There were no servants waiting at the door, and Jongdae paused before it. For a split second, Chanyeol assumed that he was waiting for someone to open it for him, but he was merely fixing his hair, like he so often had ever since they had arrived in Bareahard.

Without a word, Yixing plucked the silver emblem off his own uniform and offered it to Jongdae, who took it after a moment of hesitation.

Right. Chanyeol hadn't really wasted a thought on it before but Jongdae had never bothered to replace the brooch he'd broken during their first meeting. He smothered the guilt by watching Yixing reach out to fix Jongdae's collar with quick, swift movements, shooting him a small smile afterwards. There hadn't been a single word exchanged between them and yet Chanyeol could only dream of bringing someone as much comfort as Yixing could, even if he had all the words in the world.

How ironic for him to wish that when he had been the one to crack the brooch in the first place.

All his apprehensive thoughts dripped to the back of his mind when Jongdae opened the door and led them into an entrance hall.

This truly wasn't a home anymore, or even a mansion - to Chanyeol, this was a castle.

The ceilings were so high up that even the two massive, sparkly chandeliers were still hovering far above their heads, their lights blinking on the perfectly polished marble floor. Words truly didn't do justice to the sheer grandeur of the stone columns framing the room, their intricate, swirly carvings perfectly matching the patterns on the walls and ground. The entire room was decked in warm shades of green, with golden accents coming in the form of antique-looking lamps and the family crest, which displayed a shield with a fancy wind orb carved into it. Everything from the wallpaper to the thick carpets looked priceless.

There were more people than they had seen around the noble district, as well; Chanyeol counted at least four people milling around the hall, either cleaning or looking otherwise busy. The closest maid - a young girl with a round, red face and a perfectly pressed costume - almost had a upon seeing Jongdae.

"I didn't expect- uhm. I'm really, really sorry," she stammered, not really stating what she was sorry for. Jongdae simply brushed her off with a shake of his head.

"It's fine," he said, not unkindly. "The Duke has been informed of our visit. We'll be waiting over there."

"Of course," the maid burst out, gesturing towards the corner of the hall. "I will bring you some tea and cookies. I'll be right back-"

She visibly cringed over her own, clumsy way of words and bustled away while they made their way to what turned out to be a set of comfy-looking sofas around a low, wooden table.

"Have a seat," Jongdae offered calmly, sinking into the plush armchair first, his posture betraying nothing of its comfort. They all followed suit, with Chanyeol sitting next to Yifan, who was now the next most likely person in this hall to experience a from mere stress.

Not that Chanyeol could deny feeling very stiff and awkward himself. The atmosphere in this place was suffocating and nothing, absolutely nothing about it felt like a place one should be calling home. He could only wonder just how large this place was, and how many wings and hallways Jongdae had to walk down to retreat to his room. Suddenly, his notion of a younger brother living on the estate and yet rarely crossing paths with him made much more sense.

They didn't have to wait long; Duke Kim arrived before the promised tea and cookies did. Jongdae spotted him first, getting to his feet and causing everyone else to follow.

Duke Kim wasn't particularly tall, considering that even his heels weren't quite enough to put him on eye level with Chanyeol.

At the same time, however, he was towering over all of them.

It was hard to guess his age; he did look older than Chanyeol's own father, but that probably had more to do with his aura than his actual appearance. There were no hints of grey to his hair despite the noticeable wrinkles giving him a permanently strict expression, and the way he held himself spoke of unwavering confidence. On top of that he was dressed in garments so opulent, they could have just as well belonged to the royal family.

When he stopped before them, he immediately zeroed in on his son.

"Jongdae."

There was a small smile on his lips but it felt about as warm as a handful of snow. His voice was deep and might even be pleasant if not for the piercing stare going along with it.

"Hello, father," Jongdae said dutifully, looking alert, but not nervous.

You wouldn't want to be nervous right now, either, a small voice in Chanyeol's head whispered. There's no room for that.

