Rules of court were simple. Never disagree with the ruling house, leave in the spring to tend to your lands, and never ever remove your mask. There were other, smaller points of etiquette that were to be followed, but breaking the three rules was akin to signing your death warrant.

 

A mask, in its simplest terms was your identity. Every mask could tell you at a glance a person's family, rank, and marital status. Only the nobility were allowed masks, the peasantry having no rank were not allowed to hide their faces. The masks played a dual role in keeping the wearer safe from plots of ambitious nobles. Countless body doubles were casted and paid handsomely for their lives.

 

The promise of such money meant hundreds of people came to the manor houses every year to audition with the hope of being selected. That was how KyuJong had found himself waiting patiently in a cold hallway outside the throne room with at least twenty other young men. They money earned from being a mangto could feed his parents and sister for a hundred lifetimes. It was well worth the risk.

 

After waiting for hours, it was finally his turn. Called into the room by a servant who sized him up with a haughty smirk. Clearly the servant had his own opinion of KyuJong. Walking through the room on nervous legs, KyuJong approached the man seated in a chair off the dais, careful to avoid looking anywhere but the floor. Head bowed he stopped midway between the door and the man, he knelt down, bowing his head to the floor.

 

"This is the last one," the servant was saying, brushing by KyuJong on the floor. "I think we may have to open auditions for tomorrow as well." Hearing the servants words, KyuJong's heart sank. This had been his only hope of helping his family. He would return home empty handed and begin the life of a farmer, as his family had been for generations.

 

"We will not hold auditions tomorrow," a soft voice said, and KyuJong reasoned it must be the other man in the room. The Prince. "You may stand and come closer," the Prince said. KyuJong slowly got to his feet and walked forward a few more steps. "Closer, please," the voice came again with an amused lilt. KyuJong came forward a few more steps until he was only paces away from the man.

 

"Do you know why I haven't agreed to any of the others, JungMin?" The Prince asked, KyuJong assumed to the servant.

 

"To try my patience, sir," came the exasperated sigh.

 

"Because none of the others have stood this close in my presence and not risked looking up at me," the Prince laughed lightly. "Your irritation was an added bonus." There was a sound of shifting fabric and then footsteps. KyuJong held his breath as silver slippers came into his vision. "What is your name?"

 

"KyuJong, m'lord," he said, trying to hide the shaking to his voice. There was a flutter of hope in his chest. The Prince's words to his servant, and standing so close to him. Maybe he had a chance after all.

 

"You may raise your head KyuJong," the Prince said and the slippered feet backed from his field of vision. KyuJong slowly raised from his bow and looked up. The man standing in front of him was shorter than him, but not much. His rich black hair was long and curled slightly, the ends just brushing shoulders.

 

The mask that dominated the man's face was silver, with a cluster of white feathers cascading down one side and a line of black stones set into it across the top. Being from the lower class, KyuJong knew that each of these things signified something, but didn't know what. It was the eyes that caught him though, the black depths peering out from behind the mask and he could barely tear his gaze from them.

 

"Yes, I think you will do perfectly," the Prince was smiling, a hint of dimples to his cheeks. "Have him readied and brought to my room, JungMin."

 

"Of course, sir," the servant to the side bowed and the Prince turned to walk away towards a hidden door at the back of the room, his long robes billowing and swaying with his every movement. KyuJong had barely remembered to bow as well until he felt a hand on his shoulder pushing him down. "Always bow when the Prince enters or leaves, that's rule number one," the servant hissed.

