Sunday finds Jongin knelt beside his father beneath the faded canopy of their stall at the market. Barely two weeks have passed since the young man temporarily moved into the palace yet he had been embarrassingly filled with emotion when he had arrived at the market earlier that morning to see his aged father setting up the tarp on his own. It had been many years that Jinki had not come to the market since Jongin and his popularity took over, and the younger carpenter had had a strange sense of forlornness when the image of his old father had overlapped with the young and energetic man Jinki once was. But the years had not dulled the older Kim’s vibrancy and his smile at the sight of his son could have lit up all of the city on a foggy day.

“What an honor,” he’d jested, “For this lowly woodworker to be visited by such an artisan.”

After waving off the older man’s teasing and giving his father a quick and manly embrace, the younger carpenter had set about helping his father prepare for the market, relishing in the almost forgotten familiarity of working with the older man to prepare their wares.

“Many of these are mine, aren’t they? Couldn’t depend on your own skill to sell, old man?”

“Why bother ever working again when I can ride on the coattails of such an accomplished son?”

Jongin could only laugh shyly and nudge his father who was smiling with sincere pride under the teasing glint in his eyes. The man sobers down once they settle on cushions behind their items. When Jinki speaks again his voice is lowered, barely audible among the usual market ruckus. 

“How have you been, Jonginnie? You’re mother has been worrying. She keeps expecting guards to show up at the door and examine the rest of us.”

“She’ll hunch her own back under the weight of all her worrying,” scoffs Jongin. Then in a gentler tone, “I’ve been careful not to use my magic since entering the palace.”

Jinki hums in understanding then looks at his son curiously.

“Is that… difficult? I don’t think you’ve ever gone so long without doing some little tricks.”

Jongin shrugs. “I haven’t really been carving anything since I got there.” He laughs at his father’s incredulous look; “The Queen is very particular! I’ve still mostly been sketching and discussing the pros and cons of working with different wood types.” 

He pauses for a moment.

“It mostly feels… lonely sometimes. Like there’s something I was looking forward to but I forgot what it was, if that makes sense. I don’t know, I guess it’s just a little weird.”

They sit in silence for a moment watching the early market patrons milling around, trying to ensure that they get the best pick of everything. 

“How is she? Other than worrying her head off.”

“Oh, you know your mother. She keeps the rest of us in line. Rahee has been missing you terribly, she keeps asking when Innie’s coming home.”

Jongin smiles fondly at that. “I could come home for dinner? The Queen gave me the entire day, so as long as I go back to the palace before the sun is down…”

“These days that’s barely six o’clock! We can just close the stall a little early and have you home for tea, hmm? Besides, I’m sure you’ve become used to meals much more luxurious than what we can provide.”

“You know nobody can match Jung Ah’s cooking,” responds his son and they share a dreamy look at the thought of the middle sister’s expertise in the kitchen. Jongin smiles sheepishly at his father.

“Look at me. It’s not even three full weeks and I’m missing home like this.”

“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind. Don’t ever get married to a foreign lady and leave us, Jongin-ah.” 

Jinki does not miss the pensive expression that suddenly takes over his son’s face. Ever since the previous Wednesday, the Queen’s words had not left Jongin’s mind

This little bit of control that you have, this one decision that is yours and yours alone to make. You can act, or you can be idle.

Jongin did not know if it was to the same extent as his own feelings, but he was now beyond doubt that Lord Do definitely held a special interest in him. From the singer’s annoyance at his apparent closeness with the Queen to the obvious attempts on Wednesday to spend time alone together. It had to be more than just wishful thinking on Jongin’s part at this point. Since Wednesday the carpenter had been progressively bolder with the King’s singer; reaching out to hold his elbow or the small of his back on their evening walks together, speaking more familiarly when it was just the two of them. Overall Kyungsoo’s reactions had been positive, or at least he had not shown any outright aversion to Jongin’s closeness. 

“What’s this suspicious silence all of a sudden? Are you hiding someone from your family?”

“Of course not, father,” laughs the young man, blushing slightly at being caught spacing out. “I’d tell you, right?”

Jinki looks as if he wants to say something, hesitant expression on his features, before it evens out into a placating smile.

“Right.”

Jongin returns to the palace just as the sun is beginning to rest its heavy weight on the horizon. He can’t help but feel a bit melancholic leaving behind the familiarity of the town and his family home. 

He and his father had decided to call it a day around two in the afternoon, when only two wooden bowls and an intricately carved yutnori set were left on the mantle. Jongin had teased his father about the bowls that were both his works, but defended that it was too early in the season for people to be playing yut when the older man made a jab about the sticks and board Jongin had carved about three months ago.

When they had arrived at the house Rahee had barely been able to contain herself, the little girl dragging Jongin around as if he’d been gone for years and she had to reintroduce him to everything. Gwiboon had scolded him with suspiciously moist eyes, asking if he’d been eating well and washing behind his ears everyday. To Jongin’s surprise, and admittedly, his relief, Taemin had arrived an hour or so after him and his father with the familiar carpenter’s tool kit. Apparently he had taken it upon himself to help Jinki with his regular jobs while Jongin was away, leaving the forge to his elder brother, Minho, and his apprentice. 

