A/N: Thank you to xiaomitaozi as always for betaing. And for onemoredae for stepping in this time as well to offer another eye!!!

“It seems like just yesterday that I first came. But the seasons appear to pass more quickly in the north than they did back home. And now that I find myself facing the prospect of meeting the King for the first time on my own, I worry about how I should act and what I should say. I don’t wish to make a fool of myself.”

The words tumbled out of Kyungsoo’s mouth like the fruit that tumbled from the trees, shaken and torn from their wooden homes by Udo’s long arms.

Kyungsoo held out the basket in his hands without needing to be prompted, watching as a dozen small figs tumbled into it. When the last one had fallen in, Kyungsoo leaned over the basket, shaking it and watching the fruit pitch and roll along the bottom. There was barely enough to fill the bottom, but then again, they’d only just begun to start picking.

“Soo not happy?” The gentle giant asked, stooping down to Kyungsoo’s level. With one giant hand, Udo clumsily patted the top of Kyungsoo’s head to offer comfort. Kyungsoo felt a little as if he were being treated as a pet, but he let it happen, having become quickly accustomed to constant physical affection from Kai.

“Well, it’s not that I’m unhappy,” Kyungsoo clarified, “it’s just that I am aware that the King is not fond of me. I know Kyungri’s character inspires hatred, but we are nothing alike. I know not why the King refuses to see it.”

Kyungsoo ducked his head, pulling a fig from the basket and brushing it clean on his shirt. He bit into it. Of course, just as expected for the quickly changing seasons, the small fig had only just barely reached maturity - and yet beneath the sour tang, there was still a subtle sweetness to its flesh that was somehow satisfying.

“Soo is good. Soo is good friend of Udo,” Udo said in that gravelly, booming voice of his.

He reached in as well, the size of his fist making the basket look miniature in comparison. He plucked out a few figs, popping them in his mouth whole as if they were seedless berries.

“Of course you would say that,” muttered Kyungsoo, “because you have no reason to dislike me. The townsfolk, however, see me as nothing but a dark herald. Can you imagine? Me! Threatening! Of all people!”

Udo mumbled back at him, something low that wasn’t meant to be understood as anything other than a wordless sound of assent. He turned away, lumbering towards the next sparse gathering of trees. Kyungsoo followed behind, still holding the basket with one hand, using the other to pull up his robes to prevent them from getting stuck to the soft mud beneath his boots.

And as the orange of the early morning faded into the light greys of midday, the sudden shrill calls of a flock of birds drew both of their attentions. Kyungsoo stood up, turning his head to watch the ravens fill the air in a mass of creeping black formation, heading north in a clump of dark feathers and sharp beaks.

Danger! They seemed to call out to him, watching him with beady, blood red eyes as they fled far, far away. Danger! They continued to call, urging him at once to leave. Run away, run away!

But he spoke not the language of the birds, and did not heed the omen they had brought.

-

One of those nights, he had dreamed he was seated on a glittering throne, surrounded by thousands who bowed to him and presented him with a flood of gifts.

Diamonds, gold, treasures of lands he’d always longed to see.

And as he had reached out to take an offering from a face that seemed so familiar, he realized, with rising alarm, that his hands were already stained red with blood.

-

Though their languages shared the same ancestral roots, there were much more differences than similarities between the moorish people of the North and the ethnic peoples of the southern peninsula.

The climate of the northern Moors, for example, was much more temperate than the harsh dry heat of its southern cousin. Kyungsoo himself had grown accustomed to wearing long robes every day to protect his face and extremities from the stinging sand and the harsh rays of the sun - but here where neither sand nor bright sun made much of an appearance, the women wore bright and elaborate gowns while the men wore loose flowing tunics.

The arrival of the dinnish to the land had thrown even stranger wardrobe into the mix. The travelers with their tanned skin and shocking tattoos wore next to nothing at all. It wasn’t a rare sight for one of their women to very nearly bare their s for the world to see, and the furs the men wore over their lower half hardly covered anything at all. It had been a great cultural shock for all the noblemen and noblewomen who had traveled north with Kyungsoo and his sister.

He himself had experienced a period of discomfort. When they had just been acquainted, Kyungsoo knew not where to look whenever Kai pressed in close. His warm, honey gold skin was everywhere, sliding against Kyungsoo’s black robes in a way that made him uncomfortable in more than one way. Many sleepless nights were had as a direct consequence, ones spent squirming uncomfortably in his bed as he imagined Kai’s bare, sweaty chest heaving over him, veined, muscly arms bracketing Kyungsoo’s head.

Thankfully, that period had passed. And though he still thought Kai incredibly attractive, he no longer blinked at the other man’s nearly non-existent wardrobe. Of course, he could not bring himself to even think about attending a formal supper with the king dressed in scraps of fur (he hadn’t the same type of body to fill it out quite like Kai did), but he did think that he might win himself a favor by garbing himself in traditional northern moorish clothing.