 

~~~~

 

KyuJong tried not to shift uncomfortably at the new fabric against his skin. It was silk after all, and although it felt good in a tactile sense, it was still a foreign feel. At least it was loose robe, and the pants weren't too snug. The slippers would be something he'd have to get used to though. It took a deal of effort to keep from sliding along the polished stone flooring.

 

The servant, JungMin, was leading him down the halls after he had been bathed, shaved and completely made over. He was trying to pay attention to what JungMin was telling him, but between keeping himself upright and fussing with the sash on his robe that kept threatening to open he missed some of the points the man had made.

 

"Lastly," JungMin said, whirling around and stopping front of a set of doors. KyuJong just barely stopped from crashing into the man. "You do not go anywhere without the Prince. The Prince does not go anywhere without you. Only exceptions will be at the King's discretion. Is this understood?"

 

"Yes, of course," KyuJong nodded, staring wide eyed at the man. He hadn't been sure what to expect of this arrangement, but from what he had picked up from JungMin's rules, he would be more or less the Prince's shadow from now on. A body double in public, and a personal servant in private. KyuJong would be the closest person to the Prince, an idea he hadn't exactly thought of before a few hours ago.

 

"You will be staying with him, in his rooms, I hope that will not be a problem?" JungMin mused lightly, his eyebrow quirked upward in question.

 

"Of course not, sir," KyuJong shook his head, swallowing loudly enough he was sure the maid at the far end of the hall had heard it.

 

"He is waiting," JungMin smiled, a flash of brilliant white teeth as he opened the door and all but pushed KyuJong in. Somehow, he managed to catch himself before he fell face first. His arms flailed at his sides a bit but once he was steady he stopped to look around. The room was huge, and KyuJong thought his entire house back home would have fit in the middle with room to spare.

 

There were overstuffed couches and giant fluffy pillows arranged on the floor. Tapestries and paintings were crammed onto every inch of the pale blue walls. Tables and desks and chairs filled empty spaces along walls and in corners. It didn't seem like there would be much room to walk around, but KyuJong was able to navigate around the haphazard collection of furniture without brushing in to anything.

 

On either side of the room there were doors on each wall, and KyuJong had no idea where he was supposed to go. The Prince wasn't in this room, was he supposed to meet him somewhere or wait here? After a moment of silent debate he moved to sit down on a chair that was pulled out from a table. He wasn't used to padded seats, but would have felt ridiculous sitting down on one of the couches though.

 

"Oh there you are," a voice said and KyuJong shot up out of the chair. Whirling around he blinked wide eyed at the Prince for a moment before remembering to bow. He heard a heavy sigh and slippered feet against the flooring came towards him. "I see JungMin has already regaled you with his rules. Please, you don't have to bow to me when we're alone." Blinking, KyuJong straightened back up.

 

The Prince had changed out of his long robes and was dressed in a simple cotton tunic and pants. The curly black hair was pulled back into a ponytail, giving his rounded cheeks a sleeker line. The mask was still on, and briefly KyuJong wondered if they always kept the mask on unless sleeping. "Yes, m'lord, I have been made aware of the rules," KyuJong said slowly, trying to keep his words as polite and sophisticated as he could.

 

"He's such a bother sometimes," the Prince sighed, shaking his head. "Whatever he told you, forget while we are alone together. I may be nobility but I'm still person. Please, sit," he motioned to one of the large couches. After a slight hesitation KyuJong moved to sit down, perching himself on the edge of a cushion. The Prince took a seat on the other end, tucking his feet up under him. "I want to be treated as a normal person KyuJong," the Prince smiled lightly at him. "In this room, we are friends. Or I would like to be. It is the least I can do for those that offer themselves so willingly to protect me."

 

"As you wish, m'lord," KyuJong nodded slowly, hesitantly returning the smile. It was easy to forget the rules that JungMin had told him, since he honestly hadn't heard them all in the first place. As far as he was concerned, he would take the Prince's lead in what he was supposed to be doing.

 

"YoungSaeng." The Prince said, his smile growing.

 

"Pardon?" KyuJong was startled, not quite sure what the other had said, or meant.

 

"My name, is YoungSaeng," the Prince repeated. "In this room, you will call me by my name. In fact, you will forget that I am a Prince, or royalty, or even nobility, in this room. Outside those doors I may be a Prince, but in here, I'm just a normal man, like yourself."

 

"Okay, YoungSaeng," KyuJong stammered the name out. Although he didn't feel it was appropriate, he couldn't go against a command from the Prince.

 

