"Repeat after me, son:" The elder's voice is loud in his little ears, his eyes stern but the gentle touch on his son's shoulder reassures the little boy that he won't hurt him. "Respect and bite your tongue, for Royal Blood shall not be tainted." He says, slowly enough for the child to understand and nod his head, and to make out how to say each syllable, word by word. And although the child has yet to understand what his father is telling him, he engrains it into his memories, hammering the way his voice comes out of his father's throat and doesn't miss the stringency for a single second. 

"Now, you say it son, can you do that?" His father asks, only to be interrupted by the bedroom door opening, revealing the child's mother in a flowing gown and a plush cover of jewels and silk cascading down from her frame. His mother always exuded elegance, youthful yet quiet, however the sweetest and the brightest of them all. There was never a moment where he would be scared of his mother, but there was that one time where the boy had accidentally knocked into the porcelain mold just around the corner in the hallway. Either way, his mother forgave him, and repeated the same words to her son. The same words his father had just commanded him to repeat. 

"Oh pardon me, My King." His wife apologizes, noticing her son's quiet expression and her husband's gentle smile. "Was I interrupting?" She asks, only to have her husband shake his head with a small laugh. 

"No no, my dear." The King replies, turning back to their child's face, his eyes awaiting for the words of his parents. "I was just teaching our little boy the rule. Isn't that right, my child?" He asks, and their son is quick to nod his head, also smiling as he looks at his mother and father sharing laughs as they dote on him for being such a charismatic yet obedient child. Never have they ever felt so blessed to have him, and only wishes that he continues this way, knowing his is bound for great things. 

"Now, say it for your mother and father, can you do that?" His father turns back, his eyes encouraging and a small smile on his face. The boy is quick to smile as well, looking over at his mom and dad excitedly knowing that he will receive their praise for being so good. 

"Respect and bite your thongue, for Royal Blood shyall nyot be tainted!" The young prince exclaims back confidently, also giggling at the mere sight of his parents laughing and chuckling at him for his pronunciation. Not that they were teasing, but more so amused by how he could be such a jovial and shameless one at times. "Was it good, father?" The boy asks, prancing up and down, hoping that he has gained his father's pride, also looking at his mother and pleads the same question. 

The Queen smiles, also kneeling down beside her husband and placing a gentle kiss on the boy's head. "Yes, my boy. Remember those words, and you will never stray away from our love." She beams, her warm lips curling up and eyes glistening at how her son smiles, hugging the both of them and squealing giddily. 

"I won't ever forget it, mother!" He manages to say, and yet despite the slight mispronunciation in some of his words, his parents are more so happy, knowing that this young prince will grow up to be a fine, and soon one day, King. 

"Prince Byun! Your highness!" A maid from outside of the prince's room calls out, slightly knocking on the thick, mahogany doors adorned with golden handles and intricate carved designs. "The King and Queen ask for you presence in the Dining Hall. What shall I say to them?" She asks. 

The prince, still laying on his bed with the sheets over his body in a warm cocoon, heaves a sigh before slowly getting up and rubbing his eyes. "I shall meet them there." He replies, though his voice is quiet tired and groggy from having just woken up a few minutes ago. As he listens to the maid honor his words, the sound of her heels tapping against the polished floor fades whilst the male is still sitting, staring out into the void. 

Though the skies are blue and the lawn just outside his balcony is blooming with abundant flora, the prince's demeanor is still dazed. Whilst growing up, learning the ways of adults, and handling the jobs of being an important figure to not only his family but to the people in the entire Kingdom, the jovial and bright child within him has slowly faded into burnt candles' whispers of grey. The wax has hardened, and so has he, as a person. Yet the words still remain embedded within his head; to never disrespect and to always bite his tongue. He has learned to be patient, yet the pent words and thoughts he wanted to share became unbearable at times. The prince would lock himself in his chambers for hours, not bothering to respond to his father, and even the mother he loved so much as a boy. He has changed, and though the rule comes with good intentions, it ignores the freedom that came without the binding chains of responsibility. 

