back the lands that were lost and to persuade other people to come to our side. With your support, we know it will be possible.”

There is a piercing silence breathing inside the walls of the Throne Room, and for a moment, Ten can hear his heart beating wildly inside his chest. Jaehyun’s palm is cold when it wraps around Ten’s hand and he squeezes it, seeking refuge in what very little comfort it can give him at this point.

“If Your Majesty believes in this merger, then I, along with the rest of the soldiers from Siam’s army, will stand by our King.”

Ten doesn’t have to turn his head to know who is speaking. Taeyong’s voice is both firm and gentle as it pours out of his mouth and Ten looks at him, his eyes instantly stinging when he sees the look on the mun nai’s face – that look that lets him know that he believes in him.

“We will abide by the treaty and protect His Imperial Majesty in the interest of a better Siam,” Taeyong says, kneeling on one knee at the foot of the platform while he pulls out his sword from its sheath and plants its tip on the hard ground.

“I am with Your Majesty and His Imperial Majesty too.” Doyoung steps out of the thick crowd from the right side of the platform, wearing his scarlet robe bearing the wings of the phoenix on the arm. His voice shakes when he speaks, “I am Kim Dong Young, a descendant from the Kim Dynasty’s house of chief state councillors, and I swear from the breath of my lineage and my heritage, the Kingdom of the East, that we, too, shall stand by this new alliance.”

Ten’s lips quirk to the side, a smile finding its way across his lips. There is a reason why he’s always trusted Doyoung, and he’s more than happy that he is there to speak for them now.

“I am with His Majesty too,” Counsellor Boon Nam’s voice is soft but the swelling quiet in the room is enough to bring its sound to the surface. “The High Council will always be behind our ruler and what’s best for Siam.”

Ten turns around to look at the young royal and sees his uncle staring at him from the counsellor’s side. Arthit gives him a quick nod in approval, his smile a toss between nervousness and reassurance.

“The Middle Class will support this treaty too. The late King would have wanted the best for Siam and we believe in you, Your Majesty,” Counsellor Preecha speaks from the foot of the platform, his hand clutching his chest to proclaim his sincerity.

A series of positive proclamations follow suit, the room humming affirmatively in chorus over the new treaty. Ten can feel the virtual rope around his neck loosening a bit as more vows of support continue to pour in, and he relaxes when he feels Jaehyun’s hand on his shoulder.

“South Korea will sign a new treaty with Siam today, revitalising our stance as your loyal ally. We will continue to strengthen our alliance in order to provide Siam what it needs for your livelihood, while we seek your assistance in military strength. Together, we will become a bigger force that will win this war,” Jaehyun’s voice is both authoritative and comforting and Ten is thankful that they both backed each other on this. It was never planned and he doesn’t know how they reached this conclusion, but he’s glad they are both in on this with the right intentions at heart.

There is a chorus of whispers in the air while people mull over the huge news. It is a big step, one as important as two high leaders from different countries getting married. With the alliance being set in stone through treaty, it means bigger things and a heavier accountability for both Siam and South Korea. It means now that they have a shared responsibility to look out for each other, Siam has also repositioned itself in the war and has become a prime target of China. Ten knows this rests a grave sense of fear for his people, but with their military trainings advancing, he knows that they have a pretty good shot at providing national defence.

“Your Majesty,” Lord Somchai squeaks while he approaches the side of the platform. “I will have th