Tenth Crown

Hyukjae did not win the duel against Boa. Of course he didn’t. It was nothing to be truly surprised about, really. Even if he mustered all the good will in the world, Hyukjae isn’t quite sure that it would have made much of a difference anyway.

His defeat tastes a bit like dull indifference, but also a bit like disappointment. A tiny little part of Hyukjae had still hoped that he could have won the battle somehow; the rest, on the other hand, had already expected the actual outcome. It was obviously nothing to write home about.

Resignedly, Hyukjae makes sure not to lean too heavily onto his wrong side as he sits back into his seat. He peers out through the narrow window of the moving carriage, sighing quietly. His thoughts start to wander freely, lost somewhere between everything that has happened earlier today and Donghae.

Hyukjae’s stomach makes a wild flip at the mention of his Sweetheart-Boyfriend-something. Warmth curls tightly in his chest, like the slow flames of a peaceful fire, and it makes him ache a little. His feelings seem to be caught in a turmoil of uncertainty and strong longing for Donghae. It’s as if they are all edging towards something that can still be qualified as affection, but is quickly becoming so much more to be just that. It’s probably hidden in-between, Hyukjae muses quietly; but in-between affection and what else? He doesn’t know, frankly.

Or, perhaps he just refuses to.

It’s already dark outside. The sun is setting far behind a wall of high trees that spreads across the horizon, and beyond the tops of a few buildings in the city. Hyukjae spots a couple of birds flying around the sky, wild flock cutting through the shades of orange-yellow warmth casted by disappearing sunlight. A call of his name blends in with the high-pitched sounds of their faint twitters.

As the carriage rolls over a particularly sharp bump of the road, pain shoots across Hyukjae’s wound. He turns around when he’s called again, wincing, and blinks at his younger brother.

“I—what?” Hyukjae mumbles distractedly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Your mind was elsewhere,” Kyuhyun advises with a knowing nod.

Kangin’s mildly concerned glance confirms his brother’s affirmation. “We’re almost at the castle,” he declares gruffly. “Be careful not to hurt yourself even more when you step down.”

Humming, Hyukjae nods absentmindedly at his private tutor. He glances out the window once again and sighs.

Béllyor is far away enough that Hyukjae could hide the sight of the bustling city with one hand if he tried. He can still lights flickering faintly from the night market, however, and he perks up in mild interest. It’s a rather pretty scenery, and he spends a few minutes wondering whether Donghae would think the same. He wonders whether Donghae would like to go there with him someday—he wonders if he would like to spend some more time with him, outside the too-formal context of the Courting. He wonders if Donghae is thinking of him, too.

The thought is a little—maybe a lot—quite definitely—terrifying.

Because, in spite of whatever that might happen in the future, Hyukjae is now ready to do anything for Donghae. It’s exciting, he realizes—and also a bit scary. He has never felt anything similar to this before—just faint bouts of affection that faded away with time and the discovery of a new interest.

But Donghae—Donghae is different. Because he’s his Sweetheart, and his Boyfriend, and he’s going to be so much more.

Hyukjae sighs then, a small, secret grin tugging at the corners of his lips. When Kyuhyun asks him what he’s thinking about, he doesn’t reply.

*

Seated in a luxurious armchair, Donghae looks around the wide drawing-room of his apartments, and then glances at the open windows. It’s quiet and dark, just like loneliness. Nighttime has started to feel chillier in the Kingdom of Solemnée; the Crown Prince therefore isn’t too surprised when he feels a sharp shudder race down his spine. And yet, he has to wonder whether it is only out of discomfort.

Donghae gets up and goes to close the windows hastily, grimacing, then gazes absently at the warm glow of the handsome fire that is crackling happily in the hearth. Reaching a trembling hand out towards the reassuring heat, he sighs under his breath and frowns grimly.

Donghae cannot sleep; he feels too awake and restless to settle down. Whenever he dares to close his eyes, even for a brief moment, memories of Hyukjae’s horrible wound assault his fragile mind. Fear and concern