A/N: New fic time! Hooray!

This is a bit of a weird one. I set out writing it with the intention of it being a very fluffy Royal/Modern Fairytale AU, but...things got a bit twisted somewhere along the line and some action and horror elements crept in, and well...here we are! I'm never one to fight the direction of my writing since I believe it usually goes where it's meant to, so I'm guessing this is the story I was meant to write rather than the very fluffy version :D Tehehehe

Anyways, this is a modern fairytale based on two different stories: Snow White (Mark) and a reversed gender Bluebeard (Jinyoung). I hope you enjoy!

Since Mark and Jinyoung don't appear in the prologue, my first update will also include Chapter One. Updates will be weekly. Happy reading!

Centuries past, in ancient times

Prince Jumong sat at his writing desk, grinding his ink stick until it pooled into dark liquid in the black slab containing it. When it was ready, he dipped his calligraphy brush into it and shifted his attention to the blank sheet of parchment in front of him. For the past year now, he had been keeping a record of his life at the palace, as small as it was given that he was the unimportant third son of the ruling family, the one least likely to ever sit the throne. Maybe it would be meaningless, and no one would ever pay any mind to his words and experiences. But maybe a day would come when he was looked back upon by generations of descendants who wished to better understand the world that once was, the world he was living in now. And when that day came, perhaps his account would teach them something, and in this small way he would be remembered long after he was gone.

Jumong was just about to set his calligraphy brush to the parchment when the door to his room opened, and Yizong walked in. Jumong set his brush down quickly, cheeks flushing in delight. He rose to his feet, stepping hurriedly towards his guest and extending his arms to him. “Dearest,” he said fondly. “A treat for my tired eyes, as always.”

It still amazed him that he could speak to this man with such frank affection. When they’d first met each other years ago, it had seemed impossible that they’d even grow to like each other, much less love each other. Yizong was one of the many illegitimate sons of the ruler of the vast and war-mongering Empire to the north, and served in the palace as the bodyguard to the Empire’s diplomatic ambassador. Given how many times the Empire had invaded Jumong’s homeland and threatened the reign of his parents, Jumong hated anyone from the Empire on principal, and Yizong as the offspring of the Emperor most of all. He’d grown up bickering with him in every other breath and trying to gather evidence that he was a spy to have him arrested.

But in spite of Jumong’s antagonism, Yizong had always been unfailingly kind to him. He deferentially called him “Your Highness” and always gave him the most exquisite jewelry for his birthday celebrations. He covered for him when Jumong snuck out of the palace to go to the market, and slipped him food whenever he was caught and confined to his rooms by his parents.

Yizong’s kindness had confused Jumong greatly. How could someone he was so cold to treat him so warmly? His confusion turned him curious, and rather than always trying to stir up an argument with Yizong, he began conversing with him normally. He learned that Yizong hated his father the Emperor for abandoning all of his unwanted children and often forcing them into military service to get rid of them so he would not have to provide for them in his Imperial Palace. He was surprised to discover that Yizong viewed Jumong’s own parents, the King and Queen, far more affectionately and hoped to be a part of their household for the rest of his days. He was shocked most of all when Yizong told him that he wished they could be friends, as he’d never had a friend close to his age as Jumong was.

So against all odds, they befriended each other. But Jumong’s confusion towards Yizong never truly subsided, even as they became closer. As Yizong grew even more fair and lovely with each passing year, Jumong wondered why his heart sometimes ached when he was around, or why he thought with an almost obsessive longing about running his fingers through his long and dark hair. He wondered why his body would feel flush and strange whenever Yizong happened to touch him. He wondered why it was that his heart felt constantly unsettled, as if it wanted something it had not yet been given by Yizong.

And then one day, the royal palace was infiltrated by Imperial assassins. They killed a number of guards and courtiers before breaking into the throne room to take on the royal family themselves. One had charged straight at Jumong, sword lifted high, and Jumong had seen the end of his life right in front of him. But a second later, Yizong had jumped out in front of him to take the blow to the shoulder on his behalf. Even with his flesh sliced clean through, he fought valiantly and shoved his sword into the gut of the assassin, killing him before he could attempt to hurt Jumong again.