"Are you hungry? Would you like some tea?" YoungSaeng asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. There was a soft jingling sound and KyuJong noticed for the first time the small bells mounted on the feathers. So fixated on the bells he almost forgot to answer the question.

 

"Yes, tea would be nice," KyuJong started to get up from the couch but was stopped by YoungSaeng's hand on his arm. His heart froze in his chest at the touch, almost choking when his throat closed up. The Prince was touching him.

 

"We do not get our own refreshments here, there's servants for that," YoungSaeng laughed lightly and reached over the arm of the couch to pick up a large bell. He rang it twice and set it back down onto the table. "It will be a few minutes," YoungSaeng said, settling back into the couch. KyuJong could feel the Prince's eyes on him, but he wasn't sure what to do or say. "You look absolutely petrified," YoungSaeng laughed lightly and KyuJong looked up at him, smiling sheepishly.

 

"I just... I don't know what to do," KyuJong bowed his head and he heard a sigh from the Prince. "I'm sorry."

 

"No, you don't need to apologize. I'm the one who is sorry," YoungSaeng drew his legs out from under him to press against his chest, arms encircling to hold them. "You haven't adjusted yet."

 

"It's a little overwhelming is all," KyuJong nodded, raising his head up to look at YoungSaeng again. "I will do my best to become.. umm.." he fumbled for the word, a proper word. His country speech was too low class to be talking to a Prince. This would take some getting used to.

 

"Acclimated?" YoungSaeng supplied, nodding. "You don't have to use such formal speech to me KyuJong. Maybe that will help?"

 

"Maybe a stiff drink," KyuJong blurted out and immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, his eyes wide. That had not meant to be said out loud, and by now the Prince was probably reconsidering, thinking him a drunk. It took him by complete surprise when YoungSaeng's lips curled upward and he broke out in a laugh.

 

"That's not a bad idea KyuJong," he said cheerfully, nodding. "Later though, we still have dinner tonight to get through. Afterwards, we'll drink. I hope you can hold your liquor."

 

"If there's one thing us peasants can do, it's drink," KyuJong laughed a little, smoothing at his robe. "Not much else to do."

 

"Which isn't all that different from the nobility," YoungSaeng shrugged, still smiling. "Drink and gossip, and scheme."

 

"If I may be so bold, but you don't seem like a schemer," KyuJong said, hoping he could take such liberties. YoungSaeng had said it was okay, but his life did hang in the balance with this man. One wrong word and he'd be sent to the headsman.

 

"No, I am not a schemer," YoungSaeng chuckled. "I am merely trying to survive. Let the sycophants in court scheme and plot. I just want to be alive when I wake up." YoungSaeng saw the question in KyuJong's eyes and sighed. "I am the only heir, the last of our family line. If I were to die, or fail to produce an heir, the kingdom will be in upheaval at the power struggle. Likely a civil war as the highest houses make their claims to the throne. My life is merely a pawn at the moment."

 

"Hence, me," KyuJong nodded slowly, understanding the implications of what YoungSaeng was saying. The schemes of court rarely had much to do with the lower class, but a civil war would be disastrous. Landowners would force those working their property to fight for them, leaving fields untended for months, if not years. People would starve, and widespread famine would kill those that did not die in battle. All so a man could sit on the throne and wield power.

 

"I'll be honest with you KyuJong," YoungSaeng spoke softly, his tone serious. "There have been many attempts on my life this past year alone, and you are not the first mangto I have had this month, let alone year. You risk your life for me, and I wish you did not have to do so."

 

"My family," KyuJong said, raising his eyes to meet the Prince's, "is starving. The money I can send home to them is worth my life."

 

"I appreciate your honesty," YoungSaeng said, looking down at his knees. "It would be silly of me to think you would do this to save my life. I am not so silly to think that the lower class would be worried for my safety." KyuJong frowned, his brow creasing at YoungSaeng's words. It was true that the land workers rarely cared about the royalty, some could be hard pressed to know the King's name. What they did care about, was staying alive.

 

"I'm sorry if that sounded selfish," KyuJong said lightly. There was a knock at the door and a maid came in bearing a tray of food and drink. She set the tray down on the ottoman at their knees and bowed her way from the room.

 

"It's not selfish to be concerned about your families well being," YoungSaeng said. Before KyuJong had a chance to move, the Prince was leaning over to pour them both a cup of tea, handing KyuJong a cup. "I rather admire that sense of loyalty. I can't say I have the same feelings towards my own family."

 

"Do you not love your family?" KyuJong accepted the mug, silently chastising himself for allowing the Prince to have done that for himself. He sat back a little more comfortably on the couch, watching YoungSaeng.

 

