Their engagement celebrations were continued well into the evening: the Royal family, designers and ministers were all invited to stay a few days in the Southern palace. Eventually the Royals retired to their own drawing room with music and bright lights, and Jihoon’s expression dissolved from the Dark Prince to the Prince of Worry, Doubt, Self-Hatred and a Vague Sense of Depression About To Hit.

He and Hayi sat in a corner of the room. Hayi rubbed his back comfortingly as the Prince sat with his face in his hands.

The poor Princess didn’t even know what to say to console him.

The only thing Jihoon The Dark Prince really wanted was to be alone in a room, and to call Seungcheol to him and beg on his knees. That was all he wanted. Just a chance to tell him everything and beg for his forgiveness.

But that was impossible. His entire family was here, including his mother, and all the ministers. Not to mention the whispers maids could circulate about the newly-engaged prince trying to see an alpha alone in a room after dark.

So he simply sat there, entirely forlorn and awful.

“Where’s Joshua?”

Everybody seemed to quieten at Shannon’s question.

It was no secret amongst the adults that Joshua’s arranged marriage – like many – was not a happy affair. It was also no secret that Joshua and his bodyguard JR had a more than professional relationship.

Nobody was about to explain extramarital homoual affairs to a twelve-year-old princess.

Her mother fussed a little, picking at Shannon’s hair. “He said he was going to go have a walk around the gardens now that it’s a little darker. Remember?”

“Oh, right.”

“And darling, when we’re with other people, you have to call him-”

“The King, My Brother the King, or His Majesty. God, mom. I’m not five.”

Shannon was given a harsh rebuke for speaking to the Queen Dowager like that, and the small familial party continued on for another while.

“It’ll be alright,” Hayi attempted.

Jihoon gave her a look.

“Hey, come on. You’re my best friend. What do you want me to say?”

A muffled sound silenced the party. Jihoon sprung up to open one of the windows wide, just in time to hear the horrifying scream.

“JOSHUAAAAAAAA!” The voice was so pained and extremely distraught that it was unrecognizable at first. “JOSHUA!” he screamed again. In the black of the night, a figure moved rhythmically. It took a few moments of horrified screaming to realize what was happening.

Uncle Heechul was performing CPR.

“Get me a medic!” His voice was so changed by horror and fear, it was shrill. He sounded more like a high-pitched pterodactyl than a man. “Get me a ing medic! Now! JOSHUA! KEEP BREATHING!”

Uncle Hee kept performing CPR until a team of medics showed up. They took the practice over, offering the King mouth-to-mouth, and then quickly moving on to the paddles.

They spent a full ten minutes over the body in the darkness. The Royal family was locked upstairs, disallowed from rushing to the King – who knew what lurked in the shadows for them?

Thirty minutes after they stopped CPR, Uncle Hee appeared in the doorway. His face was red and blotchy and shiny from tears; dirt was ingrained in stressed wrinkles in his forehead, and his entire expression was drawn. He looked like he had aged twenty years in an hour. The sorrow and shock were so deep in his eyes, it hurt to look directly at him.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he whispered, his voice hoarse from screaming. “The King is dead.”

The Queen Dowager would have fainted if she was still on her feet: she simply sat in her chair, holding her face in her hands. Shannon immediately burst into tears, dropping her beloved phone on the floor.

Not a muscle moved in Jeonghan’s body.

“He was eating berries,” Uncle Hee muttered. “From the gardens.”

Jeonghan’s vision began to blur. He couldn’t feel his body. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t scream. He was absolutely paralysed.

“…the chief of police has been called, and the coroner is examining the body.” The exhausted man went to sit in a chair, almost falling into the seat. “…but Joshua is gone.”

And that was the moment Jeonghan’s body hit the floor.

The medics had taken away the Seductful Prince – alive, thank God, but paralysed with shock and grief, and in need of medical watch just in face – and the Chief of Police had arrived on the scene.

Uncle Heechul’s courage had been bolstered by a few glugs of brandy, so the Chief of Police was able to ask him what had happened in relative comfort.

“Joshua was… out and about in the gardens. I knew that. I was going to go see if I could find him. It’s getting cold out there.” The old man pulled his coat tighter around himself. “When I saw him, he was holding a handkerchief. One I gave him years ago. For his ninth birthday. When he was just a little kid. It was full of assorted berries, I guess. He was munching on one happily. A blackberry, I think. I asked him where they were from. He said, from some of