If there was a god out there, he must be a child forsaken by god.

Just like how Baekjo was a land forsaken by their original kingdom, Monguk, with the people thrown into an undeserved oppression under Seojeol for the past twenty-five years.

Baekjo and her people didn’t have a choice in it; they were simply a border city being played in the scheming hands of the greater kingdoms. If the King of Monguk had chosen to keep to the kingdom’s role of a vassal state, there would have been no attempts of rebellion, no early discovered and overthrown plans, no one-sided conquering of Baekjo, no oppression of its people as warning and deterrence.

Just like Sungmin didn’t have a choice being born as a son, a second son, six years into the seizing of Baekjo. The one-son-per-couple regulation gave his parents no choice but to raise him as a daughter, because they couldn’t bear sending their precious child to the authorities to be put into slavery one form or another. The strict management of the number of fit men limited the strength of any possible rebel army, diminishing the hopes of freedom as the opposition dragged long beyond years.

But the people of Baekjo prided themselves on perseverance and optimism. The flames of hope may be dampened by the gradual yet unrelenting river of time, but it would never truly be extinguished. It burned strong within the hearts of Baekjos, of those who have lost sons and daughters, friends and relatives, partners in life.

But how, how exactly could Sungmin live up to the pride of a Baekjo?

Two months since his shackles had been officially transferred to the Taeryeo Royal Palace, he was slowly settling in, almost finding a way to deal with the constant chastisement and punishment, in between the humiliation, from the Seojeol maids and servants. Despite knowing that he would meet his first love sooner or later, he had forced the fearful idea behind the pain and fatigue, until it had all risen rapidly upon meeting those eyes, exploding out of him through tears.

He had cried, though Kyuhyun had been the last man he wanted to allow to see his tears. But everything had struck him so hard – the sweet memories of the past, the heart-searing pain of being lied to, abandoned, betrayed by the man, the tears of his family, the never-ending fears of his life in the palace.

Hope was too difficult to grab on to, the helplessness and loneliness of his situation making him want to laugh at himself for feeling so pathetic, for being so pathetic. His broken heart allowed the wispy remaining threads of hope to slip away from between his fingers, leaving bitterness and hatred filling his tensed body as the light retreated from his eyes again.

This was his fate.

He was meant to pass this life working hard and alone; he should have never given his heart away. Even though his family had risked everything including their lives to spare him the life of slavery, he had still ended up in this palace, the rough metal cuffs securing his hands up in the air deepening the bruises on his wrists. He wasn’t meant to be happy, and now that he had walked till this step of a path that could never be retraced, the only thing he wished for was the safety of his family members. If he couldn’t hide that he was a male, he prayed the Taeryeo Inner Court Disciplinary Department would not be bothered enough to trace his background back to his family in Baekjo.

“Quickly let the down and set her back to work,” Heein’s shrill voice commanded another servant who freed the chains from the rings on his cuffs, the returning rush of blood into his hands and fingers causing a tingly pain to spread through.

Without letting any expression slip, Sungmin bent over to roll down his pants, ignoring the persistent throbbing and the abrupt stings of the coarse cloth rubbing against where the skin of his calves had broken. Fortunately or not, he had a rather high pain tolerance, which meant his in-charges quickly got bored after his lack of reaction from the punishments, though it may have made them punish him more often without as much fear from crippling him compared to others.

He bowed, ready to get back to the mountain pile of clothes awaiting him, but the cane slightly stained with his blood slid under his chin, pushing his head up. Heein glared at him. “If a word of your punishment from today gets out of these four walls,” the servant paused, slowly enunciating each following word, “You. Are. Dead. Understand?”

“Yes, Heein-nim.” Sungmin took a step back, bowed, and followed the other awaiting servant out of their room quarters.

He wasn’t an Inner Court lady who would tell tales to the King for any little grievance he had suffered. And he didn’t have a king—or a prince to go to anyway; why did Kyuhyun even bother to threaten Heein?

Guilt from abandoning and hurting him? Pity for Sungmin to have ended up as a slave?

He had thought he could bury all his emotions, to freeze his heart to everything and only live to keep his secret well and his family safe, but god did he hate Kyuhyun for everything.

If it weren’t for that lying, selfish prince who never mentioned that he was a prince albeit an exiled one at that time, if it weren’t for those sweet little nothings that caught him a small little fish out of the numerous in the big pond, if it weren’t for that heartless abandonment despite the claims of love in that letter under the tree, he would still have been with his family, heart whole and complete.

He hated Kyuhyun so bitterly. And he wanted nothing ever to do with that man again.

But—Sungmin clutched his throbbing chest suddenly, forcing back the welling tears—Why does here still love and bleed for you so?

~~

It was a month later when he saw Kyuhyun again.

