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“Oh dear, there’s no coming back from that.” Mouse whistles low and long.

Mouse, Beetle and Catfish look on in sympathy at Hakyeon sprawled in the mud, Catfish cringing slightly at the thought of all the dirt and dirty water seeping into Hakyeon’s clothes and splattered across his face. And when a catfish is disgusted by mud, it’s definitely bad.

“How did he even fall?” Mouse shakes his head, and Beetle points at the small gate to the side of the impressively huge main palace doors.

“He saw the prince and was staring so hard he wasn’t looking where he was going,” Beetle says. “Personally, I don’t get why this prince is such big news. He looks just okay to me. Not enough legs, for one thing.”

“He’s human, Beetle. Humans just have the two legs.”

“Eh,” Beetle shrugs.

“Well? Aren’t we going to help him?” Catfish asks, looking round at the other two. “That’s what we’re sworn to do, isn’t it? He helped us in our time of need and now we need to help him in turn. This looks like a serious time of need, in my opinion.”

They hesitate a moment, watching as the prince sweeps dark, serious eyes over Hakyeon still on the ground in front of the palace’s entrance – probably frozen in embarrassment, Catfish sympathises – and then makes ready to move on with his retinue, probably on his way to practice his archery or swordfighting in the fields beyond the castle. It’s finally fully summertime, and the fair prince must have had enough of being cooped up by rain and cold. 

“Master!” Mouse runs out from their hiding place behind a barrel, his tiny squeaking voice turned up as loud as he can possibly go. “We will distract the other humans so you can make a getaway and die of humiliation in peace somewhere secret!”

Beetle and Catfish follow on Mouse’s heels, Catfish flopping along as best he can, and the prince is almost urging his horse into a gallop down the main Kingsway towards the countryside when he catches sight of the motley crew racing to the side of the man lying mortified in the mud and halts his retinue of courtiers and guards immediately. A flicker of curiosity passes over his face.

Hakyeon looks round at the incessant squeaking and blinks, sure that he isn’t seeing a mouse, a beetle and of all things, a fish, moving towards him with speed.

“Master,” Beetle hisses at him. “Remember us?” Catfish gives Hakyeon a small wave with one of his fins.

“Don’t you need to be in water?” Hakyeon asks weakly, wondering if the fall somehow knocked the sense right out of his own head. Bad enough that he’d publically embarrassed himself in front of his prince and got nothing but a stoic stare in return, but now he’s hallucinating three little animals that he’d helped weeks before on his trek towards the capital from his master’s farm.

“Master, we’re here to save you,” Mouse tells him. “Beetle, go!”

Beetle takes up his position in front of Hakyeon and starts doing what Hakyeon can only surmise is some strange form of insect calisthenics – Mouse claps encouragingly, but Beetle stops after a short while.

“I can’t do this without music,” he throws back at them. “Help me out, here.”

Mouse then launches into a very high-pitched traditional song, nudging Catfish into following along to provide the background music for Beetle to dance – oh, he was dancing – and when Hakyeon doesn’t immediately sing along too Mouse turns around to frown at him.

Hakyeon passes a hand over his face. Well, why not.

The utterly surreal sight of a beetle dancing to ‘Arirang’ is compounded by its multi-species backup choir, and now more people are beginning to gather to watch. The prince still hasn’t moved, holding his horse’s reigns tightly to control it from moving restlessly, eager to be off – his courtiers are beginning to laugh, watching the antics of the tiny insect very earnestly dancing to Mouse’s extremely high-octave singing. Catfish starts to tug on Hakyeon’s pants with one fin, quietly indicating that Hakyeon should slowly get up and start to move away now.

“Friends don’t let friends crash and burn alone,” Catfish murmurs to Hakyeon. “Our debt isn’t entirely repaid to you just with this, but it’s a start. Come on, everybody’s watching Beetle.”

