“You have improved a lot, Jongin,” Sehun praises. He smiles with pride at his husband, their hands together- his free one on Sehun’s hip.

“I have a very patient teacher,” Jongin chuckles. The prince shakes as they stop dancing but their hands stay connected.

“You are a fast learner. And now you will not look like a fool during festivals and other dances. But beside me, anyone would still look ridiculous,” Sehun jokes. His husband leans down and kisses him, humming in response. 

“That’s quite an ego you have there,” Jongin scoffs, watching as Sehun playfully backs away. He turns and pulls back on his tunic.

“I think I have a right to,” The prince points out. “I was raised to dance and sing. However, my ego in my self-defense is at an all-time low…”

Jongin laughs at that and pulls on his overcoat. “Yes, well...dancing and all of those things fit you much better” He eyes the knife that Sehun straps onto his waist. “When the execution is over, will you still carry that?”

“I think I will,” Sehun admits. He grabs onto Jongin’s arm before they head out into the hall and toward their bedroom to change. “Thanks to Zitao and his so-called friend, I now have a deathly fear of assassins waiting in the darkness of every nook and cranny…” he pauses. “And stalkers.”

“You mean, you are waiting for that assassin, Yifan, or Zitao to be waiting in our room-”

“And that they will kill you,” Sehun finishes in a whisper. 

Jongin looks at him in surprise. “Not that they will kill you?”

The prince frowns. “I had no thought of that. I do not think Zitao means me harm. I am more worried about you. Promise me you will be careful, Jongin.”

His husband smiles and slowly nods. “I promise, I will be careful, dear.”

Sehun’s heart flutters at the endearing name but he doesn’t say anything about it- afraid he’ll stop. He grabs onto Jongin’s arm tighter, feeling ridiculously giddy. He frowns when he notices a letter setting on their dresser. He lets go of Jongin before he goes and picks it up. Sitting on the bed, he’s slow to open it. “What is that?” Jongin asks.

“I don’t know,” He admits. His brows furrow as he reads it, his blood running cold. Sehun swallows hard and sets it to the side. “Zitao was in our room.”

Jongin turns to face the prince. “What?! When?!” 

Sehun hands him the paper. “He left me...a love poem, expressing his forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?”

“He thinks I betrayed him,” he whispers.

His husband crumbles it up and tosses it to the side, mumbling something to himself. He goes to the window to peek out. “Perhaps we should switch rooms.”

“What? But I like it here…”

Jongin smiles at him. “Sehun, we have to take precautions to ensure we are safe. We can go back to my old room.”

The anxiety clears a bit at that and it causes him to grin. “I get to see your old room?”

His husband rolls his eyes as he pulls on another shirt. “Do not get too excited, it is not very exceptional.”

“Are you kidding? I had no idea this was not your room before I moved in,” Sehun admits. 

Jongin grabs the prince’s arm and pulls him to the door. “I will have someone move our things. In the meantime, I will show you the other room.”

“I can not wait!”

Sehun doesn’t know what but he’s unsurprised to find that Jongin’s old bedroom matches his true personality. With maroon-colored walls, his floors seem to be mahogany flooring. A king size canopy bed with red curtains decorating it as well as the window. It’s not decorated much, probably due to the fact that Jongin isn't here much. But there does seem to be a small table placed horizontally in front of the window; empty cups, plates, and a jug decorating it. Two chairs are seated on either side. And with the curtains pulled open by silk string, the light that shines past it makes the whole scene look extremely peaceful. “Other than the fact that you need to decorate a little, I think it is a nice room,” Sehun says.

“You think so?” Jongin chuckles, shutting the door behind them. 

“I do! It looks much more...welcoming,” he hums as he sits on the bed. What are we going to do about the other room?”

“We will keep it looking the same way, so Zitao and his assassin do not suspect anything.”

“Okay,” Sehun mumbles.” B-but do not go yourself. Send our strongest servants...like Junmyeon or Chanyeol.”