"It's hard to love people you never see," YoungSaeng said, picking over the desserts on the tray before selecting one and nibbling at it. "I was for the most part raised by servants and nannies. I rarely if ever saw my parents. Even now we don't have the best of relationships."

 

KyuJong held on to his cup with both hands, staring down into the murky tea. While he had a great family who he loved dearly, he was sympathetic to the Prince's upbringing. His father worked the fields, and he quite often was gone for weeks at a time.

 

"I think that's enough depress talk for one introduction, don't you?" YoungSaeng was smiling at him again, and KyuJong couldn't help but smile back. "Tomorrow, we'll begin your etiquette training."

 

"Training?" KyuJong blinked at him. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, knowing that he was supposed to impersonate the Prince.

 

"Yes, training. There's going to be some ridiculous event soon that you'll be required to attend with me," YoungSaeng sighed, turning his head away. "So you will need to be ready by then."

 

"I see," KyuJong nodded and set the cup down after having only taken a few sips. "May I ask something?" he said, looking to the Prince for confirmation who nodded. "You take an awful risk," he started, and YoungSaeng was looking at him with his head tilted. "You know nothing about me, but yet I'm allowed to sit here with you unaccompanied What if I was an assassin?"

 

The Prince stared at him for a moment, and KyuJong couldn't make out his eyes beyond the mask but was surprised when he started to laugh. "Oh, did you really think JungMin would have let just anyone in my presence without thoroughly checking you out first? He knows where you live, what landowner you live under, and even your parents name. You, KyuJong, are as safe as they come, as am I for the moment."

 

Feeling like the wind had been knocked out of his sails, KyuJong smiled sheepishly and nodded. Of course. He likely wouldn't have been let in the front doors if he had been suspected as an assassin. They took great care to keep their Prince safe.

 

Once the tea was finished, YoungSaeng showed him around his apartments. The two doors along the right wall were a study and a washroom, complete with a porcelain clawed foot tub that looked like he could swim laps in. The three doors on the other wall were bedrooms, each as opulent as the last.

 

"The last door, is my room," YoungSaeng said, standing in front of it. "You may choose whichever of the other two you wish, I have no preference." KyuJong chose the middle room, he had liked the color the walls; a rich green as opposed to the pink of the first. YoungSaeng had laughed at that and agreed, his room had been blue.

 

It was nearing time for dinner and YoungSaeng was helping him to prepare. In the washroom he opened a cabinet that had an array of masks. From a simple silver to one as elegant as the one the Prince wore. YoungSaeng selected one identical to his and held it up to KyuJong. "This will be yours. It is almost identical to mine, just with a minor difference."

 

"What is it?" KyuJong said, turning the mask over in his hand to look at it. He couldn't see anything different from the Prince's. YoungSaeng flipped it over to reveal the inside was a plain black fabric.

 

"My mask has a purple lining," he said with a laugh that KyuJong joined in with. YoungSaeng helped him fit the mask and secure it to his face. The Prince's thin hands brushed against KyuJong's skin and he couldn't help but notice how soft they were. In comparison his own were dry and calloused, every bit a working man's hands. He clenched his hands unconsciously, embarrassed about how awful they probably looked. After a few minor adjustments, and YoungSaeng fiddling with his hair that had been cut and dyed to match the Prince's, he was ready. "There, how does that feel?"

 

"Weird," KyuJong said, reaching up to touch the mask but his hands were immediately swatted away.

 

"Don't touch the mask, ever," YoungSaeng chided, stepping back to admire his handiwork with a nod.

 

"How can you wear this all the time? I think I'd go batty," KyuJong frowned, turning to look at himself in the mirror. He blinked repeatedly at what he was seeing and how closely he resembled the Prince. There were minor differences of course, but a cursory glance would make it hard to differentiate.

 

"You get used to it, in time," YoungSaeng shrugged, stepping up beside him. The Prince was slightly shorter, but not enough to be concerned with.

 

"Do you, ever take it off?" KyuJong asked, looking at him in the mirror.

 

"Of course I do," YoungSaeng's laugh was sweet, as if the question was absurd. "I usually don't wear it around my rooms, but it was easier to just leave it on between the interviews and dinner." YoungSaeng turned from the mirror and left the bathroom, KyuJong trailing a step behind. "It's time for me to get dressed to go, as my personal companion you will be expected to help."

 

"Yes, of course," KyuJong said immediately. He'd never helped another man dress before, and was a little nervous at the prospect. YoungSaeng on the other hand did not seem perturbed, and likely was used to someone else dressing him. They were in the Prince's bedroom by then and YoungSaeng was pulling off his tunic.

 