A startled exclamation from one of the prince’s attendants just then makes everyone look up and away from Beetle’s exertions towards the royal retinue – the prince is doubled over his horse, the courtiers surrounding him looking shocked. His guards push their way to his side instantly, the merchants and commoners in the courtyard catching the fire of alarm and looking around them for anybody that may have meant the prince harm. He’s slumped over the reigns as if his stomach is hurting him, or, heavens forbid – did someone strike him some kind of blow? – One of the royal guards gently but firmly lifts the prince upright to check to see if his liege is hurt, and suddenly the whole courtyard goes silent.

The prince is laughing.

He’s trying to hide his face in his hands and keeps going boneless in his mirth, and the guard holding him up is torn between staring at his prince in complete astonishment and helplessly looking around him to the other guards and courtiers for guidance in this totally unexpected development. The prince is laughing.

A courtier rushes off back inside the palace, and that seems to break the spell; the courtyard full of people erupts in amazed murmurs as the remaining few courtiers turn to look at Hakyeon with wide eyes. Hakyeon stares back, speechless.

“You there,” says one, the first one to find his voice. “Come with us.”

*

“Marriage?” Hakyeon sputters, and then has the presence of mind to add on an incredulous “your Majesty?” when the king lifts one eyebrow at him. He looks over at the prince sitting in the smaller throne beside his father. He’s sunk his head into his hands, and Hakyeon has no idea if it’s due to his despair at having to marry Hakyeon per his royal father’s decree or the embarrassing thought that the first time he’s laughed in his life is because of a beetle dancing to Arirang. With a low sense of humour like that, Hakyeon thinks distractedly, it’s a wonder he’s not laughing all day long.

“But he’s a commoner, your Majesty,” one of the king’s advisers protests. “And strictly, it was not exactly him that made His Highness laugh, I hear. Was it, Yoonseon?”

“It was the beetle,” the courtier speaks up nervously. “A-and the mouse, your Majesty.”

“Well, he can’t very well marry a mouse, can he?” the king snaps, and then turns to Hakyeon. The rest of the advisers, courtiers and guards in the throne room do the same, and Hakyeon takes a deep breath.

“Who are you?”

“My name is Cha Hakyeon, your Majesty,” Hakyeon keeps his voice level and calm. “I’ve travelled here from the countryside. I used to work on a farm, and my master gave me leave to see the world.”

“Worked on a farm!” someone repeats, aghast, and Hakyeon takes another deep breath to fight the shame building up in him.

“Yes, on a farm. I worked for a good, honest man and I hope I served him faithfully. And I’m looking forward to returning soon,” Hakyeon narrows his eyes at the courtier who’d spoken. “The capital is proving to be a little too inhospitable for me.”

“Your Majesty, you don’t really mean to go through with this marriage?” an advisor asks, almost laughing.

“The whole courtyard was full of people who saw it, sir,” another advisor cuts in. “The king cannot be seen to go back on a royal decree. The people must have unquestioning faith in him.”

“What if we say he,” the first advisor casts a condescending look over Hakyeon, “objected?”

“Refused to marry the prince?” a courtier gasps. “That is the highest insult, Advisor Kang! We’d have to hang him!”

“Well?” Advisor Kang replies, unfazed.

“Wait just a minute-” Hakyeon protests in disbelief.

“Or,” Kang continues, as if Hakyeon hadn’t said a word. “We can say the prince rejected him. That he has boils all over his-”

“Excuse me,” Hakyeon interrupts hotly. “This is going too far. Look, I have no interest in forcing anyone to marry me, much less the next king of this country. You can give whatever reason you want. Just not about the boils. I will leave quietly.”

This causes a momentary stunned silence before the king exhales and leans back in his throne. “We will discuss your proposition,” he says, looking shrewdly at Hakyeon. “We will send for you once we are agreed.”

*

Hakyeon finds himself ushered into an adjacent garden while the king and his advisors debate what to do with him – he doesn’t see what else there is needed to discuss, given that he’s already said that he will leave without any fuss, but apparently this is how things are done in the capital.

“Boils,” Hakyeon scoffs.