With one last sigh, he finally gets up, lazily putting on his abundance of clothes he must wear out in the Palace. The frills of his periwinkle shirt to the softened green coat buttoned with the finest of materials, the prince then proceeds to sluggishly put on his freshly washed and whitened trousers, making sure to tailor and fold any part necessary to suit his shoes, its simple leather browned to a fine glisten and tuned to his own tastes. At least that was something he had a say in, which he appreciated his mother and father for honoring. 

He lastly fixes his hair, not bothering much with his golden brown locks and making sure he is at least presentable. And without any further touch-ups, walks out of his chamber with a quiet shut of his door, the winding stairs taking him to the bottom of the staircase, where the maids and servants greeted him with the deepest bows. 

"Good morning, Your heighness." The all say in unified tongue, whilst the prince smiles and bows back respectfully as well. "Breakfast is being served in the Dining Hall. The King and Queen await your presence, Prince Byun." The head servant announces, and the male acknowledges them with another thankful bow, quietly gesturing for them to continue on with the work and duties they had to fulfill. He didn't want to take too much of their time, for he is merely just a smaller figure in the Palace. 

And soon enough, after walking through the hallway of hung portraits and paintings all adorned grandeur with crystal chandeliers and elegant fixtures, he finally sees his mother and father, sitting at the vast table, already set with the finest of lace placemats, fine silverware and clean and slick plates fresh from wash. The smell of the food made the prince hungry almost immediately, and with how beautifully the meals have always been presented and placed, he couldn't wait to prepare for the day by this. 

"Good morning, mother and father." He greets politely, still distant yet warm enough for the King and Queen to be pleased. 

"Good morning, Baekhyun." His mother smiles warmly, gesturing for him to take the seat beside where his parents had been sitting face to face. The plates and side dishes were already prepared and set as he has always seen them, at least slightly showing his excitement by nodding his head and smiling back at his mother and father. 

"Did you sleep alright, last night? The gardeners had to cut the bushes last night before the Duke of Ilhan visits today." His father asks. Baekhyun nods his head, picking up the fork and knife before cutting into his meal, not saying much after. "And by the way, please do stop by when he arrives. He has asked to at least see you, hoping you are still in good spirits." He continues, taking a sip from his glass and setting it back down. 

"Yes, father." Their son replies curtly, still not used to how short his replies have become over time and how he isn't much of the energetic young boy he was. And no matter how many times his parents would ask him about it, and what they could possibly do, Baekhyun is quick to close himself in, hiding underneath his repressed needs and quieting himself for disrespecting his parents was not an option. At first, his father was quite enraged by his defying behavior, quick to scold and harangue him until his mother intervened, assuring her husband that their child only asks for space. It took a while, but the mere memories of Baekhyun being so enthusiastic about the world and the wonders of being among a place of other people only haunt them, the nostalgia pricking at their hearts because they couldn't find that in him anymore. As if something had switched within the young prince, he immediately closed himself off, perhaps permanently locking that side of him up forever.

"My young son," The Queen calls out, reaching over to cover his hand with her own soft and gentle ones. "Be good, okay? Your father and I care for you." She says softly, noticing that her husband lifts his head from swallowing his food, looking over at him with saddened eyes. But he knows that his son cannot open himself any further, and with so pushes over the dread in his chest and clears his throat. He hates to do this, but for the sake of keeping peace, the King no longer brings the topic up with him, nor do they spend as much time as they had when Baekhyun was younger. 

"The servants will ask for you once it is high-noon. Your mother and I will met you there." His father says in a gruff voice, standing up from the table and bowing respectfully towards his wife. Yet, the Queen tries to stop him, but her timid nature hinders her from fully mediating the situation as she watches him walk further and further down the hall. 

The Queen sighs, looking back at Baekhyun's quiet chewing, and how his fork plays with the small bits of egg still left on his plate. 

"Baekhyun.. I hope you don't take your father's distance to heart.." She says quietly, her voice pleading in its hushed tone la