"It's good to see you so healthy and fit," his father continued, folding his hands behind his back. Golden tassels and polished brooches were blinking at the motion. "I can already tell it was worth calling you here. The academy must be working wonders for you."

"I'm trying," Jongdae said, effectively saying nothing at all.

The Duke was looking past him now, throwing them a look that was sharp observation disguised under mild interest.

Yixing - who had been standing with his back perfectly straight, hands folded behind his back not much unlike the duke himself - slightly tilted his head to gain attention.

"If nobody minds, I'll be introducing myself first," he began smoothly, saving them all by picking up on the signs straight away. "Zhang Yixing. I'm honoured to meet you."

The Duke's smile widened a tiny bit at that, though the room temperature sure didn't.

"So you're the son of Baron Zhang," he stated, not even showing the shadow of a doubt. "He's a good man. Forward my greetings to him, will you?"

Where Chanyeol was shocked that this man apparently knew even the lower nobility by name, Yixing only smiled. It lacked a bit of his usual playfulness though.

"I'm sure he'll be most pleased to return this kind gesture."

He then glanced at Luhan, who thankfully took the hint.

"I'm Luhan. From Celdic. Thank you for having us," he stated stiffly, sounding quite nervous for once.

"Wu Yifan," Yifan muttered, eyes flickering from the Duke to the ground.

"Park Chanyeol," Chanyeol spoke up, hopefully fast enough to cover for Yifan's shell-shocked silence. "From Roer. It's nice to meet you."

He tried his best to sound earnest, and was conscious enough to hate himself for it.

"And I'm Kim Jongin, from the Northern Highlands," Jongin ended, displaying a much more successful attempt than Chanyeol had. "Thank you for taking the time."

The Duke hummed, obviously not having anything to say about them as he took them in once more. Evaluated them.

"And to think that you were planning to leave without stopping by to say hello," he eventually trailed off, "depriving me of the sight of your newly found comrades. I hope you take great care of them."

It was the utter nonchalance in which he'd said it that felt like a cold slap to the face.

This man was above the childish malice of Zitao or the calculated kind of deceit Chanyeol had witnessed in other nobles.

The implications were clear as day - Jongdae was gracious for keeping them around, and if anything, he had the obligation to care for them like they were his responsibility. Like a pet project in order to practice being a duke later on.

And he'd said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Jongdae looked like he was about to bite his lips, only to stop himself at the last second.

"There has been no need so far," he said evasively, and for once, Chanyeol wasn't mad about the half-baked response; because this had in fact been a sign of solidarity, a rebellion of the most subtle kind. There was no doubt his father noticed it, too, though Chanyeol wasn't sure what brought him to the conclusion, since his smile didn't falter in the slightest.

"Wonderful. How about we retreat to the study for a little talk? I'm sure your fellow students won't mind waiting for a bit."

"I'm sure they don't," Jongdae agreed easily, and again, Chanyeol had to mentally agree with him. He did in fact not mind waiting here if it meant getting away from this man. With a last clipped, insincere smile thrown their way, the Duke turned and Jongdae followed along, not looking back at them. As they all sank back into the sofas, Yifan looked about as green as the cushioning. Chanyeol, however, couldn't help staring after the two as they made their way down the hall and up a flight of stairs. Next to him, Jongdae looked... small. Young, too. For all his posturing, his many talents and confident drawl, next to his father, Kim Jongdae reminded him of a dog with his ears pressed flat against his head.

While the others were chatting among themselves in small, hushed murmurs, Chanyeol kept looking around the pompous hall, watching the maids avoid his gaze to resume their cleaning duties. There was a strangely heavy sense of emptiness inside him, increasing by the second.

He had always known about the concept of the nobility.

He'd always been aware that nobles owned riches far beyond a regular person's imagination. That certain families held power.

But seeing it all in person, sitting in this very hall, surrounded by vast stretches of polished marble and olive-colored tapestries, it felt so real. So much larger than him.

It made him feel powerless, but also genuinely foolish. Stupid even. This person he had been butting heads with without a care in the world was the heir to all... this.

