Sehun is happy his brother’s strategist doesn’t eat at the same table as them. And that his room is on the completely other opposite side of the castle than their bedroom. The guy just scares him a little. How self-important he seems to be. He steers clear of the man, which is hard since he’s practically glued to his brother's side. But even his brother’s company feels odd. With all of his questions and strange stares. He barely mentions their parent’s death and speaks a lot of the new advantages of being king. Junmyeon mentioned to Sehun quietly, about how inappropriate it is. Everyone else agrees, of course.

 

“Live will become easier when Jongin and you become king,” His brother would say. “More busy, yes,but easier. You won’t have to sit around while people make mistakes in their decisions.”

 

“Ah, really?” Sehun hums, not really paying attention. What gets him is the last part. Is he saying their father made mistakes? But he holds his tongue. “You seem happier as king.”

 

“I am,” His brother admits. Sehun slowly pushes his food around with his fork and glances at Jongin. His husband silently eats his own food before looking at him as well. He gives him a tight, reassuring smile. 

 

“Kyungsoo says he wants to speak with us, Prince Jongin,” Sehun announces. “He has news for what we are looking into.”

 

“Oh? What are you looking into?” His brother asks.

 

“Yarn,” Jongin lies easily. “I asked my servant, Kyungsoo, to look into the beat material possible and have it imported; Sehun does so much knitting.”

 

“You need a servant to look into that? Just yarn?”

 

“That is what I said,” Jongin chuckles. “But, if it is what Sehun wants, I am obliged to give it to him.”

 

“I see...so you are spoiled, even here,” He laughs. Sehun would normally agree and laugh as well. But it doesn’t feel like his usual jokes but more of a jab. 

 

“I am not spoiled anymore,” Sehun argues. “I am even learning how to fight.”

 

His brother frowns. “Fight? Why do you need to fight?”

 

“Because of what happened to mother and father. If an assassin is after us too, I want to be prepared.”

 

“But father knew how to fight too and yet…” he sighs. “I do not think you should worry for the assassins. They do not want us.”

 

“And how do you know?” Jongin says, narrowing his eyes.

 

“W-well...it has been a week or so and now sigh of this...assassin.”

 

“...I suppose,” Sehun mumbles. When his brother looks back at his food, he stares at Jongin with a questioning look. His husband nods and clears his throat. 

 

“Well, Sehun and I will excuse ourselves,’ He announces as he stands up, motioning for Sehun. The prince stands as well, glad to have the excuse. He bows his head to his brother before grabbing onto Jongin’s arm and leaving the dining hall. “I know you do not want to hear this,” He whispers. “But I believe he had something to do with your parent’s death.”

 

Sehun swallows hard. “Yes...Me too.” He stops and lets out a shaky sigh. “Jongin, you are not going to like this but I have...an idea.” When his husband waits, he goes on. “I...think I should talk to Tao.”

 

“No.”

 

“Jongin, come on! You can be there,” he pleads. “I need to know if my brother is involved and Tao knows!”

 

“But-”

 

“I am not in any danger, Jongin- Yifan is dead,” he points out. “And Junmyeon is right; Tao would never hurt me.”

 

Jongin lets out a loud groan. “How do you even know how to find him?”

 

“Tao is not an idiot. I would have to go alone.”

 

“No, not happening.”

 

“Hey, I know how to protect myself now,” Sehun says, putting a hand on Jongin’s arm. “I can...trick him into thinking I left you.”

 

Jongin lets out a long,frustrated sigh, like he knows this is the only way. “...Very well,” he whispers. “But take a sword with you, not just a dagger.”

 

“Yes, alright,” He says, watching as his husband pulls his own sword from his belt and attaches it to Sehun. He smiles weakly at the concern the man shows for him. He puts a hand on his cheek as a reassurance. 

 

“I will return soon.”

 

“You’re going now?”

 

“Yes,” Sehun slowly nods. “I think it is best. I will...take a carriage, so my presence will be alerted.”

 

“How do you know he is in town?” Jongin asks as they make their way to the stables.