Kyungsoo had availed himself at the nearest opportunity of royal tailor Baekhyun’s favor. He’d asked and had thusly received a fine set of tunic and breeches to wear to the dinner, spun in the finest of linens in the very colors of the royal family.

He’d needed help getting dressed, of course, feeling quite like a stuffed hen as he was pulled and buckled into something that was far more form fitting than he was used to; but when Baekhyun spun him around, letting him come face to face with a full length mirror, he thought he rightly looked the part of a lord. He could hardly recognize himself in the warm colors of the tunic, trimmed as it was with leather and golden thread. The only disadvantage was that he no longer had anything to pull down to cover his face and head. It left him feeling quite vulnerable and he stood there for a long moment, attempting to flatten down a stubborn lock of stray hair.

“I do feel a little silly,” he admitted in a strained whisper to Baekhyun. The tailor’s eyes only twinkled.

“Don’t give up just yet,” Baekhyun laughed, playfully jostling his shoulder, “you just wait until they lay their eyes on you. See what they have to say then. You may find yourself pleasantly surprised.”

“...I suppose,” Kyungsoo reluctantly agreed, after considering the tailor’s words for a moment.

And he’d felt fine about it after that - that was, until the day of reckoning had come, and the magnificent oak doors of the king’s private chambers finally opened, spilling him out into the king’s private wing and leaving him subject to a dozen curious stares. Now, surrounded by both strange and familiar faces, Kyungsoo felt quickly overwhelmed.

Servants were walking around, carrying trays full of wonderfully smelling food, but at the moment Kyungsoo had no appetite. He had the eye of the woman standing by the head of the table, dressed regally and holding herself with an elegant poise only royalty could have. She had turned around immediately when the doors had opened, eyes catching upon him and looking him up and down with a friendly smile. This could have been no other than the queen mother.

He bowed to her, muttering a soft but respectful greeting to both her and her husband, the old king, who lingered around by his wife’s side like a shadow. His eyes were much more sharp than hers were. Not knowing what else to say, he left it awkwardly at that, clearing his throat and looking away.

Steady yourself, Kyungsoo, he told himself, this is just the beginning, don’t run off now. He tried to take a deep breath to calm the stuttering beat of his heart. Nevertheless, the slightest wind would have still knocked him over. The heat from the torches was already making him sweat. Kyungsoo absently pinched at his arm, adjusting the rough edge of his cuff that was scraping uncomfortably along his wrist.

Thankfully, before he was left to his own for too long, his elbow was gently grasped. He looked over to see Lady Bita, looking effortlessly effervescent in a flowing blue dress. It took him aback. He was so used to seeing the noblewoman dressed in a man’s cloak and breeches that to see her dressed so charmingly feminine was a pleasant surprise. She was beautiful whether dressed as a woman or a man, but the shock of what a difference it made had Kyungsoo blinking rapidly.

“You look - well - lovely tonight,” he stuttered, for lack of anything better to say.

“As do you,” she laughed, “although I don’t believe I’m the only one who has noticed.”

She nudged him with her shoulder and flicked her gaze over to the corner. Kyungsoo followed it only to find Kai staring straight back at him with more fire in his eyes than was normally there. Kai’s eyes trailed up and down his body, and if Kyungsoo felt vulnerable before, now he felt practically .

His face was bright red by the time they’d reached Kai, who was standing by the window with a widely grinning Sehun. He tried not to stare at his lover, far too aware of how handsome the dinnish man looked in his barely-there fur and feathers. Instead, he nodded at Sehun, flinching only just a little when the prince reached out to slap him on the shoulder.

“Glad to see you’ve made it,” the youngest prince said with a crooked grin, “I was beginning to wonder whether you’d show up at all.”

“Yes, well, I had to find an excuse to slip out of my sister’s sight,” Kyungsoo muttered.

This, at least, was the truth. It had taken far longer than he’d hoped to leave, which was why he’d arrived a little later than he’d originally planned. Kyungri had been obnoxiously persistent with her questions, as though she had been suspicious of his intentions before he had even opened up his mouth to ask. In the end, he’d had to come up with a half lie, telling her he’d be meeting Kai. That had made her eyes light up with a dark sort of glee, and she’d sent him off with shooing motions, much like a brothel madame would one of her working girls.

In her eyes, Kyungsoo’s body was nothing more than a useful bargaining chip.

“And the king?” Kyungsoo asked, looking to change the subject. “Where is he?”