Jung Ah and Jin Hee had insisted on preparing a miniature feast despite it being just after lunch time. They scrounged up extra side dishes in addition to the jiggae they had prepared earlier and popped open a bottle of makgeolli for the adults to share. By the time the sky had begun to darken and Jongin had to head out, the men of the house were rosy cheeked and laughing loudly. He wondered if every day with his family had always been so wonderfully bright. 

He remembered with a little guilt the conversation he’d had with his father earlier about marrying and going somewhere far from his parents. Jongin wondered what it would be like, if he ever had to introduce Kyungsoo to his parents. That line of thought proved a bit too much for the young man in his slightly inebriated state, as he felt his cheeks begin to heat up and what must have been a ridiculous smile spread across his face. He ambled slowly across the darkening palace grounds on his way to the building where his room was, inhaling the early September air and now thinking about the smaller man. He hadn’t seen Kyungsoo since Friday afternoon, the older man taking the weekend to prepare for his audience with the King’s family that was visiting the coming week. Even Baekhyun had been missing from breakfast on Saturday morning and Jongin was embarrassed to admit it had been a little quite without the loud mouthed assistant. 

Thoughts of the little lord’s recent absence and the melancholy of missing his family mixed with the alcohol sloshing in his gut to create a sudden and pungent desire to see Kyungsoo. He wondered distractedly if the elder would even be in his room yet. He can hear the faint voices coming from the main dining hall signifying the ongoing royal dinner, and the singer often joined the royal family for supper in case it should ever take their fancy to hear a song after a meal. Considering his upcoming performance, though, Jongin guessed that the singer would probably retire early to rest his voice or look over his music again. 

His body has already changed direction towards Kyungsoo’s quarters before he’s even finished thinking all this through. Lanterns light the hallway to Kyungsoo’s room and Jongin feels anticipation growing in him at the thought of seeing the little lord, hearing his voice for the first time in almost three days. Though he’d gone more than eighteen years without hearing it, suddenly just a few hours without the dulcet tones feels like the worst kind of deprivation. If there had been nothing dulling his senses, perhaps Jongin would feel surprised or even embarrassed at his own desperation, but he can only think of Kyungsoo, his voice, his presence. He rounds the corner sharply, almost tripping over his feet, and his chest swells with relief when he sees a figure standing by Kyungsoo’s door. Even in his slight intoxication, however, Jongin quickly realizes that the figure is too tall to be the object of his affection. 

The person leans into the doorway, as if hesitating to go all the way in. The light in the room is dulled and the candle lanterns in the hallway cast a shadow over the person’s back, their face obscured from where Jongin stands, but the figure is still somehow familiar. The topknot shows that it cannot be Baekhyun or Sehun, who keep their hair shorter, but Jongin cannot imagine who else would be visiting Kyungsoo at this hour. The little lord is impossible to see form his angle, but Jongin’s lovestruck ears imagine they can pick up the tenor of the older man’s voice. The strange figure leans heavily into the doorway and seems to say something, an arm reaching out to disappear into the room. Something about the figure’s posture unsettles Jongin and he he shuffles back uncertainly when they suddenly straighten out and away from the doorway. Jongin instinctively hides behind the wall without even knowing why he does so. If the person walks this way he will look even more suspicious lurking behind a corner than if he had just continued walking with purpose. With this thought he straightens out and turns the corner confidently almost crashing face first into King Minseok. The King’s eye’s widen and he reaches out to steady the taller man, a polite smile already gracing his features. 

“Jongin-ssi! What a surprise to see you here. How was your day with your family? Do they hate me for stealing their son away?”

“N-not at all, My Lord!” Stutters Jongin after picking his jaw up from the ground. Why isn’t the King having supper with his wife and the other courtesans? Was he discussing the upcoming performance with Kyungsoo?

“Are you heading back to your room? I’ll accompany you, I’m heading back that way as well. Think I’ll turn in early today.” 

He smiles amicably up at the carpenter who flounders, unsure of how to respond. Can he even turn down the King? He must not be as discreet as he thinks he is because Minseok follows his wavering gaze over his shoulder and turns back to Jongin with realization in his features. 

“Or maybe you’re not quite ready for bed yet…” he says with a tight lipped smile. 

“I just thought I’d take a bath first, My Lord,” says Jongin weakly. Something about the King’s expression deters the young man from revealing his true intentions. King Minseok’s expression immediately relaxes into an indulgent smile. 

“I see,” he says, “The drink has you a little turned around, huh?” He winks and laughs at Jongin’s embarrassed expression. The King must be able to smell the dregs of the alcohol on his breath, though Jongin is quickly beginning to feel the warm effects of the drink drop with his mood. 

“It’s the hallway just before this one. I’ll take you halfway there; there’s a stairway up to my quarters from the bath entrance. Let’s make sure you make it, hm?” 

His tone is jovial enough but Jongin can’t help the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. He nods along and follows the King with one last wistful look at the now dark doorway of Kyungsoo’s room.