In a few years, Jongdae would be the one to own this place, to own an army and a good quarter of the country. And Chanyeol had been arguing with him over breakfast like it actually mattered, like their interactions mattered, like there was even the sliver of a chance that Chanyeol could be right or make a change-

But more than his own impotence, it was the air in this place that made it hard to breathe. To really picture growing up in this palace, having maids and teachers assigned, being grown and groomed to become like the Duke, and walking the streets of a town soon to be yours - just imagining it made him feel dizzy, like the weight of everything was pressing the air out of his lungs-

"You know, not to be paranoid, but I'm pretty sure we're being watched," Luhan commented, deceivingly casually. It was enough of a distraction for Chanyeol to grab onto.

"By every single person in this hall? Wow, I didn't even notice that," Yifan muttered, eyes resting on the table between them. Luhan frowned.

"Pretty sure that boy standing in the doorway is not a maid though."

Chanyeol looked up, craning his head to see the person in question. There was indeed a boy lingering in the closest doorway, looking about their age and sticking out from the staff like a sore thumb; not only did he appear to have no particular duties to follow, he was also dressed way too well in his expensive-looking, proper dress shirt, complete with a frilly cravat and everything. It was nowhere near the level of opulence the Duke had been wearing - or even that of the nobles strolling down the streets - but there was no way he was a young butler.

"Could you be any more obvious?" Luhan hissed, clearly embarrassed.

The boy seemed to shrink as Chanyeol gave into the burning curiosity and lifted his hand in greeting. Luhan groaned.

"Wave him over, why don't you-"

For a moment he thought the boy would flee, but after an awkward pause, social etiquette apparently prompted him to approach them instead. He definitely looked like he wished to be elsewhere though, as evident in the tension running through his entire body. His posture could only be described as straight as a rod but he kept walking until he stopped a mere few steps from the table, hands clenched by his sides.

Chanyeol knew he had to play his cards right now, so he aimed for a light, laid-back tone.

"Hi. You must be Jongdae's brother?"

He could feel his doormmates' questioning gazes burn holes into his head, but Chanyeol didn't pay them any heed, instead focusing on the way the other's eyes widened in surprise.

"My brother mentioned me?"

His voice was softer than his features let on, which were fine, but probably intimidating to other people around their age, with his defined jawline, straight brows, and inky black hair. Going by looks alone, he looked much more aristocratic than Jongdae, if not princely. He was much taller, too.

"Occasionally," he replied with a small shrug. "I mean, he's not exactly a chatterbox."

None of his friends seemed ready to mock him, too caught up processing this new information.

The surprise wouldn't leave the others face, like he was every bit as fascinated by them as vice versa.

"He didn't mention it to me," Jongin said outright, all the previous formalities forgotten in lieu of his usual, open-minded friendliness. "What's your name?"

For a moment, he hesitated. It made Chanyeol wonder whether he'd had to keep his identity a secret before.

"Sehun," he mumbled eventually, eyes not quite meeting any of theirs. "Are you Jongdae's friends?"

There was the faintest hint of a lisp dusting his words, and Chanyeol added it to the list of obvious differences between him and Jongdae. He'd be a liar to deny the uncomfortable sensation from a good ten minutes ago sitting in his stomach still, but it was hard to link it to this awkward boy subtly clenching his fists by his side. He was so, so young.

The way he held himself, the way he walked and talked and looked at them (or avoided such) lacked much of the typical, noble purpose still. If he had to guess, he'd assume the other had not been around many other nobles yet - there was an almost innocent air to him in that regard.

"We're his doormmates," Yixing agreed easily, ignoring the way Sehun eyed him almost warily.

"And friends, too, though he'll probably deny it to hell and back," Luhan joked. Sehun didn't even crack a smile at that.

"How old are you, if I may ask?" Yixing tried, mirroring Chanyeol's tone now.

"16," Sehun replied dutifully, only for Yixing to half coo at him.

"That means you'll be attending the Red Sun academy yourself soon, doesn't it? Unless you'll choose another school, that is."

