There’s something about water bodies that brings an overwhelming calm to Ten’s senses. Watching the waves crash into the rocks by the pier – waters seeping into the tiny fissures of the earth before getting pulled back by the sea– and the imprecise sketches of the sun on its surface. Ten likes how the clouds scatter in the sky without disrupting the sun’s ethereal glow. He likes how the wind hurtles to his face like it has always waited for his return, and how the light envelopes him in its bright and almost anticipating embrace. For this day, however, things are quite different.

Watching the Nolīte Oblīviscī bound towards the shore of Siam is by far the most unsettling experience Ten has ever had to endure. One of Jung Empire’s biggest naval ships made with the finest carvel from the mast down to the stern, Nolīte Oblīviscī was a gift of Emperor Jung to his late wife on their twentieth anniversary. This ship is now used as the Emperor’s personal means of travel, its frame boasting of sculptures of South Korea’s history. Now, it carries a good percentage of Ten’s heart with it, waiting to return to him perhaps in a thousand glorious pieces.

Ten’s hands are sweating and there’s a lump in his throat that he can’t seem to swallow down. The sun shines perfectly on Jaehyun’s hair as it falls over his eyes, a tint of red teasing the strands, and even from a mile, Ten could distinguish him in the cathead of the mighty ship. The air hits Ten’s lungs full force when he gasps, and even the sea tastes so bitter on his tongue. He winces, but even his silent complaints don’t help fast-forward the time.

“Your Majesty,” Jaehyun’s voice still sounds every bit like a captivating melody a few minutes after their ship has docked the pier. The Crown Prince bows and reaches out for the King’s hand, kissing it softly.

Ten has almost forgotten his father is there with him, but the King’s good-natured laugh pulls Ten back to his surroundings in time.

“Prince Jaehyun!” the King exclaims, eyes smiling with the warmth of the sun. “It’s good to see you back.”

Did you really have to come back? Ten wants to say.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Jaehyun beams, his lips rising along with the beat of Ten’s heart.

“I’m sure you’re exhausted. You didn’t have to personally come here to invite me to your wedding, but I feel thankful and honoured just the same.” There’s such tenderness and familiarity in the way Ten’s father talks to Jaehyun that it almost feels like they’ve been more than friends ever since.

Time seems to slow down on moments like this, Ten thinks. When his eyes settle on Jaehyun and the stars in the prince’s eyes blind him for a moment, or when he watches the valleys between his fingers when his hands move. In those moments, Ten is sure he loses a piece of himself and he’s not sure if he will ever get it back and make himself whole again.

“Ten!” Jaehyun’s voice always has this stunning effect on Ten, effectively bringing him back to his senses. “It’s great to see you.”

Ten can feel it again – the warmth spreading to his ears and cheeks – when Jaehyun crashes into him, knocking the air out of his lungs while he envelopes him in a tight embrace. All the pent-up anger and hurt trickling away with just a single touch. It’s just not fair. Jaehyun was never fair.

“It’s great to see you too, Jaehyun,” Ten finds his voice a few seconds later. Jaehyun’s eyes are too bright, too happy, a great contrast to the pain swimming in every vein of Ten’s body.

“Oh,” Jaehyun puckers his lips in thought, chuckling. “I almost forgot.”

When Ten sees him, it’s like all hope has died in his body. Taeil is not only good-looking, no, he is every bit as breathtaking and gorgeous as the summer sea. His cheekbones are proud and prominent, highlighting the immaculate contours of his face, and his eyes are deep with a sense of gracious want. The colour of his hair pronounces the dullness of its ash with such profoundness, and his smile is gentle yet foreboding. Ten already feels a few feet smaller than him despite the bare difference in their heights.

Taeil’s red robe flows like water around his feet while he walks down the wooden plank to where Ten and the rest are standing. The scarlet ends of his robe are embroidered with black ancient stitches, its lines falling in a V below his neck, exposing the paleness of his chest.

