Fifth Crown

Dodo: beddy-byes Je veux dodo: I want to sleep (in a very cute, baby-ish way) Vieillard: old man Sûrement parce que tu vas te couvrir de ridicule: Surely because you're going to make a fool of yourself Je suis blanc comme neige: I am pure as the driven snow Fais chier!: What a pain in the !

It’s nearly nighttime in the Kingdom of Solemnée when Hyukjae finally gets to slump down onto the nearest armchair he can find, soon followed by his younger brother. Exhausted, he leans back into the comfortable seat and releases a long, weary sigh.

Dodo, he groans sleepily, muscles sore and eyelids heavy. Je veux dodo…                                   

 

It has already been a good couple of hours since the Crown Prince – Donghae, he corrects himself with an amused grin – has left the castle, leaving a thick trail of excitement and confusion behind him.

He bemusedly remembers the way countless guests immediately gathered around him the moment his Sweetheart – oh, God – had left, assaulting him with questions and words of congratulation he didn’t understand. And still doesn’t, obviously, but he likes to think it is only a matter of time before he starts getting it. Each little mention of ‘beautiful romance’ and ‘aspiring love’ he heard in their mouth had made him startle in surprise, however, as though he still couldn’t fully figure out what they were all on about.

Even his parents seemed delighted of the First Ceremony’s outcome, and a glint of pride still shines within their eyes when he looks closely enough. Indeed, despite a dozen customs that go against public displays of affection – if he is to sum up the whole chapter he still refuses to open –, his mother didn’t hesitate to pull him into a tight hug as soon as she had gotten the chance, while his father strongly patted his shoulder.

It still hurts a little when he moves it the wrong way.

Everyone present smiled and laughed and complimented him so much Hyukjae nearly blushed, if it wasn’t for the exhaustion that had quickly washed over him a short moment later. With the swift help of his private tutor and a last mumble of thanks, he rapidly fled in the peaceful haven of the château and hid in the main drawing-rooms.

Staring at the yellow-orange flames happily flickering in the fireplace, the man runs a heavy hand through his hair and thinks back on the pretty smiles Donghae granted him sometimes. It is odd and quite endearing, he thinks a little contemplatively, how much the latter is like an open book he can decipher all the emotions of with only a single look, but also a mysterious world of wonders all on his own. He is fascinating and intriguing, yet sweetly dangerous in his quiet unpredictability.

Or, at least, it is how Hyukjae sees him.

What do I know, anyways? he snorts to himself. I don’t know him that well yet, do I?

 

“I’m headed to bed,” he says to his brother a moment later, after he has stopped listing the very few details he knows about his Sweetheart. “Are you?”

 

Kyuhyun glances up at him, then shrugs a little. “I guess I am,” he nods, hiding a small yawn behind his hand. “Aren’t you going to wait for Kangin hyung, though? He said he wanted to talk about the First Ceremony.”

 

Standing up, the other lets out a small sniff of contempt. “He can wait,” he grumbles under his breath. “One night of waiting won’t kill him, the old man.”

 

Hyukjae doesn’t wait for his answer and walks out of the drawing-rooms, prudently avoiding the parts of the castle he knows his private tutor might be wandering in as he heads to his bedrooms. A huge part of him still wonders about the six seconds the Crown Prince took to touch his Heart, but the moment his back hits the mattress, all thoughts fly out the windows and let place to a deep, blue-colored slumber.

He dreams of sparkly tanzanite.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

Donghae softly closes the doors behind him as he walks out of his bedrooms, pace prudent and as soundless as it is possible. Messy locks of hair falling across his forehead, he clutches on his candlestick with trembling fingers and finally makes his way through the empty corridors of the Royal Palace. It’s dark and cold and eerie everywhere he dares looking, the soft sounds of his footsteps echoing scarily around him, while shapeless shadows on the walls prompt uncomfortable shudders to run down his spine.

And he absolutely hates it.

A tight knot of anxiety stuck in the bottom of his throat, he hastily tightens his robes around him and speeds up across the third floor, until he finally reaches a narrow staircase. He quickly climbs it down, careful not to trip on an uneven stair, and then releases a long breath of relief upon catching a glow of light. It slips out from between the open doors of the kitchens, which are slightly ajar, and brightens up the dark night just the way he needs it.

 

“Hello?” he calls softly the moment he steps in.

 

It’s warm and homey inside, a drastic difference from the cold loneliness of his bedrooms, and prompts the Crown Prince to relax almost immediately. Undertones of spices and chocolate linger in the air, teasing his nostrils with the clear goal of appealing him. He slightly lowers his candlestick and glances around the mildly busy rooms, then gives a shy little smile to the few butlers and maids present.

 

“Your Royal Highness!” one of them gasps in surprise upon seeing him standing by the doorframe.

The butler scrambles up on his feet and lowly bows down before him, instantly followed by his colleagues. “May yours stars and all the others of the endless sky brighten up your path for always and again, and through this beautiful night that is yours, meanwhile us mere people thank you for the gift of your sacred presence.”

 

“Yes, hello,” Donghae repeats with another grin as he puts the candlestick down. “I know it’s very late – or early, I suppose, but…” He pauses, frowning in embarrassment as he straightens up awkwardly.

 

One of the older maids – Yeongja, he remembers – gently ushers him to an armchair, inviting him to sit down. “Could it be another of those… bad dreams, Your Royal Highness?” she asks softly.

 

Donghae winces a little but nods, discomfort gripping his chest hard even though he knows that the whole palace is already aware of his sleeping troubles. Settled on the very edge of his seat, he fidgets uncomfortably and studiously stares at his lap.

Cold sweat still runs down his back whenever he remembers the nightmare he has just woken up from, horrible shivers crawling upon his skin like a starving rat. The thought pulls another weak breath out of him, pained and shaky, meanwhile he unconsciously starts fiddling with the tanzanite gemstone he has tucked in the pockets of his robes.

 

“Would you like us to wake Sir Leeteuk, Your Royal Highness?” Yeongja asks when she comes back to him, holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate on a tray. She puts it down on a nearby table and carefully hands him the drink, grinning