Sehun shook his head.

"Every Kim- everybody goes there. So I'll go there as well."

"You don't sound the slightest bit worried about the entrance exam," Luhan grumbled, more to himself, than anything, but Sehun clearly heard it, judging by his reddening ears.

"I'll try my best to get accepted," he corrected himself.

"Do you already have a club in mind?" Yixing continued the gentle interview bridging the awkwardness. That seemed to throw the boy off guard.

"A club?" he echoed.

"Forgot those existed, didn't you?" Chanyeol asked jokingly, watching the nervous way his fingers scraped over the headrest of the sofa. "Must be a family thing."

"No, but... I don't really know yet," he admitted, not even picking up on the last jab. "What club is my brother in?"

"What kind of club do you think he's in?" Chanyeol asked right back, before one of the others could spill the truth.

Sehun looked taken aback once more, making Chanyeol wonder whether he was used to any human interaction at all, or whether people just didn't normally ask for his opinion - or asked him questions, for that matter.

He thought about it, however, blinking as he tried to find a quick answer.

"What clubs are there?" was what he settled on. A smart move to ask for more information and buy himself more time before making what appeared to be a hard guess to him. Maybe Chanyeol was reading too much into him now.

Together, they listed all up all the clubs, and Sehun hummed in thought. It was endearing how he treated this like a complex numerical problem, one that should be taken seriously.

"Maybe... the photography club? Or maybe the fencing one, since he's good at that," he added, clearly self-conscious over his first guess. While the others got a chuckle out of it, Chanyeol wasn't sure whether he felt impressed or sad.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, trying to sound neutral.

"I don't know," Sehun admitted. "It would suit him. Maybe."

"I've been gone for hardly more than ten minutes and you're bothering people already?"

Sehun flinched, quick to take a step back when none other than Jongdae joined them, arms crossed and looking vaguely unimpressed. Jongdae wasn't even looking at him though.

"I can't take you anywhere, it seems. Leave him alone."

When he turned to Sehun, it was with a sigh.

"I'm sorry on their behalf."

Sehun - who seemed more tense than before, if that was even possible - could only shake his head.

"We didn't know you had a brother," Jongin voiced what most of them were thinking - except for Chanyeol, who faked a sudden interest in the shiny floor when Jongdae glared at him.

"It was my fault," Sehun hurried, looking like a scolded child. "I initiated it."

Jongdae looked doubtful, at best, and Chanyeol took that little distraction to strike.

"We were just talking about club activities," he began, deceivingly casual. "And Sehun here thinks you're in the photography club."

Now Sehun was (weakly) glaring at him in embarrassment, and it was Jongdae's turn to look surprised - though in his case, it was so subtle of a change that it could be confused for irritation.

"What brought you to that conclusion?" was all he asked.

"What club are you in?" Sehun asked right back in sheer self-defense. Jongdae crossed his arms, expression blank again.

"None."

Sehun seemed to deflate at that.

"Oh," he muttered. "That makes sense."

"Don't worry. It's not obligatory to be boring," Chanyeol quipped. "You should choose a club if you attend the academy. They're a lot of fun."

Now that Jongdae was actually present, Sehun shot him a wary look, as if he expected repercussions for someone - a commoner, no less - daring to be so bold.

Jongdae's reaction came so naturally, it might as well be a trained reflex at this point.

"I didn't realize you're the one setting the standards here," he jabbed right back. "But I can assure you I am able to fill my own free time just fine and it does not involve me being splattered in dirt for fun."

"It's okay to be inept when it comes to technology," Chanyeol said, purposefully patronizing, before turning to Sehun. "You're welcome to join the engineering club any time. We're doing some cool stuff there."

"No, thank you," Sehun said straight away, looking and sounding very much like a pouty child.

Luhan snorted.

"Understandable. I wouldn't wanna associate with him either."

"The literature club is a lot of fun, too," Jongin chimed in, and while Sehun did seem more interested in what Jongin had to say, Jongdae decided that this was quite enough.

