The week moves in a blur for Jongin and it’s Wednesday morning before he can even blink. 

Baekhyun and Sehun are both absent from breakfast and he finds that Moonkyu is rather enjoyable company when he doesn’t have an audience to be a fool for. The man is also toned down from the exhaustion of staying up late and waking up obscenely early to make preparations for the special evening. Instead of meeting the Queen by the dining room that is crawling with servants preparing for the guests, he meets her in the Courtyard with the oak tree where they have sat to sketch and plan the last few days. Lady Chen has finally decided on the hair style she wants immortalized and has brought Jongin a headpiece with the hair attached so that he can capture it in perfect detail. Jongin couldn’t control his shocked expression at the sight of all the synthetic hair, causing Lady Chen to laugh fondly. 

“It’s just the top part, my real hair will fall out underneath. But this is the most intricate of it all so I thought I’d let you get up close and personal with it. Sorry Jonginnie, dear, I can’t really be with you long today. Oh, you should have just stayed some time with your family, the palace is such a mess when guests come over,” she says remorsefully. 

“It’s alright, My Lady. I think once I get a detailed sketch of this, I’ll finally be able to start carving. I’m the one who’s sorry, taking up your time every day.”

“Not at all, darling! It’s more fun than what I usually do,” she says with a wink. A servant approaches them with an anxious look on her young face but Lady Chen waves at her dismissively before she can say anything.

“Yes, I know, I know. Well, I’ll leave it to your capable hands Jongin-ah. I should go oversee the preparation for the guest rooms before Sunmee pops a blood vessel. Don’t ruin that hair piece, you wouldn’t believe how much it costs!” She flutters the tips of her fingers as she turns to follow the handmaiden back towards the main building.

“My lady!” Jongin calls her suddenly and she half turns to him. He feels bad when the young handmaiden, Sunmee, throws him an exasperated look.  “Um, what time is the, uh, performance?” He’s met with a blank look and a raised eyebrow. “Um, Kyungsoo-ssi…” He doesn’t know why he feels so embarrassed asking. 

The Lady’s face lights up with realization.

“Oh! I forget you two are previously acquainted. I suppose you’ve never heard him sing before? An absolute treat! There’s no set time really, hmm. I’ll send Sunmee darling to fetch you? I’m sure we can find a spot for you to listen.” With one last careless wave she’s gone before Jongin can ask anything else.

********

It’s been a few hours since the sun had sunk, and Jongin had given up all pretenses of trying to work with the last of its rays. The Lady’s hair piece, which honestly creeped Jongin out if he looked at it for too long, was tucked safely away in his room along with a dark, thick piece of burl wood which Lady Chen had already approved of for the hair. He was sitting just outside of the main building of the palace where he had first met the King and Queen.  From inside he could hear sounds of merriment as the guests enjoyed a seemingly endless dinner party, laughter and music assailing his anxious ears. He recognized some of the wind instruments playing and thought maybe he could hear a string or two, but thus far there had been no singing. Lady Chen wouldn’t have forgotten about him…. Would she? Maybe, he thought for what must’v been the thousandth time in the last hour, he should move closer to the hall. Just in case Sunmee was sent to fetch him and couldn’t find him in the dark. But the courtyard was well lit and Jongin knew better than to wander into the midst of a King’s party uninvited. 

A cold gust of wind tugged at the robes around his body and Jongin’s fingers curled around the wood he’d been carving while he waited, rather pathetically, to be summoned. His grandfather’s old whittling knife was warm in his palm from being held for so long, and the soft heat seemed to wander up his arm to the rest of his body. The stag beetle he’d been carving now sat finished in his hands and Jongin realized with dismay he had no other wood on him to carve anything else. The beetle looked up at him expectantly with beady wooden eyes and Jongin was momentarily distracted by thoughts of Rahee, his little bug, and the home where he was safe to manipulate the wood as he wanted. He remembered when his father had asked him how it felt to go so long without indulging in his magic. It was a bit like the anticipation of eating your favorite meal after a long day, only to come home and find someone else had polished it off first.

Jongin swallowed nervously as he cast an eye towards the source of sound where the party went on without him. Surely a little magic-

Wait. Magic.

Like a pop in his ears when climbing down a mountain Jongin suddenly recalled Kyungsoo’s nervous face when he had invited Jongin to hear him sing. 

 ”I will be performing for them that evening.  I know it is still some days away but… I would very much like if you could listen.”

The way Kyungsoo had seemed so flustered, struggling to keep eye contact, and his relief when Jongin had accepted. Jongin felt like a fool for not having realized it before now. Just a few weeks of exposure to Kyungsoo’s voice seemed to have wiped his memory of all the years he’d spent unable to see the little lord’s face and the reason it’d been kept hidden.

Kyungsoo’s magic.

In the whirlwind of the weeks since he’d come to the palace and his preoccupation with trying to win Kyungsoo’s heart, Jongin had all but forgotten who Kyungsoo even was to the Emperor and all of the rumors surrounding him. The enchanted Song Bird whose voice held magic, whose face had been hidden from the common people since he was a child of barely thirteen. 

Jongin’s head is whirling and his gut feels woozy with the multitude of emotions fighting for dominance within him. He feels like a fool for not having realized it sooner; after all  the origin of his fascination with Kyungsoo was their supposed connection as magic users. He also wonders if this is some kind of mutual exchange, Kyungsoo feeling obligated to show Jongin his magic after Jongin had accidentally revealed himself that day in the market.