“How about I send both, so they can watch each other's backs. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” The prince sighs in relief. “As long as they are safe. I...I do not want them hurting anyone else.”

Jongin stares at him for a few seconds before he slowly joins him on the bed. “I will send the guards to find them now.”

“But-”

“They tried to kill me and they hurt you, Sehun,” He interrupts. “I am going to order that they are found and brought in.” After his husband kisses his forehead, he gets up and leaves. Sehun watches him leave, turning only when Jongin is completely out of the room. He lets out a soft sigh as he goes to the window. He had a horrible feeling in his gut.

“They could not be found?” Sehun asks.

“No,” Jongin replies in a whisper. They stop in front of their bedroom door, both now grimly quiet. As if silently telling him he’s okay, he takes Sehun’s hand and gently ushering him into the room. He, however, stops when they’re partway in. Sehun furrows his brows when he notices his husband slowly put a hand on his sword. The prince looks over at the now open window; which was closed when he had left. “Sehun, did you-” The man’s words are cut short by a sudden slash to his chest; barely managing to duck out of harm's way. Sehun yelps, hitting his back against the wall. He watches with wide eyes as Yifan, Zitao’s assassin, standing with a blade this time. Jongin quickly draws his sword before he ducks to the side, once again missing the blade. “Stand back, Sehun!”

“I am not here for him!” Yifan reassures, glaring at the prince briefly. “Leave!”

“W-what?!” Sehun shrieks when the sound of metal hitting metal fills the room. They struggle, both seeming evenly matched with their skills. He slowly crawls onto the bed, watching them as they fight. They get a good few cuts in, making each other bleed. But Sehun begins to panic when Yifan seems to get the upper hand. He manages to pin the cold prince to the floor, sword tightly to his throat. The prince takes this time to quickly look around, for anything. He needs to help. “Stop it!” He shouts when the assassin brings up his hidden weapon, a small knife. Without thinking, the prince takes his dagger from his belt and scrambles to the floor. He shuts his eyes tight, his hand tightens. He lets out a loud cry as he plunges the blade deep into the assassin’s back. Adrenaline pushes him further, causing him to stab him several times until he suddenly goes limp. With the last stab, he lets go of the dagger and turns away. He covers his eyes and whines. He doesn’t want to see. “D-did I get him?” 

Jongin grunts with the sound of a thump. When Sehun looks over, he stares in horror as Yifan’s bloody, limp body lays on the floor. “Oh my gods!” he gazes down then the blood on his hands. His heart beats fast and his stomach drops. “Oh gods, oh gods!”

“Sehun…” His husband stands up, going to him. “Sehun, calm down.”

“Did...did I kill him?”

Jongin slowly nods. “I am sorry.”

Sehun looks over again and stares at the dagger still in the dead man’s back. Blood seeps ono the wooden floor, no doubt staining it. He quickly pulls off his soaked gloves. He tosses them to the floor, more panic hits him when red had gotten on his pale hands. Jongin gently squeezes the boy’s shoulder before going to the door and opening it. “Guards, get in here!” He orders. As soon as some men come in, he steps to the side and motions. “Clean him up.”  

One guard grabs Yifan’s wrists, while the other grabs the ankles. Jongin puts a hand on Sehun’s back, gently leading him over to a washing. The prince sniffs and accepts the rag from his husband before quickly scrubbing. His breath is shaky. “I…I can not believe I…”

“I know,” he whispers. He gently grabs Sehun’s hand and brings him over to the door. “We will return when all of this...blood is cleaned up. Let us prepare for bed.”

“No,” he shakes his head, following Jongin out. “I-I can not possibly sleep after that.” Sehun stares at the floor, remembering the horrible sound. He grabs onto his husband’s arm and swallows hard. “C-could you read me poetry?”

Jongin opens his mouth to say something but when Sehun stares up at him with wide eyes, he sighs. “Yes..alright, Sehun.”