"As riveting as your attempts to corrupt my brother may be to you," he began with his arms crossed, "may I remind you that this is not a vacation but a field trip? We're already late enough as is."

"You know, there's really no need to further prove how boring you are," Chanyeol retorted, rolling his eyes. "We believe you already."

They did relent though, if only to finally leave this place. It was quite surprising how Chanyeol had almost managed to forget about their surroundings, if just for a moment. He was reminded immediately when they waved Sehun goodbye though.

"It was nice meeting you," Sehun said awkwardly, clearly not knowing what to say to Jongdae. "I'll see you around?"

Jongdae nodded.

"For the holidays, I assume," he replied and, after a brief pause, "take care."

Sehun bit back on a smile. Like this, he didn't look all that noble anymore.

"You too."

He was looking after them with an odd sense of wonder, one that Chanyeol couldn't help committing to memory as he turned around one last time before the doors closed and they were out in the open again - leaving this careful, awkward boy behind in a mansion that was way too large, way too polished and way too empty. A mansion that Jongdae called home. Then again, Chanyeol couldn't remember him ever using that exact term.

"Your brother is surprisingly cute," Luhan commented the moment they had left the estate, with Jongin and Yifan agreeing in a heartbeat.

Jongdae just sighed in mild exasperation.

"And he's so fond of you," Yixing commented with a smile. "It's quite heartwarming."

"I would hardly label it fondness," Jongdae brushed him off with a skeptic glance.

Chanyeol hummed, hands shoved into his pockets.

"Me neither. He straight up adores you," he claimed with utter certainty, watching the incredulity put a crack into the other's facade.

"What are you even talking about?"

"Didn't you see the way he was looking at you?" Jongin inquired, looking amused. "Now I get what my parents meant when they told me I'd always look at my sisters like they put the stars in the sky."

"Now this is a little dramatic, don't you think?"

"Tell that to him," Chanyeol half-joked.

The look Jongdae gave him clearly spelled out that he had not forgotten about the fact that Chanyeol had spilled the news about his brother in the first place. Not like he was doing a good job at being intimidating. The lightest hue of pink dusting his cheeks may have something to do with it.

"You know, they're similar in one way at least," Chanyeol began, hands shoved in his pocket as he acted like Jongdae wasn't even present. "I bet if anyone told Sehun that his brother adores him, he'd make the exact same face as him."

"Shut up," Jongdae demanded, way too fragile to be taken seriously at all.

Luhan snorted, and Yifan was clearly biting back on a grin as well.

It was easy to fill the silence like this, and Jongdae seemed genuinely invested and mentally present. Maybe more so than Chanyeol, who was itching to ask what this entire meeting had been about and whether he was in trouble or anything. His pride wouldn't let him though, and his conscience backed him up with the comforting argument that Jongdae would not divulge any information, anyway. For some reason, he was perfectly sure about that.

"I think I pulled a muscle," Luhan groaned many hours later, from where he was sitting on the ground with his back leaned against the hotel bed. "Or ten. And by pulled, I really mean ripped."

"Stop being so dramatic," Yixing sighed, but he himself was lying on the bed, showing no signs of working on his report or even considering that much. Chanyeol - who had won their game of rock, paper, scissors and was already freshly showered just like Yixing - didn't even manage a reply other than a vague hum, cheek mashed against the sheets.

The Imperial Army had only had them join for the evening drills but that was enough for Chanyeol to feel like he was dying. His legs in particular felt so wobbly that he was pretty sure he'd move like a sickly turtle for the next few days.

When Jongin entered the room with Jongdae in tow, he let out a content sigh.

"That was quite the refreshing workout, wasn't it?" he asked with a tired, but nonetheless sunny smile.

Chanyeol deemed it worth the exertion to turn over and give Jongin a disbelieving stare. Behind him, Jongdae looked borderline disturbed over the other's attitude.

"God, I knew you're not human," Luhan groaned. "And don't even try to tell me your morning stretches led to this monstrous constitution."