“This is Prince Taeil, son of King Moon of the Moon Dynasty of the West.” Jaehyun didn’t really need to say his name out loud, but there is immense pride in his tone, enough to let Ten know how badly he’s been defeated. “My fiancé.”

“Your Royal Highness,” the King welcomes Taeil with a smile. “Good for you to come.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” his voice is extraordinarily soft. “Jaehyun has told me so much about Siam, Your Majesty. He treats it as his second home.”

The King laughs, his shoulders shaking. “Prince Jaehyun’s been like a second son to me. I’m happy to see him betrothed to such a handsome young man. Him and Prince Ten have been very close friends for about five years now.”

“So he says,” Taeil smiles, fingers curling around Jaehyun’s arms and Ten can’t help but stare.

“My father wanted to come with us too, but there are far more pressing matters back at home. I hope you can forgive him, Your Majesty.” Jaehyun bows.

“Nonsense,” the King laughs. “Sadly, I am a bit busy myself. I’d imagine you are still tired from your long journey. The phrais will take you to the palace and show you to your room. We can have dinner tomorrow night, and we can talk more about your wedding then.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Jaehyun says, beaming. “Or we can just stay at the university boarding house. We'd hate to create unnecessary fuss inside the Grand Palace.”

“I insist.” The King waves a hand at Lord Somchai, the gray-haired adviser immediately rushing to his side. “Lord Somchai, please the princes to their rooms in the palace and make sure to have a couple of phrais attend to their needs.”

Jaehyun and Taeil bow before the King in silent thanks.

“Yes, My King,” the adviser says with a bow.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at dinner, Prince Jaehyun,” the King says. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince Taeil.”

“The pleasure’s all mine, My King,” Taeil replies.

The King waves a hand at Lord Punyaa, gesturing the bespectacled adviser to join him while he walks his way back to his carriage. The embroideries on the King’s khrui are responding handsomely to the rays of the morning sun, reflecting its healthy glow.

Ten takes a slow step forward, following his father to his carriage, his lips trapped in between his teeth.

“Ten!” Jaehyun calls, running towards the Thai Prince.

Ten’s eyes are suddenly wide and expecting. Jaehyun still owns a good part of him in a way. “Hey,” he greets weakly.

“Let’s have tea at the palace later. I’ve missed you.” Ten can feel his heart taking a deep dive to nowhere at the sound of those words. “Let’s catch up.”

“You’ve only been gone for a week, Jaehyun. There’s barely anything to catch up on,” Ten sighs more than says.

Jaehyun laughs at that, his eyes disappearing attractively. “Still,” he insists. “Let’s have some tea.”

“Fine,” Ten says, feeling a little bit upset at himself for giving in. “Perhaps at the palace library at 3?”

“Thanks, Ten. I’ll see you then.”

Ten exhales harshly, belatedly realising he’s been holding his breath in the entire conversation. The sun still falls perfectly on Jaehyun’s hair, he thinks, watching the younger prince walk back to his husband-to-be with the most heart-warming smile on his face. Ten pulls his head down for a moment, willing his eyes to focus on the ground instead. When he looks up, Taeyong is right in front of him, a soft smile resting on his lips. He takes a couple of steps back by reflex and almost misses his step, but the mun nai scoops an arm around his waist in time, steadying him on his ground.

“Why are you always so clumsy?” Taeyong asks with a quiet laugh. Ten must admit Taeyong’s presence is comforting, but right now he needs someone to be angry at without reason.

“Shut up,” Ten hisses, rubbing his hands on the sides of his robe and pretending to straighten its perfectly ironed out edges. His feet take him back to the carriage and he consciously avoids looking back and stealing a glance at Jaehyun and his fiancé.

“Shall we go, Your Royal Highness?” The lanky coachman is dressed in all white at the front of the carriage.

“Yes. To the Grand Palace,” Ten orders, hearing the rubbles beneath the carriage crunch when the wheels turn. He’s never been this unwilling to go home.