 

“Because,” Sehun lets out a long sigh as they stop by one of the many carriages. He waits as Jongin opens the door for him, begrudgingly. “I have the feeling...that he has never strayed far from me,” he whispers. He feels a bit shy when he’s kissed so openly in front of the nearby servants and guards. But, as usual, Jongin is shameless.

 

“Do not let him get close to you, always stay at least three feet away,” He orders as he helps Sehun inside. “Remember...there’s always guards nearby, always. Scream for help if you need.”

 

“You worry too much,” Sehun smiles, before scooting away, letting the door be shut. “I...I will be careful.”

 

Jongin smiles tightly as he slowly steps back, whistling to the driver. Sehun gives his husband one last glance before they drive away; galloping down the dirt road. He becomes more nervous the closer he gets to town. How did it come to this? Over a year ago, his brother was one of his biggest comforts. But now he’s afraid the man may have had a hand in the death of their parents. He remembers he had asked his father about being king, how hard it was when he became it. He told Sehun it took him months before he was truly used to it. Jongin’s father said something similar. Not only with the new duties but with the sadness of their father’s deaths; both of them. And yet his brother always seems comfortable with his new position. 

 

“Your majesty?” 

 

Sehun looks over at the door, only now noticing it’s open and a guard has his hand out with expectation. The prince clears his throat, accepting as he’s helped out. “I apologize. My mind is elsewhere.”

 

“It’s no bother, your grace,” The guard bows before returning to his post. 

 

“I will be a bit, so please relax at the tavern or whatever you need,” Sehun says to the driver. The man nods, riding off to possibly park. The prince looks toward the hill Tao usually paints and frowns. No Chinese painter but his canvas is up. He nervously approaches it, heading up the hill. Sitting on his stool slowly, Sehun swallows hard at the painting. It’s him. The prince sighs and brushes his own hair out of his eyes. What was he even doing? There’s not even a guarantee that Zitao will come. 

 

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Someone behind him speaks up. Sehun doesn’t have to turn around to know who it is. He puts his handover his hidden dagger, looking as if he’s just resting. “Nothing I ever paint or write truly reflects you, my love.”

 

“How are you so sure I came alone?”

 

“I watch you. Everytime you come into town, I always know,” Zitao whispers. “You came here, defenceless.”

 

“I thought I could not have to worry about that around you,” Sehun says. “I thought you could protect me.”

 

“I can! Better than that monster you call a husband!” The painter snaps. He lets out a shaky sigh as he slowly pets Sehun’s hair. “I am sorry. I...did not mean to lose my temper. But I knew you would return to me.”

 

Sehun stands up and turns to face the man. “I have questions and I know you have answers, Zitao. I came here alone with the faith that you would never hurt me,” He says. “Was I wrong?”

 

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “My dear flower, I would never hurt you.” Sehun cringes at the nickname but he forces a smile.

 

“Z-Zitao, you...It was not your idea-”

 

“We should go somewhere comfortable.”

 

“What?”

 

Zitao motions to the town. “Let us find somewhere comfortable to talk. Like my home?”

 

“No,” Sehun clears his throat. “I-I want to go out, like the tavern.”

 

“The tavern?” Zitao glances around and finally nods. He grabs Sehun’s hand tightly. “If it is where you want, we will go.”

 

“G-good,” Sehun stutters, allowing himself to be dragged to their destination. He always keeps a hand on his weapon, just in case. The tavern isn’t too crowded, around five or six people; not including the carriage driver. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees a guard off duty. Once they find a spot to sit, isolated in the corner, the painter waves his hand.

 

“Some tea, please!”

 

“I am not thirsty.”

 

“Every good conversation includes a cup of tea, Sehun.”

 

“R-right. Of course.”

 

As soon as the order is placed, Sehun says nothing, he clears his throat. “I have questions.”

 

“I will do my best to answer them.”

 

He feels sick when his hand is grabbed, forcing their fingers to intertwine. “Thank you. Um...I know killing my parents was not your original plan, was it?”

 

“I-”

 

“Someone approached you, did they not?” Sehun asks in a whisper. He takes a deep breath. “He...worked for my brother.”