“Every morning, you’ll have to heat the water and fill this basin for His Highness’ use when he rises from bed,” Ryeowook pointed to the golden tub sitting in the corner. “You can heat the water in the back kitchen, the one I brought you to just now. As for breakfast, the others assigned to the kitchen will prepare, but His Highness has indicated his wish for you to serve…” The head servant turned to him, pausing, “Alone.”

“So I just have to take the prepared dishes into His Highness’ room?” Sungmin tried his best to remain objective, meticulously noting down the preferences of his new master in the palace. “Does His Highness take breakfast in the bedroom?”

Ryeowook observed him with assessing eyes, just like how he had been doing since he collected Sungmin from the Inner Court Servants Department. “Yes, he does. After preparing the water, you will await for His Highness to wake in the outer bedroom. When he calls for you, you will enter to assist him in cleaning and dressing, and then ask for permission to serve breakfast.”

“Do I have to prepare—”

The quickened footsteps leading to the storeroom they were in halted his question. The pair turned instinctively to the door that was thrown open, the prince of discussion striding in anxiously. The nervousness on his face was wiped off in an instant, the calm and neutral expression returning as the prince cleared his throat awkwardly.

Ryeowook bowed, and Sungmin followed in his bow that had been corrected relentlessly in his morning crash course. After being transferred or rather, promoted from an odd chores slave to a personal attending servant, he was required to be educated in proper court conduct and behaviors. As Kyuhyun had insisted for his immediate transfer, the training was to be continued in the prince’s quarters here under other lady servants.

“You’re here.”

Sungmin heard the prince say, but he didn’t lift his head. He wasn’t supposed to have any eye contact with the royal members as a slave, but after the promotion, he was meant to sneak glances and look at his master appropriately to gauge any needs or demands. However, he had not a single wish to look at Kyuhyun. It hurt… ached to see that charming face that had broken his heart.

“Ryeowook.” One simple call of the name, and the servant excused himself to leave the room like the prince wanted.

The tension in the air rose with the exit of the head servant, the overbearing silence weighing down on both master and slave’s shoulders, stifling their breathing.

“Min.” A hand reached out hesitantly to his face, and Sungmin backed away immediately.

The arm froze awkwardly in the air. Fighting the urge to excuse himself and escape from the room, Sungmin closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Your Highness, I am to be your personal attending servant from today. My name is Seomi.”

“No.” Persisting this time, the hand extended to his cheek, two fingers lightly pushing his chin up. “You’re Min. My Min.”

Sungmin met the wavering gaze of the prince, the pain stabbing his chest so vivid his brows creased, and then, the hatred rushed in like a tsunami. Holding himself back from swatting the despised hand away, he glared into those deep brown irises. “If that is what Your Highness wishes to address me by,” Sungmin gritted his teeth, forcing down the anger. “I will be Min.”

And when the prince’s face contorted into an expression of hurt, Sungmin could no longer hold himself in place. He tore his face away from Kyuhyun’s fingers, snapping his head to the side. Even after ruining his life and causing him to land in slavery, the man before him wouldn’t stop torturing him. Would he only stop when he had completely destroyed all of this pitiful life?

The frowning face before him had almost succeeded so just this morning.

~~

He hardly slept a wink after he had received the news last night about his transfer. It didn’t make sense to the other Seojeol servants working in the same department, and he was sure it definitely would not make sense to Heein as well, but his in-charge did not return that night after leaving for another quarters in the afternoon. But this morning, when he finally knew the destination of the transfer, it all made sense to him.

Kyuhyun was the one behind it all.

Unknown to the fact that they were acquaintances, many of the other servants gossiped about how he had used trickery, black magic, his dirty body, his devious smiles, anything and everything to charm the prince. They said he had the prince wrapped around his little finger – Sungmin couldn’t help sneering at the irony of it.

He was the one that was once wrapped around Kyuhyun’s little finger willingly. And it seemed this unlucky fate had yet to meet its end – he was going to be stuck to Kyuhyun’s side again, like how an owner shortened the chain to the collar of his little puppy after allowing his pet a short breather.  

There was no use rebutting the others, just like there would be no point in trying to escape. For the sake of his family, there was no escape. Thus, Sungmin went with the flow, accepting the hasty training and massive corrections of basic court manners.

After three months, he had gotten rather used to the harsh words and ‘pedagogy’ of the court servants, so the training passed without much mental torment. The real trouble came ultimately when he learnt that there was to be a body examination before he could be promoted and successfully transferred to a royal quarters.

He had stood in the outer hall, heart racing as quickly as his mind as he envisioned the possible scenarios and contingency plans. The new servants were led inside the room individually by the examining female physician, and though he could hardly hear anything coming from the room, he was rather sure the servants were asked to strip completely for the physician to check and approve of their bodies. Ridiculous it may sound, but court ladies and serv