Minseok is emotionless as he thanks his people for supporting him and coming to his ball, bowing to each in turn because he can’t be known as rude to his people. They’re new to him, but they’re his and they have to like and trust him.

  Conceal. He thinks, tugging on his gloves absentmindedly. Control it, or hurt the ones around you. The new responsibility weighs on him. He has to do business now, he has to go to meetings, do trade with other kingdoms. The idea makes his stomach churn, makes him wish he ate because he suddenly feels very empty and lonely and where are Jongin and Jongdae?

   “Minseok!” Jongdae bumps into him from behind, and he has to reach out a hand to steady him, remember how bad he was on his feet. “I-I I mean, King Minseok. Uhm. I have a question regarding Prince Yixing of Beijing.”   

  “Go ahead,” Minseok smiles towards Yixing, noticing the hand he has placed on the small of his back and his heart hurting. Jongdae deserves someone, deserves to be happy, so why does seeing him happy hurt him like this?

  “We wish to marry,” Jongdae’s smile is warm and it should make him happy to see him happy, but all he wants is to close the gates, gather him in his arms and apologize for not being there, tell him how much he needs him.

  A little behind him, Jongin enters with a man and they head over to him, the mans hand on his elbow as they walk. “You can’t,” Minseok tells him, beginning to back up because he can’t handle Jongdae’s broken expression. “I’m sorry, Jongdae. You may not marry him.”

  “Well, why not?” The question lingers in his head in Jongin’s voice, now standing beside him. “Shouldn’t they be allowed?”

  “No,” Minseok tells him, “They just met. They don’t know each other. I won’t allow it.” The glare he gets from Jongin makes his fingertips itch, makes the gloves feel entirely too tight. “We will not talk about this anymore. I hope you understand.” He zones out Zitao and Yixing, turning to them both. “I-I need to tell you guys something. In private. Please.”

  Jongin’s arms cross as he takes a step back. “No,” he tells him, firm, to the point. He remembers the voice. “Tell us here.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Sure you can,” Jongdae responds.

  “G-guys,” Minseok stutters, cheeks heating and his fingers freezing.  “This really isn’t the place for-” He’s trying to back away, but then Jongdae is grabbing his arm and Jongin reaches for his hand. A glove comes off, clutched in Jongin’s hands and out of reach. “G-give that back. Give me my glove back!”

  “Not until you talk to us.”

  “My glove,” Minseok insists, “I need that. Give it back.” He feels eyes on him, guests and trade partners watching the scene as it plays out. He addresses a guard. “The party is over,” and turns on his heels, making for the hallway closest to him.

  It’s Jongdae’s voice that stops him in his tracks, because Jongdae never yells. “Why? What happened? What did we ever do! Why can’t you talk to us! Do you hate us?” Minseok mutters under his breath as he continues, guards clearing out the people. “Why did you shut us out!?”

  Control it, or hurt the ones around you. Minseok feels the fear and anger bubbling under his skin, the hurt and the want, and he loses it. Before he can stop himself, a bolt ice flies out of his hands, pushing some of the guests away and leaving Jongin and Jongdae at a loss for words. All eyes are on him, gaping. “Magic!” “Sorcery!” The words echo in his ear. “Monster!” He runs.

  A crowd is gathered in front of the gates and he tries to push past, but he falls. “Stop him!” Chanyeol yells, pointing at him. “He is a monster, not our king!”

  “Please,” Minseok begs, pushing himself up, offering his hands up in surrender, but only more ice comes out, freezing the fountain in front of him, the water twisting down and almost hitting a child. “I didn’t mean to. Just let me be!” The crowd separates as he runs, hearing Chanyeol slipping on ice as he runs, runs, runs.

  Jongin and Jongdae follow him, right on his heels. Jongin had always been faster than him, but he has a head start, and bolts for the lake. But he’s stuck.

  In a fit of bravery, he takes a step on the lake. It freezes under his foot. With a look over his shoulder, he sees Jongin and Jongdae, so very close now, just a few more seconds.

  He runs across it, not sparing a look back because he knows, he knows the look that will be in Jongdae’s eyes, the way his lip will tremble, and he’s definitely not immune to it. He can still remember that look from when they were younger and their parents wouldn’t let him have anymore cake. God, it hurts.

  He makes it across the lake and continues, running up the hill. He has a cramp in his side, but there’s no time to stop. There’s not where to go, but he keeps going. Where, he doesn’t know. There’s no way for them to follow him, though. The lake will break if someone else steps on it. He hopes.

  Jongdae and Jongin’s cries fade into the distance until all he hears is the wind blowing and the trees rustling. There’s a wolfs howl, but it’s far enough away for him to not be scared by it.

  Minseok slows down once he’s far enough away. His little town isn’t visible anymore, and he deems it safe.

  He’s never been up here before. It’s different. Quiet. There’s no one around knocking on his doors or asking if he needs anything. No maids trying to get in to help him dress. No guards reporting to him about the newest lock up in their small jail. There’s nothing.

  Relief floods through him surprisingly fast. He expected heartache, but all he feels is… good.

  He twirls in a circle, taking in the mountains of snow, the white covering literally everything. And this is it, this is home. There’s no other word for it. It’s his home now.

  “I’m free,” he sighs in relief, making his way up the mountain. “I-I don’t have to hide anymore. I’m free!” With a wave of his hand, he makes a swirl of snow around him, watching it fall around him. He sweeps snow out of his way, creating a path for him to walk easier. An icicles form in his hand and he highlights his new walkway with them, leading up the mountain. “This is amazing. God, it’s so good to let go,” another sweep and their old snowman appears, smiling.

  Minseok keeps going until he reaches a cliff. He falters, pausing, until an idea forms in his head.

  Ice shoots out his palms, paving an old looking bridge across the two pieces of land at least 20 meet across. He deems it stable, and begins walking. When it doesn’t even creak, he runs across it, using his hands to make it more eloquent.

  It’s overwhelming in a good way.

  At the very top of the mountain, he stops, falling onto his back in a fit of laughter. He hasn’t felt this happy in years. Not since he almost killed Jongin, not since their parents died, not since. He doesn’t think ever. There is no way he could have every experienced this much happiness without this much freedom.

  Even when he could use his powers at home, he still had to restrict it. The people of their kingdom couldn’t know, the maids and guards couldn’t know. It was a family secret. He was restricted to one room for his snow, large but not at all like this. No trees, no wind, not freedom. It was all restricted, and now he knows why.

  Because he can do this.

  The ground rumbles under his feet and lifts, an ice floor spreading underneath him. It goes higher, higher, until there’s no way he can reach the ground without a bridge. So he makes one, and there’s a roof over his head suddenly, a chandelier hanging from it. A double staircase leading up three stories, a fountain of ice, several different room. It’s everything. It’s everything he can do.

  “Wow,” he breathes.

  “Wow,” a voice echoes, and he startles, jumping. “Very nice work here. Love what you’ve done with the place.”