 

Zitao stares at him for a long moment before letting out a sigh and looking out the nearby window. “Yes,” He admits. “I thought he was insane, at first. Only being a simple strategist. But when then news of your forced marriage reached me, I felt angry...like your parents had betrayed your trust.”

 

“Oh...my gods.”

 

“Your brother...had found out about my infatuation and love for you,” He continues. “After you left, he called on me for a private meeting and we made a deal.”

 

“A...A deal?” They wait until the barmaid sets their drinks down and walks off. “What sort of deal?”

 

“I...take care of your parents and he pays me.”

 

Sehun tries not to falter. “What did...he paid you?”

 

Zitao takes a sip of his tea, not seeming to notice how little the prince is touching his own. “He gave me you, Sehun.”

 

The prince’s heart drops and his chest tightens. His hands shake as he keeps them folded on his lap. “I...was his payment...to kill our parents,” He whispers. 

 

“Yes. Yifan was not paid, he did it as a favor to me. And so will be the death of Jongin.”

 

Sehun swallows hard again and he forces his smile. He slowly reaches over and grabs the painter’s hand. “Y-you mean that?” he his lips. “You will...save me from him?” He asks, lying. 

 

Zitao’s eyes light up at that. “Sehun! I knew you would see things my way. The thing is, I have not heard from Yifan…”

 

“Yifan? I am sure he is still working on finding a way to Jongin, yes?”

 

The painter hums. “You are right.

 

“Zitao...do you have the...letters or anything written down about this deal?”

 

“Of course,” Zitao says proudly. “I always carry it with me,” He eyes the boy suspiciously. “Why? Why do you need it?”

 

“Well...when Yifan kills Jongin, they will search you...what will happen if they find your letters? My brother will be executed a-and so will you!”

 

“I...am not sure you truly care, Sehun. What if you are lying?”

 

“Lying?” Sehun frowns. “Then...let me prove it to you,” He whispers. Without another word and trying not to cry, he gets up to stand beside him. He slowly leans down, pressing a sudden, passionate kiss. He shuts his eyes tightly. He has to make him trust him. Jongin will understand. He begins to panic when Zitao sits still but when he brings his hands up and grabs the prince’s cheeks, deepening their connection, he sighs against the man’s lips. When he pulls back, he tries to put on the sweetest face he can. As a prince, he’s learned to lie very well. While in front of nobles or during other politics, he has to. “I love you...Zitao. I-It took me some time to see that but...I see it now. I am meant to be with you.”

 

The painter gently caresses him. “Oh, my love.”

 

“Please...to keep you safe, allow me to hold onto those letters.”

 

“For you, I would give you the world,” he breaths. He quickly opens his coat and pulls out some letters, not hesitating to put them in Sehun’s hands. Sehun stares at them, standing up. After glancing at Tao, he begins to read them, to make sure it’s what he needs. He pulls his own jacket open, putting them in as well. 

 

“Thank you, Zitao.”

 

Zitao smiles but it slowly falters when he sees the sword on his belt. “Why...did you come armed, Sehun?”

 

“What?” Sehun looks down at it. “W-well, I am a prince, Zitao, I have to be careful.”

 

“You are only meeting with me and in town, you never bring a weapon,” The painter quickly stands. “You fooled me! You used my love to…”

 

“Zitao-” The prince gasps when he feels something sharp against his side. He looks down, staring at the dagger. “Zitao, I…”

 

“Start walking,” The painter whispers. Sehun slowly turns, beginning to walk away. He glances at the off-duty guard, catching his eye. He gives him a slight wave, hiding it from the painter. Before he can see his reaction, he’s pushed out of the tavern and towards some homes; assuming where Zitao lives. 

 

“Remember what Junmyeon and Jongin taught you,” He thinks to himself. “Stay calm.” Taking a deep breath, he raises his head. He stays focused as they walk. “Where are you taking me?”

 

“Someone private, where I can show you my love,” Zitao responds quietly. “YOu still do not see it but I do not want to hurt you.”

 

“You have me at a disadvantage then,” Sehun says.

 

“How so?”