But the extent of the wound and the amount of blood loss had left Yizong himself at death's door, and Jumong had been near hysterical with fear. He was terrified Yizong would die before he ever got to tell him what he’d realized the moment he saw Yizong leap without hesitation to protect him: that he loved him with a love so great that it startled even him. Days and nights he sat by Yizong’s bed without rest, praying to the gods that he would awaken once more and would not die in the name of protecting him. It was a long and fraught battle, but one day Yizong did indeed awake. And Jumong told him exactly how he felt.

Yizong did not immediately answer. He instead bade Jumong to rest and take care of himself after days upon days of neglect. Jumong did so, allowing the court physicians the time they needed to tend to Yizong’s wound. And then, when the wound was sufficiently healed, Yizong came to Jumong’s room in his bandages and bowed to him, saying he was honored by his love but unworthy of it. Jumong told him to rise, and that he didn’t know a worthier man in the world, and that they were equals in heart and bound so strongly by fate in their souls that it would rather be a dishonor to the gods to deny it.

They became lovers in every sense from then on, and the nights they spent holed up in Jumong’s chambers making love were a fairly well-known secret in the palace. It wasn’t entirely approved of, but as he was not the first in the long line of the royal family to consort with men or indulge in an affair with someone who was by no means a potential marriage candidate, several blind eyes were turned in the matter.

For a moment, Yizong’s expression was warm as he enfolded Jumong into his arms and kissed him on his parted lips in such a way that never failed to make Jumong dizzy. But when he pulled away, his expression was solemn and almost pained, and he took a few steps back from Jumong to create some distance between them.

“Your Highness,” Yizong said, his tone strained and formal. “The King and Queen demand your presence in the throne room.”

“What do Mother and Father want with me this time?” Jumong asked crossly. He hated when Yizong came to him in an official capacity, more interested in following orders than sweeping him off his feet and throwing him into bed. He also very much hated being summoned by his parents. A formal conversation with them in the throne room rarely yielded anything pleasant.

“They’ve received correspondence from Princess Aneksi.”

“Who?”

“Princess Aneksi,” Yizong repeated. “Heiress to the fertile delta-lands to the southwest. One of your marriage candidates. She came to the palace last summer on a diplomatic visit, remember?”

Jumong frowned. “I had such an important marriage candidate from such a great kingdom? How did I not know this?”

Yizong sighed. “I assume you forgot since there was reasonably little chance someone like that would take an interest in you, given your status as a third son of a small, frequently invaded kingdom.”

“Are you saying an interest has been taken, after all?”

“Yes. It seems Princess Aneksi wishes to take you as her consort.”

All the color drained from Jumong’s face. “WHAT? T-That can’t be possible.”

Yizong shook his head darkly. “I’m afraid it’s true, Your Highness. And your parents will surely follow through with the arrangement.”

“How can you speak of this so calmly? Don’t you know what this means?” Jumong tore his fingers through his hair. “Marrying her would mean traveling across the sea, leagues upon leagues from where you are. We would- ”

“Have to put an end to our relationship together,” Yizong finished for him. “I know. I’ve been prepared for this to happen from the moment my heart was captured by you, Your Highness. You were always meant to marry someone else.”

“Yes, but it was supposed to have been some minor noble, or some war leader’s daughter,” Jumong said desperately. “Someone who would allow me my lover if I allowed her to have lovers of her own. A marriage that would not take me away from the palace or away from you. Not this.” He grabbed Yizong by the arm. “Tell me you are not as truly at peace with this as you sound!”

“Of course I’m not, Your Highness,” Yizong said with a trembling voice. “It breaks my heart to pieces to even think of it. But what can one such as I do? In my position, going against the King and Queen is akin to a declaration of war of my country against yours. I would lose you just the same if that happened. I am trapped. I cannot act to keep you at my side without risking the lives and safety of us both.”