The garden is beautiful, unlike any Hakyeon has ever seen – but that’s to be expected, he scolds himself. He’s never been in any place as fine or lovely as the palace in his life. There is a little pavilion at the center of it and flowering vines growing gracefully over it, hanging down in sweet-smelling bunches so one could sit under it in the shade and comfortably paint, or write, while the flowers fragranced the air. He accepts a small cup of water from a servant before they bustle away, leaving him alone, and the water is the sweetest and freshest he’s ever tasted.

“Even the water is high-class, here,” he mutters to himself, carefully setting down the porcelain cup on the pavilion’s stone seat.

“Nothing but the best for the king and crown prince,” Mouse agrees, crawling out of Hakyeon’s jacket to come to rest on his shoulder, Beetle clinging on to Mouse’s fur. Hakyeon nearly has a heart attack.

“How did you get in there? Is the fish hidden somewhere in my clothes too?” Hakyeon pats himself down quickly but finds no fish-shaped lumps.

“We had to leave him behind,” Beetle explains.

“His fins aren’t made for climbing onto humans, it seems,” Mouse continues.

“Look here,” Hakyeon begins sternly. “You do realise that this whole nonsense is your fault?”

“I can’t help it if I’m hilarious,” Beetle sniffs. “And we weren’t doing it on purpose, anyway. We just wanted to help you to get away with your pride intact.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Hakyeon replies sarcastically. “Best case scenario now, my name is going to be tarnished somehow as reason for why the crown prince has rejected marrying me, and I get to go home. Worst case scenario is that we are both forced to marry each other because of his father’s stupid decree that whoever manages to make him laugh wins his hand in marriage. What kind of crazy person does that? Who puts up their child for auction like that?”

“That wasn’t his intention,” comes a voice both soft and hard at once from behind Hakyeon, and Hakyeon whirls around to see Prince Taekwoon standing at the entrance to the garden. Hakyeon is suddenly very aware that the prince – his fiancé, hah! – has just heard him call his father ‘crazy’ and has little reason to forgive him for it.

“My apologies, your Highness,” Hakyeon falls immediately into a deep bow. “I did not think when I spoke.”

He hears the prince murmur a short dismissal to his attendants and hears him approach, not daring to look up yet.

“My father formed the decree out of his own desperation.” Hakyeon sees fine boots stop in front of him. “Enough.”

Hakyeon slowly eases back into standing up straight, stunned slightly at the sight of the prince at such close quarters. Pale but with dark hair and fine eyes – he truly is the spitting image of his mother, dead now these past five years. Hers had been a cold beauty, striking and untouchable – Hakyeon remembers his master at the farm waxing poetic about her after returning from the capital where he’d been summoned for the general census, six years before. Hakyeon had still been a boy, then, and he’d listened to his master speak in hushed tones about the beautiful queen sitting beside her king, him vibrant and loud while she had been quietly commanding and soft. His master had briefly mentioned too, the crown prince about Hakyeon’s age; a carbon copy of his mother.

“What do you mean, your Highness?” Hakyeon ventures to ask, keeping his tone respectful.

“He wants so very badly to see me smile again,” the prince answers bluntly, and Hakyeon doesn’t know how to reply to this. Is he still in his sullen teenage years, or-?

“Do you know why your little performance made me laugh?”

Hakyeon shakes his head, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Beetle and Mouse still on his shoulder shaking theirs as well.

“My mother used to sing and dance that song for me,” Prince Taekwoon answers, looking away in slight embarrassment. “It made me happy to remember her as she was.”

“Please accept my condolences,” Hakyeon murmurs, watching Taekwoon try to pretend that the source of this whole farce isn’t something as heartbreaking as it is – a young man pining painfully for his mother, lost too soon. “I’m sure Her Majesty will be proud of how you’ve grown.”

Prince Taekwoon raises an eyebrow at Hakyeon in perfect imitation of his father, Hakyeon well aware of how presumptuous he sounds saying that to someone his own age yet meaning it sincerely all the same.