"The closet over there," YoungSaeng pointed before pulling down his pants. KyuJong tried not to turn red as he immediately turned his back and went to the closet, opening up the doors. "Pick whichever you like, it's just dinner." KyuJong had never seen so many clothes in his life, and the closet seemed to stretch forever. He barely restrained himself from running his hands all over the fabrics, a mix of sheer and shiny and silky. Not knowing what to look for, he grabbed the first thing he found and turned back to the Prince.

 

Considering he had no idea what he was doing, he was pleased that he managed to get the Prince dressed without too much of a hassle. The amused laughter from YoungSaeng was not helping, but he did his best. It was with considerable effort that he did not blush or tremble at the sight of the Prince , focusing on his task.

 

"Nice choice," YoungSaeng was looking in the mirror, smoothing down the robe. "I think we are ready for dinner then." He took KyuJong's arm and lead him from the room and to the main doors to the apartment. "Most often I take my dinner here, but my father insisted that we have dinner together tonight. He always wants to check my selections for himself. My mother will most likely be drunk halfway through the meal, so don't pay attention to her." YoungSaeng shook his head, letting KyuJong's arm go when they reached the doors. "After about twenty minutes I'm going to complain of a headache and retire, that's the easiest way to make our escape."

 

"Oh, okay," KyuJong nodded, startling himself with the sound of the bell above his ear jingling. "Is there anything else I should know before?"

 

"Just follow my lead," YoungSaeng grinned, the dimples back against his cheeks. "You'll be fine. No one expects you to get this right on the first day, and since it's just the family and the servants tonight, it's okay to make mistakes. Just don't remove your mask."

 

"I can remember that," KyuJong smiled, nodding with a jingle. YoungSaeng opened the door and didn't seem surprised at seeing JungMin on the other side.

 

"Your Highness," JungMin bowed and YoungSaeng fell in step behind JungMin once the taller man had begun to walk down the hall. "Has he performed acceptably so far?" JungMin asked, glancing over his shoulder at KyuJong.

 

Bristling at the look, KyuJong kept his mouth shut and waited for YoungSaeng to reply. "Of course JungMin. You know that you don't have to worry when it comes to selections."

 

"If you say so," JungMin said, turning back to the front. They walked down endless corridors and turned so many corners that if her had been by himself he would have been lost for hours. When they finally arrived at the dining hall, JungMin opened the doors, disappearing into another room once they were settled in their seats.

 

While he had been expecting one of those long dinner tables he had heard of, this looked much the same as the table his family had back home. The wood was polished, and the dishes were silver, but otherwise it would have been just another dinner at home. KyuJong was shown a seat across the table from YoungSaeng and the two of them waited patiently until the King and Queen arrived.

 

Dinner was probably one of the strangest moments he had been witnessed to in his life. YoungSaeng's mother, the Queen, was beautiful and polite, and the epitome of social grace when she had entered the room. After five glasses of wine and merely pecking at her plate of food to "keep her figure" she'd 'whispered' to KyuJong, she was three sheets to the wind drunk. Every time the King spoke there was a snorting noise from his wife, and after ten minutes her maids were helping her out of the chair and from the room.

 

The King on the other hand, was all serious glowers in KyuJong's direction. Even after the Queen had left he said hardly more than two words that weren't rule after rule about being a servant to the household. Every other sentence was about duty and obligation and loyalty.

 

Through it all, YoungSaeng ate in silence, hiding a smile behind a napkin or a glass so that only KyuJong could see. After twenty minutes, as if on cue, YoungSaeng spoke aloud that he had a headache and was retiring. KyuJong couldn't have been more grateful to leave a room, despite the good food that had been set before him.

 

Once back in the Prince's quarters and they were alone, KyuJong let out a huge sigh of relief as he felt the tension completely drop from his shoulders. Sitting down on one of the couches, he leaned back into the cushion and looked up toward the ceiling. He had no idea how people put up with that sort of thing every day, and frankly didn't want to have to do it for some time. YoungSaeng was laughing softly and he felt the couch dip next to him as the Prince took a seat.

 

"So those were my parents," he was still laughing, and KyuJong turned his head to the side as best he could with the mask still attached. "Aren't you glad you don't have to go through that every night? I know I am."

 

"That was... interesting to say the least," KyuJong laughed as well. He was glad that it was over, and that he could relax and think on what had happened already today.

 

