Chanyeol

 

The night of the ball came too quickly and Chanyeol dressed with great excitement. There were three in the series of masquerades in celebration of his father’s birthday and he had caught glimpses of the ballroom occasionally when he passed it, the servants hard at work.

 

He was sure it would be beautiful as he was helped into his outfit, a silver blazer that shimmered as if it had been sewn with stars. His coppery hair was combed back and a silver circlet woven into it.

 

He could hardly stay still as the servants painted rouge on his face, lining his eyes with kohl to make them pop.  Rings were slipped onto his fingers and Chanyeol stepped into sturdy black boots that the servants laced up.

 

A silver chain was clasped around his throat and his manservant appeared by the door, bearing a red cushion.

 

Upon it, sat Chanyeol’s mask for the night.  It was made of silver, handcrafted to conform to the curves of his face perfectly. White feathers stuck out from one end, woven into place and secured almost invisibly. The filigree was so fine, so delicate that Chanyeol hardly dared to touch it.

 

There were three made, for all three different balls and they had been kept a secret from him up till this moment and if the first one was already this beautiful,  Chanyeol could hardly imagine what the others would look like.

 

His mother appeared in the doorway just as the servant was securing the mask around his head.

 

“Oh, Chanyeol! You look dashing!”

 

Her hands were cool against his cheeks and Chanyeol could not help the smile that lit up his face.

 

“The mask is beautiful, Mother,” he said, rising to greet her. He had to bend to press kisses against her cheeks, he was so much taller than her now.

 

“You’ll be the center of everyone’s attention, tonight,” the queen his cheek tenderly, her gaze fond and Chanyeol laughed.

 

“You have to say that because you’re my mother,” he teased, offering her his arm, revelling in her laughter as she took it.

 

The ballroom was indeed beautiful, the lights gleaming as the sun spilled the last of its rays into the room, tainting it in blush pink light.

 

Chanyeol danced for a while, smiling at every maiden and man that came his way. He had yet to find anyone who had caught his eye enough that he would like to get to know better but there certainly was no shortage of eye candy.

 

He was standing by the banquet table, sipping rosé from a champagne flute made from cut crystal when he saw her.

 

The lady was fair, her cheeks dusted a rosy pink. He golden curls bounced as she was twirled on the dance floor. Chanyeol caught a glimpse of her shoes as she danced past and they shone, reflecting light like glass.

 

Intrigued, Chanyeol drained his glass, mustering the courage to steal her from her partner.

 

The man was obliging and the girl blushed prettily when he kissed her hand.

 

“Prince Chanyeol, at your service,” Chanyeol was gratified when the lady flicked open her fan, fluttering it about her face shyly. He laced their fingers together, setting his hand on her slender waist as the orchestral struck up a new song, a slow waltz.

 

“What’s your name?” He asked as he spun her. The lady dropped her eyes when they pressed up close, the corner of her lips quirking as she spoke.

 

“Luna,” she breathed and Chanyeol twirled her again, enchanted.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he murmured.

 

The ballroom lights reflected off her eyes as they danced, as blue as the sky on a clear day.

 

Chanyeol felt his heart skip a beat when she lowered her lashes shyly, a soft blush rising on her cheeks.

 

Here was a girl he did not mind getting know.

 

Jongdae

 

The tower was much farther than he had expected. They had leapt over multiple streams, rode through some thickets and spooked multiple squirrels before arriving at its base.

 

It appeared suddenly, grey stone peeking out as Jongdae rode past a tree line. He pulled Su Eun to a stop, gaping at the spiralling structure.

 

It was all grey stone, blocks of it so close together that there was no gap. A balcony of red wood peeked over the top, lined with purple and yellow flowers and emerald green ivy.

 

Jongdae dismounted, dropping the reins in front of Su Eun’s nose with a firm “stay.”

 

The stone was cold against his skin when he touched it but warmed quickly, far too quickly.

 

He withdrew his hand, frowning at he circled the tower.

 

There was no door.

 

Su Eun was munching away at the bright green grass as he circling the tower once more, trailing his hand over the stones, hoping to find any way to enter it.