"They do help," Jongin smiled, flopping on his bed. Yixing didn't even twitch.

"It's mostly due to my lance training and dancing though. I suppose."

"When do you even do all that? Weren't you a member of the literature club?" Chanyeol asked, purposefully not looking Jongdae's way as he took his hairdryer and disappeared into the bathroom again. “Aren’t you supposed to sit around and read and not exercise?”

Jongin shrugged.

"Whenever I'm free. It just turns into a habit at some point, really."

"I can't wait for our combat lessons to allow weapons of choice," Luhan sighed. "I'm itching to see you in action with a weapon you're confident in. You'll probably wipe the floor with Huang and Co."

"You're exaggerating," Jongin waved him off, reaching for his notes. "So, are you all done with your reports already?"

They groaned in unison.

By the time the lights were switched off, it was well after midnight and Chanyeol could only blearily thank this day for being as rough as it was. At least he didn't have the strength to care about sharing a bed with Jongdae now, or agonizing over whether or not the other had read anything into their previous incident. Right then, he just needed to sleep. Jongdae could be lying on top of him and he wouldn't give a damn.

He'd barely even finished the thought when it joined the others and turned into goo, luring him into a pool of much anticipated darkness.

When Chanyeol awoke, it was still dark. Still night. It felt like every single fiber in his body was screaming, and with a sigh, he turned to his other side, snuggling closer into the soft blankets. It was then that he realized it wasn't the pain that had woken him.

Jongdae's breathing was weird. It sounded ragged, with forceful, sharp inhales and exhales that didn't seem to follow any particular pattern. His first assumption was that Jongdae was touching himself but the thought was fleeting - just as Chanyeol was gradually coming to, the noises seemed to slip into focus, as well, and they didn't sound pleasure-driven in the slightest. Something was wrong.

He reached out, blindly feeling for the other's shoulder.

Tense. Jongdae was so tense he was shaking, and he didn't show any reaction when Chanyeol carefully shook him.

"Hey," he whispered, slipping closer to get a better hold of him, palm wandering down from the top of his shoulder to get a hold of his arm. "Hey-"

His fingers brushed the other's knuckles, felt his fingers tighten in almost spasmodic manner. It took him a moment to interpret what he was feeling. Jongdae was clutching his own upper arms, pressing down, scratching himself through the fabric. Reflexively, Chanyeol grabbed his wrist, thumb pressing into his palm as he wrestled his hand away. It required a surprising amount of force but his advantage in size and raw strength was enough to overpower Jongdae - who still seemed to be asleep, judging by the small, pained sounds coming from the back of his throat. Chanyeol held him still for a moment before reaching around to grab his other wrist. Jongdae's now free hand clawed into Chanyeol's arm instead, and if he weren't so sleepy, he would have winced. As it was, however, he only grunted, holding Jongdae a little tighter, pressing him against his chest as he continued to try and rouse him.

"Hey," he'd whisper over and over again, his tone morphing from alarmed to soothing, but never rising in volume. It might be silly, but he'd feel bad for alerting everyone about this. Whatever this was, it was a matter of mind, not physical well-being.

"Jongdae," he murmured, as quietly as he could, and the effect was instantaneous. He could feel a different kind of tension run through his body as the other was startled awake with a small gasp.

For two long seconds, it was perfectly quiet. Then Jongdae exhaled, a bit of the tension bleeding out - though he was still holding onto Chanyeol's arm.

Chanyeol didn't move, carefully focusing on using his remaining senses to gauge the situation. He listened to the others breathing, his repeated swallowing as he tried to soothe his throat in between trying to find a healthy rhythm.

Chanyeol wholeheartedly expected a kick, or maybe an elbow to the ribs - anything that would put distance between them after coming to under these circumstances. It would be the most natural reaction, really. Jongdae wasn't moving at all though. He was simply lying there, possibly shell-shocked, not having moved a muscle. Chanyeol would have given him space, of course, if not for the fact that he was still holding onto his forearm, the other hand curled around Chanyeol’s. The grip wasn't aiming to hurt anymore, blunt nails replaced with fingertips pressing into his skin. It occurred to him then that Jongdae's nails were perfectly manicured, so he shouldn't have been able to inflict any serious harm through his sleepwear, anyway.