"I bet you want to take that off now, don't you," YoungSaeng said softly, motioning to the mask. KyuJong nodded and reached up to pull it away. He was more than a little shocked to feel YoungSaeng's hands on his cheeks, helping. Once it was off and set down on a table, YoungSaeng was already moving to remove his, and KyuJong almost felt as if he should turn away so as not to see the man's face. He couldn't though, stuck watching as the pins were pulled and the silver mask was coming away in the Prince's hand.

 

KyuJong swallowed roughly as YoungSaeng turned to look at him. Those rounded cheeks and plump lips were still the same, the dark eyes still as captivating, and the high bridged nose still as prominent, but with the mask gone and he could see the man fully it was like he was seeing the Prince for the first time.

 

Abruptly he caught himself staring and looked away with a tight smile, trying not to blush. The Prince was probably the most handsome man he had ever seen in his life.

 

"So, what shall we do now?" YoungSaeng asked, setting his mask down as well. "I for one would like to change into something more comfortable."

 

"Yes, something comfortable," KyuJong frowned, looking down at his robes. The thought struck him though that there was nothing for him to wear. He was sure the clothes he had been wearing were tossed by then.

 

"Ah, there's a problem isn't there," YoungSaeng was standing up and KyuJong watched him walk away towards his bedroom. Not knowing what else to do he followed after the Prince. "JungMin thinks of everything, except for clothes. We'll find you something to wear of mine until we can have some proper attire made." YoungSaeng had disappeared into the closet at that point, he emerged with a folded set of clothes in his hands. "Here, these might fit, they're a little big on me."

 

"Thank you," KyuJong took the clothes with a bow and started to leave the room. With a start he remembered that he would have to see to the Prince's needs before his own. Setting the clothes down on a table he turned back to the see the Prince was already disrobing. "Oh, I... should..." he stumbled over his words and YoungSaeng looked up at him with a smile.

 

"It's fine, I can dress myself," YoungSaeng said, motioning to the clothes. "Go ahead, change. I'll have some drink brought up for us." He said, pulling up his pants. KyuJong stared blankly for a minute, the Prince was pulling the tunic over his torso and KyuJong had to look away, the blush evident. Snagging the clothes off the table, he padded out of the room and went into what was now his, closing the door behind him. Letting out a sigh of relief, he leaned against the door and let himself relax.

 

Dressing in the tunic and pants, KyuJong did indeed feel better and more comfortable now that he was out of the finery. He couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed though, with everything that had happened in the past day. Amazed at his own good fortune, he was sure that he would wake up in the morning in his own bed and all of this would have been just a very nice dream. Some part of him believed that, but it was obvious that no, this was not a dream.

 

Finished dressing, he went back out into the sitting area where YoungSaeng was seated on a couch, his hair pulled back and his legs curled up under him again. A book he had procured from nowhere was settled in his lap. He looked up and smiled at KyuJong, closing the book and setting on the table. "Drinks should be here soon," he said, patting the couch next to him for KyuJong to sit. "Now that the pressure is off, let's chat."

 

Sitting down next to him, KyuJong cleared his throat a little nervously, not sure chat to say. he was looking down at the masks on the table, considering them. "What does your mask mean?" he blurted out before he could catch himself.

 

"Mean?" YoungSaeng asked, puzzled by what he was asking. "Oh! You mean what does it say about me?" YoungSaeng picked up his mask and held it in his hands. "Silver is the color of the throne. My father wears gold, my mother white. If I had siblings, say a sister, she would wear red. If I had a brother, he would wear purple," he frowned slightly looking up at KyuJong. "The colors are a little complicated, forgive me."

 

"No, it's okay, I think I understand," KyuJong said with a laugh. He did sort of understand the color scheme. "Your father and you are the only ones who are allowed to wear gold and silver, I'm guessing."

 

"Yes, the colors of royalty," YoungSaeng nodded, a pleased smile. "The black stones along here, are my age, each stone being a year. Black because of the year I was born. The feathers..." YoungSaeng faltered, touching the white down with unsure fingers. "The feathers mean I am of marrying age... they are white to say I am untouched."

 

"What do the bells mean?" KyuJong asked, curious at how YoungSaeng's expression had changed.

 

"The bells? The bells say I am looking for a wife," YoungSaeng said softly. He set the mask back down on the table and promptly ignored it.

 

"A wife?" KyuJong smiled at him, unsure of what the reaction YoungSaeng was having meant. "Does that mean you will be marrying soon?"

 