“Then I will go against Mother and Father in your stead,” Jumong said determinedly. “I will reject this proposal, even if it means they will disown me. I will choose you over riches or titles or whatever honor was meant for me in this world.”

He pulled Yizong towards him and kissed him firmly, willing his passion to inflame his lover’s hope and determination. Maybe it worked somewhat, since Yizong returned the kiss with the strength of affection he usually did. But when he pulled away from Jumong, there was still a look of despair in his eyes.

I will remove that despair from him, Jumong thought determinedly. I will show him that I mean to do exactly as I say.

Head held high, he stormed into his parents’ throne room. “I am not marrying Princess Aneksi,” he announced as soon as he arrived in front of their raised thrones on the dais.

“Yes, you are,” his father the King said.

“No. I refuse it unequivocally. Even if I have to lose my title and standing, I refuse it.”

“Your refusal is unacceptable,” his mother the Queen said. “You have not even heard the offer. It is beyond the scope of what you can imagine.”

“You, a third son, are being accepted as a Prince consort accompanied by the promise of an alliance between our two nations, freely shared resources, and a guarantee of immediate military support should another threat of invasion find us,” the king said sternly. “Your marriage will ensure the safety of the royal line and the prosperity of our nation for years to come. It is even more profitable than the marriage of your brother, the Crown Prince, who will one day succeed my throne. You should be honored to accept such an opportunity for the glory of our nation.”

Jumong’s throat felt dry. He knew his parents truly never would allow him to refuse such a beneficial arrangement, even if they needed to tie him up and force him on the boat themselves. Even he could not deny the necessity of securing his country military protection…even considering it was Yizong’s own country that most determinedly invaded them whenever there was not in-fighting among their own warlords.

“If I must go,” he said, squaring his shoulders, “at least allow me Yizong as a bodyguard, and…and as my lover, in my new capacity. Surely Princess Aneksi will have concubines of her own.”

His parents exchanged a glance. “I think you do not understand the nature of your future wife,” the queen said.

“She would not stand to share anything of hers with someone else,” the king continued. “She anticipates your full, undivided devotion. It is the belief of her people that their rulers are akin to the gods. As her husband, you are to defer to her as you would a goddess. Love only her. Worship only her.”

“Worship?” Jumong repeated, aghast. “That is not the way of our people. That is not our righteous path-”

The queen shook her head. “My son. I wish I could be noble and righteous in the way of our own divine teachings. But to me, the most righteous path is that which leads to our kingdom’s safety and prosperity. And with this arrangement, you will set us on that path.”

“You must do this,” the king said. “There is no other choice.”

“There is always a choice!” Jumong insisted. “We can find another path that leads to the same destination! My younger sister could make a marriage alliance with one of the northern kingdoms! We could strengthen and expand our own military might!”

The king clenched his fists. “No, my son,” he said, the tone of his voice final. “You fail to understand. We have told you the terms of acceptance. There were also terms of refusal. Should you deny her, Princess Aneksi vows war on us. She knows of your lover, and promises a blade in the night to do away with him should you turn away from her in favor of him. She might still kill him even if you accept, but we promise to hide him and find a safe place for him as a parting gift to you. But those are our choices. A marriage alliance or devastating war. And as king and sovereign, there is only one of these I will allow you to choose.”

Jumong threw his head back, wanting to scream at the heavens for this injustice. Why should he be made the sacrificial lamb of an entire kingdom? Why should he give up his heart and future for people who would never remember him or thank him for it?

But all the same, he knew what it was his duty to do. A war with such a kingdom would bring an end to his family and nation. It would bring an end to himself and Yizong. There would be nothing left, if he chose that path. Which really did leave only one option open to him. Even if it meant breaking his heart to choose it.

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I understand my duty, Father. I will marry Princess Aneksi. But I will never love her. And I will never worship her.”

The king looked at him sadly. “That stubbornness will be to your peril, my son. One does not challenge one who believes she is as great as a god and easily win. A goddess lives to be loved. And one who is scorned lives to destroy. Do not make yourself the first victim of her wrath. You will live to regret it. As will we all.”