“Also, of course, you look really goofy when you laugh,” Beetle pipes up abruptly, and Hakyeon’s stomach drops to his feet at the prince’s look of shocked indignation. “I imagine that’s another reason why you don’t like people seeing you do it. Your cheeks do this weird thing-”

“Forgive him,” Hakyeon gasps out. “He’s just a dumb insect-”

“Who are you calling a dumb insect?” Beetle demands as Mouse breaks into peals of squeaky laughter. “What did I say wrong? It’s the truth!”

Prince Taekwoon has gone red staring at the little animals on Hakyeon’s shoulder, and for the second time that day, he starts to laugh helplessly. It’s a few moments before Hakyeon is swept along too, the prince’s laughter being strangely infectious the more he tries to hide it – and the more Hakyeon tries not to laugh at the prince laughing, the worse it gets.

The prince’s whole face changes when he laughs – just a few seconds before he looked cold and serious, dark eyes giving nothing away; now his eyes are just happy crescents and he can’t keep still, bending over and stepping from side to side as he covers his face and turns away to laugh even more.

“Oh gods,” he tries to catch his breath finally, one hand pressed into his warm cheek while the other tries to fan his face.

“Keep us around, Princey,” Mouse advises, and Hakyeon hasn’t recovered enough yet to rebuke him for that choice of nickname. “Me and Beetle have been considering a career in comedy, and I don’t mind being exclusively attached to the palace. We’ll discuss compensation later, of course.”

The prince tries to school his face into a semblance of its previous solemnness, but he just can’t. “You’re ridiculous,” he tells Mouse.

“We’ll take that as a compliment,” Beetle replies airily, and as Prince Taekwoon purses his mouth to hide another smile he catches Hakyeon’s eye.

“You look wonderful when you laugh, your Highness,” Hakyeon tells him honestly. “It’s such a lovely thing to see. In my humble opinion your household would be so happy to see this on a regular basis.”

Prince Taekwoon looks taken aback for a moment like he doesn’t know how to react to Hakyeon’s sincerity, and settles for contemplating Hakyeon quietly. “Well, I – I suppose five years is a long time to mourn someone.”

“I don’t mean that,” Hakyeon says gently. “But smiling and laughing will not erase your mother’s memory.”

“Plus think of all the people you’ll make laugh too with that goofy face of yours,” Beetle adds on helpfully, and has to dodge a royal finger flick from the prince.

“Listen,” Prince Taekwoon turns to look at Hakyeon again with a decisive air. “Is your master’s farm very far from the palace? And do you really have to go back so soon?”

*

“Yeonnie!”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes at his master’s pet name for him and drops his hay pick from where he’s bedding out the horses, jogging around to the main house and leaving the barns behind him. It’s been a long morning, mucking out the horses and then laying down new hay and feed for them, and Hakyeon is a total mess. He’s got hay sticking to him everywhere and he’s sweaty and dishevelled from Flower, his favourite mare, always trying to eat his hair. So of course the reason why he’s been called out from the barn is because the prince is there in the main yard, sitting high and royal-like on one of the palace’s gorgeous white stallions. The two guards with him look like they’re not sure where they are or why they’re here, which is something they share in common with Hakyeon’s master who’s nearly beside himself at having the crown prince himself on his farm.

“Hello,” Taekwoon says. “Yeonnie.”

“Your Highness,” Hakyeon ignores the jibe, squinting up into the sun at Taekwoon on horseback. “You’ve chosen a bad time to visit unless you’re willing to help me finish mucking out the barn.”

 “What’s that?” Taekwoon asks, sliding off his horse in one smooth motion. “And why are you in such a mess?”

“Help me and you’ll find out,” Hakyeon grins.

“Hakyeon!” his master hisses in alarm at him. “You’ll do no such thing!”

“It’s alright, master,” Hakyeon tells him over his shoulder, taking Taekwoon’s hand and leading him towards the barns. The prince’s two guards look at each other, evidently surrendering themselves to the next few hours of manual labour. “Remember how I told you I got engaged?”

*

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