Third Crown

Dodo: beddy-byes Ouste!: off with you! Espèce de sale fourmi tueuse et horripilante!: you little killing and horrifying ant! Tiens: here (in this context) Oh mon Dieu: oh my God! Putain de merde: !

The sun is not even up yet when someone abruptly starts shaking Hyukjae awake in his slumber, prompting him to grunt in sleepy annoyance. He grumbles under his breath and curtly rolls around in his four-poster bed, facing away from whoever is cruel enough to try and disturb him in the middle of a perfectly fine night – it had started with a very troubling nightmare of himself wedding a complete stranger, until things finally smoothed out into a dreamless sleep that had no sound or color at all. The latter has been much more enjoyable so far, he has to admit.

Dodo, he mumbles incoherently, getting ready to slip back into slumber once again.

It appears like his assailant is someone quite determined in their ruthless task, however, as the damned shaking doesn’t stop and actually intensifies instead. He groans and whines and kicks around on his mattress – he thinks he managed to hit someone in his tantrum, though he can’t be sure of anything yet –, but it seems to be no use whatsoever.

 

“Ouste! Espèce de sale fourmi tueuse et horripilante!” he snarls into his pillow and blindly tries to swat them away, tugging his warm covers higher around him. “Get away from my bed, you vile creatures!”

 

A long minute goes by, upon which he takes the time to enjoy what he thinks is his sweet victory, until a rough hand suddenly swats the back of his unsuspecting head. He cries out at the sharp pain and promptly jolts awake, spinning around on his bed to glower at his assaulter.

 

“…Hyung?” he blinks bemusedly when he finds his tutor fiercely glaring down at him; the side of his jaw has started to redden because of what seems to have been one of his best punches, and he can’t help but feel a little proud. “Kangin hyung? What are you doing here?”

 

Sniffing in clear discontentment, the older man straightens up and tries to ignore the pain as dignifiedly as he can. “It is dawn in two hours,” he declares solemnly. “Go and prepare yourself, Hyukjae; the First Ceremony of the Courting will begin shortly.”

 

He then spins around on his heels, and stomps out of his bedrooms in a whirlwind of withering looks and long robes. Hyukjae watches him slam the doors close behind him with a slight wince, feeling a little confused – until it finally dawns on him.

 

The Crown Prince. The birthday celebration at the Royal Palace and the pretty ballroom. The courtiers and their meddlesome stares when he had – when he accidentally proposed to the Crown Prince.

 

“Putain de merde,” he curses with a long groan meanwhile he lets himself flop back down onto his mattress. – so that really wasn’t a nightmare, after all.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

The First Ceremony of the proper Courting is, quite honestly, almost as beautiful and magnificent as the Crown Prince’s birthday celebration had been a couple of weeks ago.

The most talented musicians and renowned head chefs of the kingdom have been urged to the château for the occasion; there were violinists and pianists and singers everywhere, while table tops layered with trays of the most delicious food and drinks have been fitted on both sides of the main staircase leading to the principal doors, countless of delicacies capable of making anyone’s mouth water. Beautiful flower arrangements made of deep blue and red roses, reminding of the Crown Prince’s and of his own Heart’s gemstone colors, have also been delicately placed all around the gardens of the property.

All the members of his House, from the closest to the farthest people of the Family tree, seem to have been invited to celebrate such a fantastic event – surely a courtesy from Kangin and the castle crew.

His Grace Hyukjae, First Heir of the très-haute et très-puissante, Most High, Potent, and Noble House of Lee’s, named Eunhyuk by the Gods, has proposed to His Royal Highness the Crown Prince Donghae, Second Son of the Most Godly and Royal House of Lee’s, from the Kingdom of Solemnée, named Aiden by the Gods! Such an honor to the House!

And Hyukjae – Hyukjae has never wanted to bury himself in embarrassment as much as on that dreadful day.

Bowing his head to a distant uncle when he walks past him with his parents, the young man lets out a long sigh and wills himself hard not to flop down onto the nearest armchair he can possibly find. The sun has been up only for a couple of hours so far, and a desperate need to go and finish his short night is stubbornly prodding at his weary mind. He warily looks around him, looking for a prey to his awful mood, and then decides to go and bother his tutor as soon as he finds him standing by a large pond.

 

“What time is it?” he asks him with a hint of whining in his voice.

 

Kangin glances at the giant hourglass that has been put atop the staircase, and then says, “It’s the Hour of Eagerness and Recklessness – the hour upon which the Crown Prince’s attendance, if he does show up, would mean he is eager of your wedding him, but that everything it might ensue has not been carefully considered yet.”

 

Hyukjae’s left eyebrow twitches in slight exasperation – if not a deep, deep one – before he painfully pinches the bridge of his nose. “That’s very good and all,” he grumbles tightly. “But what I meant is, when the hell do I get to eat?”

 

It only takes a fraction of second until a sheaf of old papers abruptly strikes the back of his head once again, prompting him to cry out in indignation.

 

“You’re so abusive!” he accuses, pointing an affronted finger at him. “It’s no wonder you’ve been single your whole life!”

 

His tutor stiffens worryingly, eyes turning nearly murderous as they menacingly glare down at him. “You little –!”

 

Hyukjae doesn’t think about it twice and immediately runs for his life.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Light knocks are heard and quietly resonate throughout the Crown Prince’s bedrooms, before high blue doors open slightly when he hums his consent. Tearing his gaze away from the rise of a blinding, warm sun – it is with no doubt the most beautiful day of this month, he thinks in childish excitation –, the young man tilts his head around and nods to his tutor while he steps inside.

 

“Good morning to you, Leeteuk hyung,” he cheerfully greets him from where he is standing by the large windows as the older man lowly bows before him. “May the sun and spirits of this magnificent day behold you as