***

Ten feels like he never has enough robes to wear. There is a heap of robes piled up on his bed, tips of garments peeking through random places of the mount and ranging from different shades of the entire colour wheel. He specifically asked his phrais to pick at least a dozen of his best robes for his afternoon meet-up with Jaehyun. Right now, he’s standing in his white bath robe, water dripping from his hair and feet bare, staring at the pile of clothes like he has the world on his shoulders.

“Shall I ask our phrai to bring in more robes?” Taeyong is standing at the door, a lazy hand poised on the of his sword.

Ten clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Blue is good, right?”

“Hm?” Ten doesn’t need to turn around to know that Taeyong is raising an eyebrow at him again.

“I mean my blue robe. The one with silver linings. That’s a good colour on me, right?”

“Oh,” Taeyong considers for a moment, walking towards Ten’s bed and staring at the same heap of clothes. “It really doesn’t matter what colour. They’re all the same.”

Ten looks at Taeyong like the mun nai just said something utterly senseless. “No, they’re not. They’re all different.”

“Alright,” Taeyong concedes. “How about this.” The ebony robe glistens in the soft sunlight from the window, its hem gleaming with the shade of champagne gold.

“Jaehyun hates dark colours.”

“Maybe I should just go to his room now, bring this pile over and let him pick,” Taeyong’s voice is dripping with sarcasm.

Ten makes a noise of frustration, hands falling on his hips.

“Okay, okay,” Taeyong mutters with a roll of his eyes. “Here. This looks great on you.”

The red orange robe shines perfectly in the sun, its belt lined with gold ts and brandished with exquisite detail. “Ah, yes,” Ten considers. “Jaehyun loves this colour. He said it reflects the colour of the sun and he sees it in my eyes.” He smiles, eyes turning into half-crescents.

Taeyong just mumbles to himself, words inaudible.

“What was that?” Ten asks.

“Oh,” Taeyong says, a bit surprised. “Nothing.”

Ten looks at him sceptically. “No, really. What is it?”

Taeyong stares at Ten for a moment, visibly considering his reply. “I just… I don’t think you should worry about what he thinks. If you want to look good and feel good about yourself, do it because you want it.”

Ten’s eyes fall on the red orange robe in his hands, its extra ts rough against his fingerpads.

“Do it for yourself. Not for him.” The mun nai is looking at the robe in Ten’s hands, his eyes looking a little sullen.

Ten takes a good look at the red orange robe in his hands and takes a long weary breath before throwing it aside. Taeyong’s right, he shouldn’t be stressing himself over something that means very little.

A soft knock comes through the door a few seconds later. Taeyong takes this as cue to open it, welcoming a phrai inside the room.

“Your Royal Highness,” the phrai bows. “Prince Jaehyun said he will be at the library in half an hour.”

Ten nods silently, signalling the phrai to leave. This day might be his only chance to figure things out. He wants to know if Jaehyun really wants this wedding, if he really doesn’t stand a chance against Taeil and if this is really the end of something that has not even begun. Whatever happens, Ten will stand his ground and tell Jaehyun everything – all the things he has long since kept in his heart, guarded by the walls of his insecurities. He will strip himself raw and open. It will only be up to Jaehyun if he will take him or not.

***

The palace library holds quite the fondest memories of Ten’s childhood within its high walls. The nostalgia hits Ten full force when he enters the room, the smell of books clinging to his lungs as he steps on the maroon carpet, his gold slippers twinkling on his toes. The ceiling is high up, a massive chandelier twinkling in its depths while the sunlight drizzles into the room through the huge glass windows. Ten can almost see a younger version of himself climbing up the ladder by his left, rummaging through the long lines of books for something to read. A smile creeps into his lips when he thinks of how his mother used to say he wasn’t born to be a reader because he had such a short attention span. He jumps from one book to the next without bothering to finish any of them halfway.

“Your Royal Highness,” a phrai greets Ten near the door. “We’ve set up the table near the window as you’ve requested.”

Ten smiles. “Thank you.” He makes his way to the table further inside the room, right next to the window where he loves to sit next to. Taeyong is right behind him, his sword clinking as he walked.

“You never told me you had such a beautiful library,” Jaehyu