But underlying everything else there is a wild giddiness bubbling inside of him that in this coveted performance which only royalty and the like could attend, Jongin would be there because the owner of the voice wanted to share it with him. 

A shrill and short cry breaks Jongin from his daze and he whips around to see the handmaiden Sunmee crouched over with her arms swatting hazardously around her body. The carpenter rushes over to see what’s wrong.

“Are you alright?” He asks as he looks around for the problem. The maiden is already straightening herself out, an embarrassed look on her face as she looks around as well.

“I- I thought there was a bug… I’m sorry, I’ve never been good with insects. Ugh, I can’t wait for winter when they all go away. I promise it was just flying around here, it was huge!” 

Jongin balks at her words and notices that though his grandfather’s knife is still safely clutched in his right hand, the wooden beetle he’d been carving is gone. Sunmee is still looking around warily as if waiting for a swarm of her hated insects to come after her and Jongin jumps to distract her.

“Did Her Highness send for me?” He asks after clearing his throat.
“Oh, yes. The guests have just finished desert and Lord Do will probably come out to perform while more drinks are served. My Lady invites you to join her.”

Jongin tries not to come off as a lunatic in his eagerness and has to his lips and clear his throat a few times before he can produce an appropriate answer.

“That’s…. Nice.” Very nice, indeed, Jongin. Idiot. 

Sunmee gives him an almost reproachful look, likely not impressed by his lack of reverence at being invited to join the Queen of the country for the rather auspicious occasion of her birthday concert. 

“Quite. If you’ll just follow me, then.” 

Jongin’s heart is pounding in his ears as he enters the room full of rosy-faced nobility. The lord’s and ladies are seated on luxurious cushions surrounding a long table with the king and the queen at the head. Even King Minseok is looking rather flushed around his face and neck as empty glasses of soju and bowls half filled with maekolli litter the table. Sunmee pulls Jongin towards a small group of servants standing off to the side of the room, waiting to remove dishes from the table or refill empty glasses when necessary. Sehun is there and his usually impassive expression brightens at the sight of Jongin.

“Are you… here to help with something?” He asks curiously.

“No, I came to hear Lord Do sing,” he says, feeling shy again for some reason. Sehun’s brows raise slightly in understanding and he turns back to the table of nobles where conversation has suddenly started to quiet. The musicians towards the front of the room have also stopped playing their instruments. King Minseok has a hand raised and he waits for all noise to completely cease before he starts talking. 

“I would like to thank you all again,” he begins, “For traveling to my home to celebrate my beloved wife’s birthday. I hope that you have been enjoying the evening thus far,” the nobles cheer and raise their glasses to acknowledge the King, “and that the rest of your visit will continue to be comfortable and pleasurable.” 

He takes a moment to smile at the guests and acknowledge their own responses and words of gratitude for the King’s hospitality. The sound of a door closing gets Jongin’s attention and his breath is stolen for a moment as he sees Kyungsoo come into the room, followed closely by Baekhyun who is holding a tray with a kettle, of what must be tea, and a cup. The singer is wearing a deep blue hanbok with red designs alone the sleeves and the bottom. He must be wearing some kind of makeup because his skin shines beneath the low light in the room and his lips are tinted pink like cherry blossoms in the heart of spring. Jongin swallows heavily, unable to look away as the King begins talking again. 

“We have prepared for you a performance from the most esteemed musician in my court. Lord Do has a voice that rivals even the nightingale. I believe you will all agree after he has sung for us.”

Jongin feels like he’s in a dream, palms sweating and head so light on his shoulders he’s worried it’ll roll off. Kyungsoo entrances him. The subtle flutter of his eyelashes and the movement of a moist pink tongue wetting plump lips captivate the carpenter so completely that he knows there is no hiding the passion on his face. 

Look at me, he wills Kyungsoo as the singer takes a step forward with a gracious nod amidst the polite applause from his audience. 

Look at me.

It’s like a prayer uttered in the deepest part of his mind; the darkest, most selfish part, that wished he held the key to the cage Kyungsoo lived in and that the song bird would sing for no one but him. 

Jongin hates himself before the thought has even fully formed but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because in that moment Kyungsoo looks up and deep onyx eyes meet long hazel ones.

Kyungsoo looks at Jongin, opens his mouth, and sings. 

The sound of his voice fills the air as if it had substance, weighing down all other noise until nothing can be heard but song. No instruments accompany him but they are not missed; Jongin thinks later that they would have only been an interruption to the music of Kyungsoo’s voice. 

In the moment, though, there are no thoughts in his mind. If he were asked later, he probably wouldn’t even be able to describe how he was feeling listening to that precious voice which had been guarded like a secret for so many years. What the song was about, or if there were even any words at all, Jongin couldn’t say. All he knew was that Kyungsoo was singing and as he did, his eyes never left Jongin’s.

Lying in his bed that night, the sound of Kyungsoo’s voice still filling his head beyond capacity, Jongin suddenly realizes something. Though enraptured, he had felt nothing else beyond the ordinary while listening to Kyungsoo sing. He’d not payed much attention to the rest of the audience during the performance, but clearly remembered the applause and praise from the nobles and the sighs of appreciation from the servants. There was no strange behavior among the crowd, no fogginess in Jongin’s own mind or unwarranted movements of his body. There was nothing at all really that could have passed as an indication of magic. So were all the rumors nothing more than just that? Idle prattle and tall tails born from mundane lifestyles that long for something more. 

Jongin turns over on his ondol and stares into the darkness of his room, trying not to dwell on the disappointment laying heavy in his stomach.