Prologue
Moonlight
PROLOGUE
It started when the Crown Prince of the kingdom next door returned home with a princess.
Chanyeol didn’t think the princess was anything particularly special. She was kind of skinny, and a little bit awkward, honestly. But she beamed happily at the crowd when the neighboring King recounted the tale of how his son had rescued her from her evil stepmother’s curse and announced their marriage, and his mother had prodded him and said, “You should find a princess like that.”
Chanyeol found the very idea uninteresting, and shrugged off his mother’s words. But over the next year, more stories reached their royal court, about dashing young knights and the children of kings, all going off on adventures and returning with riches, magical treasures, beautiful princesses, or all three. After the third story started going around the castle’s gossip circle, Chanyeol started to catch snippets of conversation as he passed, about him.
Do you think our Prince will ever go on a quest?
He’s kind of clumsy. He’d probably get himself killed.
I heard some of the other kingdoms call him ‘the Stay-At-Home Prince’.
It’s embarrassing, honestly.
Chanyeol ignored them, because what did they know? He was busy learning how to run a kingdom. He had no time for wild quests or rescuing princesses.
But then, Yura disappeared.
It was the talk of the town for weeks - the Princess Royal was gone without a trace. Some said she ran away, some said she was kidnapped, some said that she hadn’t left at all but had been placed under an evil curse, and was asleep in the highest tower, or living as a mouse under the castle foundations.
The public called for Chanyeol to go after her.
Chanyeol was busy trying to keep his mother from worrying herself right out a window.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he even had any idea where to begin. There were no clues. No trail. Nothing to indicate where she had gone, or why. His older sister was just gone and he was helpless to do anything except try to reassure his parents and take over running the country, because with Yura gone, his mother nearly catatonic with grief, and his father prone to wandering the halls in a daze, there was no one else.
Then, six weeks later, she was back. Rode into the city square looking artfully disheveled on the back of an unknown knight’s white steed, safe and sound. Overjoyed, not only did their father give his blessing when the knight humbly asked for her hand in marriage, but he offered them half the kingdom as well.
Chanyeol’s kingdom.
Half gone, just like that.
And then, of course, the inevitable comparisons started, and it seemed like everyone - from the king’s advisors down to the scullery maids - thought Chanyeol’s new brother-in-law was just what this kingdom needs.
As if Chanyeol hadn’t completely run the kingdom, by himself, for the past six weeks while his entire family was out of commission, and done it so smoothly that barely anyone missed their involvement.
As if the fact that Chanyeol was born to be king, raised to be king, trained in politics and economics and how to balance the needs of the many with the perceptions of the individual, didn’t matter at all.
As if the ability to swing a sword at an ogre translated into the ability to lead a nation.
It wasn’t until Chanyeol overheard his own mother echoing the sentiments, though, that Chanyeol snapped.
“I’m leaving,” he announced over dinner. “Everyone in this damn country wants me to go on an adventure, so I’m going. I’ll try to be back before the wedding.” I’ll try to have a heroic tale and a princess on my arm, he thought but did not say. Not for me, but for everyone else.
Reactions ranged from skeptical to excited. The only one who seemed genuinely concerned was Yura, which Chanyeol thought was telling, considering she was the only one who had lived the kind of adventure he was talking about. “It’s not all glory and excitement, out there,” she said, as if Chanyeol wasn’t fully aware of that. “Be careful, little brother.”
He hugged her hard and assured her he’d be fine. She told him to start by heading west, away from the kingdoms and towards the forests. And then Chanyeol was bundled into his shiniest armor and handed his most impressive sword and sent on his way to the cheers of his people.
The helmet came off the moment he was outside the castle walls. The gauntlets and sabatons came off soon after he passed outside the borders. By the time he reached the edge of the forest, he was sweaty and annoyed, and when he stopped to water his horse, removed about half of the armor, packing all the small bits into his saddlebags and leaving himself in just his cuirass and tassets. It wasn’t as if he was expecting to go into battle right this moment, anyway.
He’d been riding for hours already, and his body was not used to it. Tired, and suspecting his horse felt the same, Chanyeol ate a bit of a lunch and then took a seat under a tree, intending to rest for half an hour at most.
But the day was nice, and the sun was warm, and he was more exhausted than he realized. Within minutes, Chanyeol was asleep.
