It was not much late in the night, though the castle seemed to have fallen to rest. The castle staff had been wrapping up their duties a bit earlier than usual as their King had retired to his chambers early as well. The lamps had been dimmed, the windows closed, the fires in the rooms now no longer in use had been extinguished. Taemin was walking in the open corridors, his gaze falling on the military quarters to the right of him, across the posterior grounds. He halted for a moment, but there was no hesitation in his eyes. He took a deep breath before he continued on his path again.

No one questioned his steps into the quarters. They would only assume he was here to check on his knight’s health. The soldiers made way for him, one led him through to Jongin’s room. Taemin knocked when the soldier had excused himself and entered without waiting for any sound of approval from the other side. As the door softly closed behind him, his eyes found Jongin in the dim chamber, still awake, resting against the headboard of his bed. He had been listlessly staring at a portrait in the wall front of him, the slight agitation in him evident from the constriction between his brows. The fire was crackling loudly to warm the room as his upper body was bare, to not disturb his wound. Taemin’s eyes followed his bandages, from his shoulder to around his entire torso. He took a step and Jongin did not respond to the sound of his boots, like the same way he had not responded to either the knock or Taemin entering and closing the door. Only when Taemin was closer did he turn his gaze on him and only to lower it the next moment.

Taemin sat on the end of the bed, the words he came to spoke were at his throat, but the air… the air full of Jongin’s silence was heavy… stifling. He did not know how to let them loose. Jongin finally broke the silence between them, unable to bear its tension.

"I was in the wrong." He whispered, "I had no right to inculpate you or the King. My intention was not as such... yet..." He took a breath, his face finally revealing his ache, "I was just angry, I was very angry, Taemin. I cannot see us end. I would rather throw my life away because not having you makes it no less than a hell. I won't be able to learn to live without you. I have tried, I have tried so hard these past days. I just can't."

Taemin was silent for long before he sighed, "You can and you will."

His words aggravated Jongin, “How could you say that, Taemin?!” He fumed, “I will not, I will not even think about a life without you. Stop denying it, spare me, spare yourself, Taemin. When you cannot even say that you no longer love me–”

“I do not.”

Jongin stopped short at his soft words and Taemin repeated himself.

“I do not love you.”

Jongin’s face fell, “Lies.”

“I am looking you in the eye.” Taemin whispered, his eyes boring into Jongin’s, his face humorless, “I no longer love you.”

"It cannot be.” Jongin let out a shaky laugh, “It cannot be unless…” He swallowed, his eyes raging, “It was him, wasn’t he? I don’t know what he did, but he has you entirely under his influence… there can be no way you will deny your heart like this or refuse to see how easy it is for us to leave everything behind– that bastard of a King, he–”

Taemin got up right then, irate at Jongin's words, "You are disrespecting the King. One more word and I will have you charged for treason."

Jongin scoffed, "Yes, of course, I should have known," He arrogantly mumbled to himself, "Is it the myriad riches he is adorning you in?” He tugged at Taemin’s velvet coat before moving his grip to Taemin’s hand, adorned with many rings, “You must be bathing in pearls, judging from how this castle is thrice the size of your father’s,” He slowly raised his gaze upon finding Taemin silent, his gaze meeting Taemin’s livid eyes, “Or perhaps, it really is true that physical relations shift affections. Just how well does he you that–”

There was a resounding sound that halted his words, the sound of Taemin freeing himself from Jongin’s grip and slapping him across the cheek, fuming, trembling, disgusted at what Jongin had become. This was not him, this was not the man he knew, he fell in love with. He was so bitter, he was making Taemin’s heart so bitter. So rueful.

"I have tolerated your insolence long enough,” Taemin whispered, his voice was alarming, his eyes were riled, hurtful, “I had only come here to ask you to leave. But now I command it." Taemin breathed, shaking, "Leave before dawn, otherwise, I will have you sent back in a cage, with a scroll that will ensure that the rest of your life becomes actual hell."

Taemin turned and left, leaving Jongin biting back his anger, before he turned away as well, taking his anger out on the drawer to his side, tears leaving him as the sounds of fallen utensils drowned the sound of Taemin’s departing footsteps.

Minho woke at dawn, blinking as his senses shook off slumber. His thoughts settled immediately on what transpired last night and he slowly looked to his side. He sighed on finding the space as empty as it had been last night, yet he dwelled on it no more and decided to get up and get ready for court. He stepped out into the balcony, pulling over his warm, velvet robe. No matter how the weather was, this was his routine, to take in some of the morning fresh air, to enjoy the view of his castle, the quiescence of it yet to be perturbed. His eyes settled on the central grounds, growing slightly dismal as he remembered the duel, the bleeding knight.

Green eyes that gave away everything.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds before he took a deep breath, opening his eyes and letting his eyes roam around the grounds slowly, his gaze flickering when it settled on the quartet table in the garden adjacent to the grounds. Gathered in the chair, wrapped in a quilt that was almost falling off his shoulders, was Taemin. He seemed to be asleep in the chair, his legs crossed, his entire figure huddled inside the quilt.

The Chamberlain had knocked and entered with a tray of tea. His eyes settled on the bedstead, noticing Taemin’s absence, yet he placed the tray on the small table between the armchairs and poured a cup before bringing it to Minho in the balcony.

“Your Majesty, your morning tea.”

“I will have it outside, Kibum,” Minho responded, his gaze still stuck ahead.

“But, Your Majesty, it is–” Minho turned away and left the balcony in a rush and the Chamberlain’s gaze settled on what Minho had obstructed in his view, “– cold.”  His eyes widened but he did not linger anymore in his spot. He gathered the tea tray and rushed out himself behind the King.

Minho was flushed due to his sprint, due to the cold air hitting him brutally as he waded against it. His steps softened as he grew closer to where Taemin was seated and after assuring he was indeed asleep and not unwell, his mien relaxed. He took the rest steps between the table and him and took his seat, the sound of him dragging the chair waking Taemin up.

The Chamberlain joined them soon, having bought another set of crockery for Taemin. He began serving both of them and Taemin was silent, just staring at the steaming cup set before him, not able to meet Minho’s eyes, unsure of what to say to the man seated opposite to him. Unsure… if he even had any right to, after having his treachery caught by him.

But Minho’s gaze was on him, waiting for him to raise his gaze. Which on