“Brother Yifan insisted on accompanying Tao to the gate to greet the Chieftainess,” Sehun snorted, as if it bothered and amused him, “as if Tao needs an . The gate is but a short walk away, and even if he did encounter trouble, Tao has much more battle prowess than Yifan has! What help could that fool offer without his fancy bow and arrow? I swear, he seeks any and every excuse to stay by his bride’s side.”

“I think it is quite charming, actually,” said Bita, to which Sehun rolled his eyes.

“Charming!” he scoffed, “obsessed is more like it. Attached at the hip! One moment away from Tao’s side and my brother begins to go mad, I’m telling you…”

They both laughed, as if to a joke that Kyungsoo didn’t quite understand. In a fit of madness Kyungsoo plucked a goblet of wine from a passing steward’s tray, nearly downing it entirely for courage while ducking his eyes to avoid the elderly king’s stinging gaze that he could still feel from across the room.

“I can already tell. They all hate me,” Kyungsoo groaned, hiding his head in the crook of Kai’s warm shoulder, “I fear I shan’t come out of this conversation in one piece.”

“Don’t worry,” Sehun reassured Kyungsoo, “you’ll do just fine. Rest easy knowing that you may depend on any of us to step in for you should my brother or my father say something. Focus on saying what you need to say, and we three shall see that the rest fall into place.”

Kyungsoo could feel Kai nodding in support. Kai’s chin, as it bobbed, was tickling the hairs on top of Kyungsoo’s head. Out of the corner of his eye, Kyungsoo could see that Bita was nodding as well. And though he was thoroughly out of his element, surrounded by his fiercest supporters Kyungsoo did feel reassured. Touched, even, by the way Sehun and Bita stared him straight in the eye as if to lend him strength and support.

A hand slipped around the small of his back and stole his attention. It trailed across his spine before reaching down to grip his sweaty palm. Kyungsoo watched helplessly as Kai took his hand, kissing it with a light, feather touch that had his skin prickling with goosebumps.

“You look beautiful tonight,” said Kai, with a soft breath and a tender look.

And Kyungsoo, who had only just begun to understand the depth of Kai’s intentions, was reduced to such a weakened state by mere words, his knees nearly wobbling and cheeks already a bright red as he looked away in embarrassment.

“Stop it,” he muttered, though he did not push the hand away nor stop Kai when the other leaned forward to nibble discretely at his ear.

And so it went, separate conversations flowing between two separate parties - one young, one old - until at last the doors swung open once again, this time revealing the ever stern looking face of the young king. He was followed closely behind by his consort, who was himself escorting an older woman whose crooked smile seemed somehow familiar.

That must be Kai’s mother, Kyungsoo thought, watching Kai pull away to greet the woman with an enthusiastic hug. Then Kai turned back, beckoning at Kyungsoo to come forward with his hand.

Well aware of how everyone watched him, he did just that, cautiously approaching with his eyes placed firmly on the ground in deference.

As was proper, he first greeted the King, bowing deeply before him and his consort (to a sneer from one and a friendly smile from another), then stepping in front of Kai’s mother. Before he could even open his mouth, his chin was being grasped, forcing him to glance up in surprise and look the Chieftainess straight in the eyes.

The color of her pupils were a swirling mess of grey and brown, much like Kai’s was, and once again, Kyungsoo was struck by how similar the two seemed, truly the picture of mother and child as the woman froze him on the spot with the same intense look. It was as if she were peering into his soul, sifting through everything that he was and was not in order to come to a judgment.

And when she did finally come to one, a wide smile split her weathered face. Her teeth were crooked but a dazzling white, and he almost felt hypnotized by them, eyes nearly crossing when the woman pulled him suddenly in for a hug. For such a small woman, her strength was no laughing matter. He yelped, feeling his bones creak as his body was squashed into the woman’s bony embrace.

She smelled like the warm smoke of the fires Kai often built for him, when they stayed out late in the night and the dinnish man feared Kyungsoo would grow too cold. She smelled like the tobacco Kai often smoked in his pipe, like the fresh grass and the dew in the morning that the two of them often walked through, hand in hand.

She smelled familiar and strange all at once, and for some strange, striking reason, thinking back on his own mother who had always turned a cold shoulder to him and his sister, it nearly brought Kyungsoo to tears.

“This ... your light?” the chieftainess asked Kai, though the sound muffled by the fur Kyungsoo’s face was surrounded by. Not quite fluent in his lover’s tongue, there were still words he could not understand, although he thought he was beginning to understand.

“Yes, my light,” he heard Kai respond, “his name ... Kyungsoo.”

At last, he could breathe. Released from her grip, he took in one gasping breath, wiping the sweat from his brow and dazedly looking around to see that only Kai and his mother remained beside him, the others having long since left to wander back towards the table in the center of the room. Food had begun to be served now that they had all arrived, and the wonderful aroma of the first course began to waft through the doors as the servants stepped through with plates and towels. This was no time to ponder food, however. Not when the weathered face of Kai’s mother was staring straight back at him, not allowing him an inch of space between the two of them.