The silence stretched on, and it made him nervous. He wanted to say something, he really did, but nothing would come out. There really wasn't anything to say right now. Whatever this was, Jongdae would not open up about it, and Chanyeol could only guess that it had something to do with meeting his father earlier. Or maybe with the stress that came from visiting this city. It could be an entirely unrelated matter, too, but something about that theory didn't seem right to Chanyeol. He couldn't put his finger on it though.

Even when Jongdae's breathing had finally calmed down, he seemed every bit as unwilling as Chanyeol to break the silence. Or to break free from his hold. Chanyeol could feel his shoulders draw up, but it was hard to take it as a sign of discomfort when he was tightening the hold onto him the way he did. So he responded in the only, logical way, and pulled him in close as he settled into a more comfortable position. Because this wasn't about their petty disputes. It wasn't about pride, either - at least not about Chanyeol's pride.

Sure, he couldn't deny that the way he was twitching upon having Jongdae's behind pressed against his groin was mortifying, but Jongdae didn't move away, so Chanyeol stayed as he was as well.

Like this, he was hyper aware of how much smaller Jongdae was, with his narrow waist making it easy to keep an arm curled around him. His hands were sturdy though, with no trace of delicacy to be found, even as his grip loosened gradually.

Determined to have Jongdae fall asleep first, Chanyeol allowed his thoughts to wander, mentally looking back on their field trip that was now officially over.
Bareahard had been quite the magnificent town and every bit a noble breeding ground as they had been told. And Jongdae had been rigid as a stick for most of the trip - despite his very cool, dismissive conversations with random nobles not showing any of it. Even after meeting up with his father for some supposedly serious discussion, he hadn't even shown a glimpse of... anything, really. He'd simply continued on with his day as if it hadn't taken place, having apparently no urge at all to share his thoughts or feelings.

Chanyeol thought back to the way he'd fixed his hair, had borrowed Yixing’s brooch and rightened his uniform simply to face his own father.

It hit him right then and there, a seemingly random memory popping up and completing the picture - back when Chanyeol had applied the wet packs, he had seen them himself; the seemingly random, fine scars that seemed to focus on his upper arms. This wasn't even close to being a first time occurrence for him.

Apparently, even the great Kim Jongdae couldn't control himself in his sleep.
Apparently, wandering around like nothing could ever touch you came at a price, after all.

It answered a few of the questions Chanyeol had had, though the new-found realization didn't bring him any satisfaction.

It wasn't... fair.

He'd often thought that in the past, usually referring to commoners like him and his friends being disadvantaged. Now he thought of marbled hallways and chandeliers that were too far up to count the lights; of people scrambling to bow, to smile, to stare. Of being drilled into standing up straight at all times, keeping your thoughts to yourself.

He also thought of the Duke - this mighty, judgemental person that resembled another, even harsher trial rather than support.

It wasn't fair.

'He's just a boy your age,' Yifan's mother had said. Maybe he was starting to understand why that statement had struck a nerve. Or maybe he wasn't understanding anything at all - there really was no telling with Jongdae. His fingers were still curled around Chanyeol's though, so he decided to listen to that, trusting that it was saying something. Jongdae had already dozed off again, prompting Chanyeol to do the same. He blamed it on the exhaustion how easy it was to sleep like this, holding Jongdae close while he buried his nose in the others hair.

It smelled like the free shampoo the hotel had provided them with.

Hello~

I've been itching to get to this chapter to be honest. Also, while I don't usually refer to the source material a lot, this chapter was inspired by the Duke's family mansion from the game - because despite the slightly old graphics, it really left an impression on me:
All the glitz and glamour
Look at how tiny the maid is in comparison!
That aside, it's getting really cold here so I hope you guys stay healthy and I wish you no runny noses under your masks *haha*

Love,
Sugary