 

The horse lifted its head and snorted in shock, stumbling back when the stones rumbled, beginning to shift in their places.

 

Jongdae jerked back, his eyes widening as the stones rearranged themselves, a single stone sliding back to reveal a silver doorknob.

 

Without thinking, he reached for it, turning it once.

 

The tower shuddered and a doorway appeared, more stones making up a very, very long staircase.

 

Jongdae stared at the doorway in awe. He certainly was not expecting that.

 

Glancing back to make sure that there was no one around, he stepped into the doorway and started his ascent of the stairs.

 

It was a long way up and Jongdae was panting by the time he arrived at another door, presumably at the top of the tower.

 

He paused to catch his breath and the door knob jiggled, as if someone on the inside was trying to open it.

 

There was a soft curse and the doorknob stopped moving.

 

Gingerly, the prince turned the knob, half expecting it to be locked, but the door gave easily, swinging open to reveal a young man standing on the other side, staring at him in shock.

 

“Who are you?!”

 

The man had light blonde hair, his skin as fair as snow and he was standing in a defensive stance, every one of his muscles tense.

 

Jongdae held up his hands, palms out.

 

“I mean no harm,” he said softly, as if trying to calm a skittish horse. The man was looking at him up and down, his expression flickering between fear and confusion.

 

“That door was locked. How did you open it?” He asked and Jongdae shrugged.

 

“I don’t know. I just turned it,” he explained and the man looked even more disconcerted.

 

“Were you the one who made it appear? It’s never been there before.”

 

Jongdae thought about the tower shaking, the stones rearranging themselves to open up for him and nodded slowly.

 

“It may have been me,” he said and the man exhaled.

 

“Is there- Is there a way out?” His time was hopeful and Jongdae looked down at the flight of stairs.

 

“I think so?”

 

The man looked around him and Jongdae looked with him.

 

The room they were in was a very nice room, much larger than the exterior of the tower had let on.

 

There were large windows that had been pushed open and golden sunlight poured in, filling the room with warm light.

 

The sheer curtains fluttered in the breeze, the drapes by the four poster bed waving as well.

 

There was a table and a bookshelf filled to the brim with books.

 

But what was the most amazing thing about the room were the paintings.

 

The walls were covered in them, massive murals painted with landscapes so realistic that Jongdae could almost smell the mountain air just by looking at one.

 

Every colour, every was full of life and beautiful.

 

“Did you paint those?” He gaped, pointing at the walls and the mystery man nodded.

 

He walked towards the table and picked up a roll of things that Jongdae had not noticed before.

 

“I had a lot of time on my hands,” he explained, brown eyes sad.

 

Jongdae felt a wave of sympathy wash over him like a tidal wave. That explained a lot of things.

 

The man had been a prisoner of some sort. It explained why the tower had no door, and why the room he had lived in had no door either.

 

“Why were you locked up here?” He asked, hoping that he would not offend the man. He did not think he looked very dangerous, with his soft eyes and petal pink lips.

 

“For my safety,” the man replied, huffing a little and Jongdae raised an eyebrow, “or so I was told.”

 

He held out his hand.

 

“I’m Pri- Jongdae. I’m Jongdae.”

 

It would be best to keep his status a secret. Not many people would turn down an opportunity to extort money from a royal family, even a man as sweet looking as him.

 

And his parents were sure to have more than enough on their plate, with Joonmyun’s impending curse.

 

Jongdae shook the thoughts of his brother off, turning his attention back to the man, who had packed some things into a little black satchel.

 

“I’m Baekhyun.”

 

His hand was soft and warm as he took Jongdae’s offered hand and they hurried down the steps together.

 

As if he had heard them coming Su Eun whinnied a greeting as they ran out of the tower, and into open air.

 

Jongdae turned when Baekhyun laughed, smiling to see the man with his face turned up to the sun, his bare feet treading on the grass.

 

“I didn’t think I would ever feel this again!” Baekhyun cheered, his satchel bouncing against his hip as he spun in a circle, his arms flung wide.