It started when the Crown Prince of the kingdom next door returned home with a princess.
Chanyeol didn’t think the princess was anything particularly special. She was kind of skinny, and a little bit awkward, honestly. But she beamed happily at the crowd when the neighboring King recounted the tale of how his son had rescued her from her evil stepmother’s curse and announced their marriage, and his mother had prodded him and said, “You should find a princess like that.”
Chanyeol found the very idea uninteresting, and shrugged off his mother’s words. But over the next year, more stories reached their royal court, about dashing young knights and the children of kings, all going off on adventures and returning with riches, magical treasures, beautiful princesses, or all three. After the third story started going around the castle’s gossip circle, Chanyeol started to catch snippets of conversation as he passed, about him.
Do you think our Prince will ever go on a quest?
He’s kind of clumsy. He’d probably get himself killed.
I heard some of the other kingdoms call him ‘the Stay-At-Home Prince’.
It’s embarrassing, honestly.
Chanyeol ignored them, because what did they know? He was busy learning how to run a kingdom. He had no time for wild quests or rescuing princesses.
But then, Yura disappeared.
It was the talk of the town for weeks - the Princess Royal was gone without a trace. Some said she ran away, some said she was kidnapped, some said that she hadn’t left at all but had been placed under an evil curse, and was asleep in the highest tower, or living as a mouse under the castle foundations.
The public called for Chanyeol to go after her.
Chanyeol was busy trying to keep his mother from worrying herself right out a window.
Besides, it wasn’t as if he even had any idea where to begin. There were no clues. No trail. Nothing to indicate where she had gone, or why. His older sister was just gone and he was helpless to do anything except try to reassure his parents and take over running the country, because with Yura gone, his mother nearly catatonic with grief, and his father prone to wandering the halls in a daze, there was no one else.
Then, six weeks later, she was back. Rode into the city square looking artfully disheveled on the back of an unknown knight’s white steed, safe and sound. Overjoyed, not only did their father give his blessing when the knight humbly asked for her hand in marriage, but he offered them half the kingdom as well.
Chanyeol’s kingdom.
Half gone, just like that.
And then, of course, the inevitable comparisons started, and it seemed like everyone - from the king’s advisors down to the scullery maids - thought Chanyeol’s new brother-in-law was just what this kingdom needs.
As if Chanyeol hadn’t completely run the kingdom, by himself, for the past six weeks while his entire family was out of commission, and done it so smoothly that barely anyone missed their involvement.
As if the fact that Chanyeol was born to be king, raised to be king, trained in politics and economics and how to balance the needs of the many with the perceptions of the individual, didn’t matter at all.
As if the ability to swing a sword at an ogre translated into the ability to lead a nation.
It wasn’t until Chanyeol overheard his own mother echoing the sentiments, though, that Chanyeol snapped.
“I’m leaving,” he announced over dinner. “Everyone in this damn country wants me to go on an adventure, so I’m going. I’ll try to be back before the wedding.” I’ll try to have a heroic tale and a princess on my arm, he thought but did not say. Not for me, but for everyone else.
Reactions ranged from skeptical to excited. The only one who seemed genuinely concerned was Yura, which Chanyeol thought was telling, considering she was the only one who had lived the kind of adventure he was talking about. “It’s not all glory and excitement, out there,” she said, as if Chanyeol wasn’t fully aware of that. “Be careful, little brother.”
He hugged her hard and assured her he’d be fine. She told him to start by heading west, away from the kingdoms and towards the forests. And then Chanyeol was bundled into his shiniest armor and handed his most impressive sword and sent on his way to the cheers of his people.
The helmet came off the moment he was outside the castle walls. The gauntlets and sabatons came off soon after he passed outside the borders. By the time he reached the edge of the forest, he was sweaty and annoyed, and when he stopped to water his horse, removed about half of the armor, packing all the small bits into his saddlebags and leaving himself in just his cuirass and tassets. It wasn’t as if he was expecting to go into battle right this moment, anyway.
He’d been riding for hours already, and his body was not used to it. Tired, and suspecting his horse felt the same, Chanyeol ate a bit of a lunch and then took a seat under a tree, intending to rest for half an hour at most.
But the day was nice, and the sun was warm, and he was more exhausted than he realized. Within minutes, Chanyeol was asleep.
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