"That is the intent," YoungSaeng nodded. The main door had opened and a maid was carrying in a tray with a bottle and glasses. She set the tray on the table and left just as quickly. "So, let's see how well you drink," YoungSaeng was back to his jovial spirit and reaching for the bottle.

 

After several unending glasses, KyuJong was well passed the point of tipsy, as was YoungSaeng. The awkwardness KyuJong had felt around the Prince was slowly disappearing. It wasn't hard to like the Prince, he was kind and thoughtful, completely different from the perception he had had of the nobility. How YoungSaeng had grown up to be the way he was was somewhat of a mystery, especially considering the man's parents.

 

KyuJong was relieved in a way, that he could become friends with YoungSaeng so easily. There was something about the inviting personality that KyuJong was grateful for. It would make his time here, however long or short it may be, bearable.

 

"KyuJong," YoungSaeng's words were slurring, and the glass he held up was dangerously close to tipping over onto the floor. "Tell me, honestly, my parents, are s, right?"

 

Snickering behind his glass, KyuJong knew well enough that despite what he really felt there was no way he could say such a thing out loud. "You know I can't agree with that," KyuJong said, shaking his head from side to side. "They are...." he trailed off, searching for a word.

 

"s," YoungSaeng supplied, a grim look on his otherwise slack expression. "It's okay, you don't have to say it. I know exactly what you're thinking. My mother, is a drunk, who nicks liquor from the kitchens against my father's orders. My father, is a selfish prig, who cares more about loyalty, and duty than real feelings." That wild waving motion YoungSaeng was doing with his arms did it, and the glass went flying from his hand and tumbled onto the floor.

 

For a moment, they both stared at where the glass had fallen, the liquid seeping into the rug under their feet. YoungSaeng turned to look at KyuJong, his eyes wide, before he made a strangled snorting noise in his throat and they both fell over laughing. YoungSaeng had fallen, draped over KyuJong's lap and was rolling, holding his belly with tears streaming down his face. It took a few minutes for KyuJong to register what was going on as he stared down at the Prince; drunk and pressing his face against KyuJong's belly as he laughed.

 

It was at that moment where KyuJong snapped to attention and his eyes went wide. It was one thing for him to be close to the Prince, it was a completely different story for the Prince to be draped across his lap. A fact in which he was uncomfortably aware of, despite how he didn't mind the contact. After a long tense moment, YoungSaeng managed to get his arms under him and pushed himself up. Hair in complete disarray, and still far too drunk to comprehend, YoungSaeng grinned at him.

 

"KyuJong, I think it is time for bed," YoungSaeng said, swiveling his head to look down at the glass on the floor. "Especially since I just threw my drink away."

 

"Yes, bed, sleep, good," KyuJong mumbled, nodding his head.

 

"KyuJong, help me to bed," YoungSaeng was trying to stand but his legs wobbled and he crashed back down onto the sofa.

 

"Of course," KyuJong wasn't completely sober, but enough that he could stand without falling over. He helped the Prince to stand, and they tottered together towards YoungSaeng's room. Drawing back the covers on the bed, KyuJong helped the Prince into bed, pulling off his slippers and tucking him in.

 

"KyuJong?" YoungSaeng held his hand out to him, and KyuJong hesitated before taking it lightly. He didn't expect the rough tug on his arm though and toppled over onto the bed. Squeaking in dismay as he tried to clamber back off, YoungSaeng wasn't letting go of his hand. "KyuJong, would you stay here?" YoungSaeng was mumbling, his eyes half closed as he smiled drunkenly. "It's always so lonely here, and this is such a big bed."

 

The immediate reaction KyuJong had was to say no, that he would return to his own room and climb into his own bed and they would see each other in the morning. But looking into YoungSaeng's eyes, he couldn't bring himself to decline and just nodded dumbly. "If that's what you want," he managed to get out and YoungSaeng smiled brighter at that.

 

"Thank you KyuJong," YoungSaeng's words were lost in the garble of his tongue. KyuJong decided to wait until the Prince was asleep before he would slide out of bed and go back to his own room. Stretching out on the bed, KyuJong considered the hand that was holding his own in a tight grip. They were the softest hands he had ever felt, softer than the girls back home. Even looking up at the sleeping face of the Prince, there was a feminine line to the man's features. Nothing was too hard, or too angled.

 

Shaking his head, KyuJong looked away and up at the ceiling. He shouldn't be having such thoughts, not about a man, and especially not his sovereign. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of other things. Not that he was laying in the bed of a man he had just met. Not that their hands were clasped together, and not that he had to fight the urge to shift closer to the sleeping Prince.