 

Jongdae found himself wrapped up in Baekhyun’s simple pleasure, the sweet scent of green grass filling his nostrils as he walked over to Su Eun, petting and praising him gently for staying put.

 

A blackbird swooped down from the air and Baekhyun stretched out his hand, singing a soft melody to it.

 

His voice was enchantingly beautiful and the bird seemed to think so as well as it alighted upon his wrist, singing its little heart back to him.

 

“We should go. Before your captor returns,” Jongdae swung into the saddle, holding out his hand for Baekhyun to take.

 

Su Eun snorted a greeting and Baekhyun turned to him, his eyes alight with happiness.

 

The blackbird flew off his wrist to perch upon Su Eun’s head as he took the prince’s hand and Jongdae pulled him into the saddle.

 

Jongdae felt his heart warm a little inside when delicate hands settled around his waist and Baekhyun pressed himself close to his back.

 

“Where shall we go?” He asked. He had no plans but he thought Baekhyun might have some idea, being shut up in the tower all these years, of what he wanted to see.

 

Su Eun tossed his head as he turned him back into the forest, Baekhyun silent as he thought.

 

“I’d like to find out where I came from,” he admitted softly, “I don’t remember much about my life before I came to the tower.”

 

His satchel rattled as Su Eun trotted back into the shade of the forest, Baekhyun rummaging through it to pull out his paint brushes, turning them so that Jongdae could see the tiny symbol etched into the handle of the wood.

 

“These were the only things my- my mother took from my old home.”

 

Jongdae squinted at the symbol, brows narrowing at Baekhyun’s hesitation when he said ‘mother.’

 

The symbol was a dove, circled with a letter ‘B’ that looked strangely familiar. But Jongdae could not put his finger on where he could have seen such a thing before.

 

“The forest will guide us,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster.

 

Surely the forest had its own plan for them, no matter where they decided to go.

 

Chanyeol

 

The girl, Luna, was funny and quirky, prone to pulling out her fan to flutter about her face when she was bashful. And she was bashful a lot.

 

Chanyeol knew he should have felt bad for monopolising her, he could see many other suitors lingering on the edges of the dance floor, their eyes burning into his back as he led her through dance after dance. But he could not find it in him to care.

 

She was a lovely dancer, graceful and light on her feet. And when she tired of dancing, she consented to hiding away in one of the balconies to just talk.

 

“My Father is only an earl, milord,” she murmured, the sequins in her dress glittering like stars. All that dancing had made her flush and to Chanyeol’s surprise, she had pulled a ribbon from a hidden pocket of her dress, winding her long golden curls up into a high ponytail.

 

She had blushed and stuttered an apology when she realised what she had done but Chanyeol was even more enchanted.

 

A woman who cared more for her own comfort than what others thought of her? It was a very brave stance.

 

“Ah,” Chanyeol nodded, his large hand covering hers on the railing. Behind her mask, she had the loveliest blue eyes.

 

He could not stop staring, desperately wishing he was brave enough to ask that she remove her mask. But that was too forward, mildly inappropriate and completely defeated the purpose of having a masquerade.

 

“You are the prince, are you not? Prince Chanyeol?”

 

Chanyeol blinked in surprise. He touched his mask, slightly shocked that his cover had been blown so easily.

 

As if sensing the question in his mind, Luna smiled.

 

“Your stature is difficult to miss, milord,” she assured him and it was Chanyeol’s turn to flush, “and the queen had been watching us all evening.”

 

“Oh,” the prince could not think of anything else to say to that.

 

He changed the subject quickly.

 

“Do you travel much? I’ve not heard of your family name in our circles. Perhaps you are from another kingdom?”

 

Luna pursed her lips, as if displeased. It had taken much to wrangle a family name out of her, something necessary if Chanyeol intended to pursue her and she was reluctant to talk about her family.

 

"We come from a faraway land, Your Highness. I do not expect you to have heard of us," she replied curtly and Chanyeol knew it was time to stop asking. His belly tingled, a little part of him whispering that something did not seem right but he was far too enamoured by her to pay much notice.

 

"What do you enjoy then, in your spare time?" He asked hurriedly, relief filling his chest when he saw the tense lines in her face relax and she smiled.