 

“Because I want to hurt you.” He takes a quick, sudden movement forward, spinning to face his stalker. Using the man’s momentary, the prince does what he’s first taught. Tensing his body and using all of his strength, he pulls his arm back, lunging his fist forward and landing a hard blow to the side of his face;causing his head to snap to the side. He falls with a loud thud as the knife drops from his hand. Sehun stares at him for a moment before letting out a sigh at the groaning. “Why did YOU bring a knife to meet me, .” He shakes his head. He needs to stop hanging out with Jongdae. The prince motions to the guards as they quickly approach. “Arrest him and fetch my carriage,” He says as he steps over his stalker. Thank god he didn’t have to use the sword. 

 

“Sehun!” Zitao calls out as he’s forced to his feet, obviously still dazed. Sehun stops and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes briefly before turning to face him. “I love you!”

 

The prince approaches him, staring into his eyes. “No...you do not,” he says. “If you truly loved me, you would have seen that my parents did not betray me. They loved me with all of their hearts and they were so sorry that they had to send me away. After I give these letters to Jongin’s father, I will lose my brother,” He pauses. “Zitao, you killed them all. Even if it is indirect. That is not love...it is just sick.” He shakes his head again and walks away, ignoring his name being screamed. For some reason, he no longer shakes. He’s more determined now than ever.

 

“The assassin who killed our parents has been caught and they are preparing him for immediate execution under my orders,” Sehun says as he steps into the large room; Sehun’s brother, husband, that damn strategist, and Jongin’s father all gathered around. “He has been found guilty for assassintion and stalking.”

 

“What did you find?” Jongin asks, standing to greet him.

 

“Letters,” Sehun replies, rereading them briefly as he slowly walks to the front of the table, to Jongin’s father. He hands it to the man, glancing at his brother. He looks nervous, as does his strategist. “Read them, your majesty,” He tries to keep himself calm. But how could he? “It is...revealed that my brother and his strategist had private meetings with a man who has been stalking me almost all my life. All Zitao had to do was kill our parents, so he could become king and then he would pay him.”

 

“How much did you pay him?” His husband asks again, seeming unsurprised. 

 

Sehun takes a deep breath. Not here. He can break down later, in privacy. “Me,” He says quietly. “I was the payment.”

 

The room goes silent for a moment but by the look on his face, Sehun can see the pure rage in his eyes. “You….you sold your own brother?!” the man snaps, turning to the brother. “You sold him?!”

 

“I…” His brother looks away. “I have nothing to say.”

 

“You have nothing to say?” Sehun whispers. He slams his hand on the table. “You kill our parents, brother! Our parents! And then you sold me to a man who had been following me my whole life! And you have nothing to say to me? You are not even sorry?!” He shouts. “You will be executed for this, do you understand that?! Both of you will!”

 

“I do not know what sort of authority you have over me-”

 

“He may not,” The king interrupts, standing up. “But as I do.”

 

“Y-your highness-”

 

“I may have only been friends with them for only tow years before their death. But their passing hit all of us. You both will be executed, alongside this Zitao.”

 

His brother stares at the king with wide eyes before turning to look at Sehun. They’re pleading now. “I...I am family, Sehun! Please!”

 

“So was mom and dad,” He whispers, his voice breaking. He quickly turns and exits the room, tears filling his eyes and blurring his vision. He’s unable to contain it any further and lets out a whimper; which quickly turns into hard sobbing. Jongin quickly catches up and wraps his arms around him tightly. The prince wails into the man’s chest, his tears no doubt wetting his shirt.

 

“Hey,” His husband whispers. “It is over, Sehun.”

 

“But he is my brother!” Sehun bawls. “My brother, Jongin!”

 

“I know but…” He goes quiet as the sounds of Sehun’s loud wailing fills the halls. “My dear, I am so...so sorry.”

 

Sehun knows he shouldn’t be sorry. The man sold him out and killed their parents. But it hurts, so damn much. So much he clings to his lover like a lifeline, afraid if he lets go, Jongin too will die; even with Yifan gone. He can’t lose anymore people. He just can't.