 

"I sew, milord. Dresses and things. Embroidery is enjoyable too," the answer surprised him for as far as he knew, noblewomen never sewed. They rarely worked with their hands. Rather, they preferred books or shopping, the rarer ones enjoyed horseriding.

 

"Well, that's interesting," he replied and Luna smiled back. As he took her hands in his, he could tell now that she must work very much with her hands as her fingers and palms were calloused and rough, as if the skin had been dried out.

 

He knew better than to say anything though, for that would have been utterly disrespectful.

 

"What about you, Your Highness, you look as if you spend a lot of time in the sun," eyes roving up and down his body brought a soft flush to his cheeks but Chanyeol straightened.

 

"I enjoy horseriding and fencing," he boasted and the lady laughed, her fan fluttering against her face.

 

"You look as if you do, milord," she teased and Chanyeol laughed with her, ending the night on that delightful note.

 

They agreed to meet again the next night if Chanyeol could identify her with her mask on, a challenge that he gleefully accepted.

 

The next night arrived so quickly that he hardly had time to get excited. Once again, the ballroom was full of strangers, all adorned in various masks and attires in the theme of the night.

 

Chanyeol paid no attention to any of the masks, his eyes focused on the shoes of all the dancers. He could remember the remarkable shoes the girl had been wearing the night before, slippers made of cut glass that reflected light.

 

She appeared draped in a black gown so tight that every curve could be seen, her blonde hair pinned up with a lace bonnet over her face. Her fan was lace as well, beautiful and lavish as she leapt onto the dance floor, so black that it seemed to all light from the room.

 

All eyes were upon her as Chanyeol went forward, bowing as he reached for her hand and the dance card dangling from her wrist.

 

With a flourish, he signed his name across all the blanks, ensuring that her time would be his for the entire night. His head was spinning as he took her hand, her painted lips a splash of red across her face. They were pressed up close as the other dancers took their places, the orchestra striking up a warm, sultry tango.

 

“How’d I do?” He asked, daringly brushing his lips against the curve of her ears. She drew away, laughing one hand wrapped tightly around his.

 

“I must say that I’m impressed, Your Highness,” she purred, all her earlier shyness melting away. Chanyeol dipped her back, the lights glinting off the black stone on her dress and his head throbbed for a moment. He nearly lost his grip, tugging her back to her feet just in time.

 

His vision swirled as he turned her, Luna completely at ease, unaware that he could have dropped her. The lights were too bright, the music too loud and his head was pounding so loudly that he could hear it in his ears. He staggered a little and saw her frown.

 

Chanyeol righted himself before smiling, beads of perspiration beginning to trickle down his hairline.

 

The ballroom was so hot, so stifling that he felt as if he could hardly breathe. But he was unable to let go of her hand, his eyes following her as she danced with him, twirling gracefully around the room. His feet were on autopilot as he led the dance, completely based on muscle memory as he fought with the overwhelming sensation that the room was spinning.

 

“You Highness?” Luna’s voice sounded as if she was underwater and Chanyeol realised belatedly that the music had stopped and they were on the edge of the dancefloor, close to the banquet table. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as the funny feeling went away and he could see clearly again.

 

“I’m fine,” he replied, fingers closing around the stem of the champagne glass that the nearest server handed to him.

 

Her brows were creased with concern as he sipped his drink, trying to calm his suddenly erratic heart. When he looked down at the floor, he could see the toes of her glass slippers peeking out from beneath her dress and it was enough to bring the nauseous feeling back into his stomach.

 

“Perhaps we should just… talk,” he said, his voice sounding strained even to his ears.

 

Luna frowned at him.

 

“But you signed my dance card,” she held out her wrist and Chanyeol’s stomach turned at the thought of dancing again.

 

“Well- I-,” he tried to explain but Luna was stiffening, her lips pressing into a pout and Chanyeol could not bear the thought of losing her to another man.

 

“Let’s dance then, shall we?” He offered her his elbow with a sigh, feeling the room begin to turn as the music started up again, Luna’s glass slippers glistening beneath the lights.