“Look at him, so beautiful and yet so small. Poor thing. How can a little bird so thin take flight?”

She scrutinized him once more, eyes burning a trail of fire up and down the length of his body, opportunistic hands feeling up his sides in a way that had him trying to jump away.

“What a character this one has! Though you must remember to feed him better, Kai.”

He sputtered at the way the elderly woman acted without shame. His eyes widened when the woman pressed in even closer, taking a deep whiff of his nape.

“What is she…?” he asked Kai, gesturing down to Kai’s mother with a questioning look in his eyes. Kai only laughed, raising his eyebrows and reaching over to teasingly pinch at his lover’s cheek.

“Mother likes you,” was all that he said.

When she pulled back with that toothy grin back on her face, it was hard for even Kyungsoo’s anxious, over-calculating mind not see the overflowing fondness in her eyes. He smiled back, shy but quietly delighted by the Chieftainess’ affectionate response.

“Of course I do. He’ll make a fine one indeed!” she cackled once again, nearly shredding Kyungsoo’s eardrums. Of course, he had more than an inkling of what they were talking about. It was enough to make him bashful.

Grateful, he smiled brightly, trying to sweep into a low bow. She stopped him before he could bend fully, removing him from his position of deference and shooing him toward her son with a motherly wave and a shocking swat to the behind.

“Go! Go now. Eat food. Lots of it.”

Kai took one look at the frozen expression on his lover’s face and burst into laughter, wrapping a long arm around Kyungsoo’s neck and pulling him along. All the while, Kai was telling Kyungsoo all about his mother and his brothers, bending down to whisper all of his fondest childhood memories into Kyungsoo’s willing ear.

Rather than follow her son as he led the way to the table, the Chieftainess instead chose to trail behind. She had noticed something, you see, that didn’t quite sit right with her. She cupped her hand to her nose, inhaling the faint lingering trace of something in the air.

Just as her second eldest son had told her, the smell was unnatural.

The easy smile on the Chieftainess’ face slowly fell away, to be replaced by a small frown. She didn’t know what it was exactly, but there was something unnatural about that child.

He smelled of a sickness. Feverish and mad, buried metallic and deep into his blood and bones.

-

“Lady… Bita, is it? Your dress looks absolutely radiant tonight, my dear.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty! ‘Twas gifted to me by one of my great aunts.”

“Back home in Trivan?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“I did not know such a beautiful color existed! Though, I should not be surprised. The last time I traveled to your capital, I do recall all the ladies of the court wearing such stunning silk scarves. I even remember asking my mother’s tailor to have one made for me, so that I could be reminded of its beauty back at home.”

“Your Majesty has visited my homeland?”

“Only once as a child - and even then, I’m afraid I was sleeping through the heat for far too much of the day to have remembered much else about it…”

“Yes, ah, of course. It can get hot back at home.”

“Yes, quite…”

To say that dinner was an awkward affair wouldn’t have been much of an exaggeration.

Despite the presence of friendly faces at the table beside him, Kyungsoo got the distinct feeling that he was being watched. It made the wonderful food in front of him unappetizing and the act of eating gracefully almost impossible. More than once his sweaty palms and fingers fumbled with the fork and knife in his hands.

What conversation was had was stilted and awkward. It would start, usually following a question made by the queen mother or lady Bita, only to die shortly thereafter when it was clear no one else would pick it up.

The silence was almost too much, and all that could be heard for minutes on end was the clatter and scrape of utensils on dishware. Under the watchful and frigid gaze of two generations of kings, Kyungsoo pulled again at his collar.

The bell rang, signalling the next course.

Of course, Kyungsoo’s reaction was visceral.

Try as he might, Kyungsoo could not suppress his flinch at the noise. This, the only thing out of the ordinary to comment upon, immediately drew the queen mother’s attention.

“Are you quite alright?” she asked, leaning forward and maintaining eye contact even as the plate in front of her was pulled away by a passing servant.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Kyungsoo managed to croak, taking a sip from the cup of wine pushed toward him by an insistent Kai, “I do apologize. I... I have never liked that sound.”

The queen mother furrowed her eyebrows.

“What, the bells?” she asked, “What could be more pleasant of a sound? Does it not remind you of the church bells ringing midday?”

No, no it did not. While most others had only fond memories of birds flying from the steeples of white churches, Kyungsoo had only nightmares. Of burning flesh and charred bones.

“It reminds of my father,” said Kyungsoo, “they rang the bells in mourning as they carried his body down to the funeral pyres. Thirty-two times it rang - one for each year of his reign.”

Bita glanced his way. They were nearly the same age - perhaps she had heard of what had happened in her neighboring country. Or the madness that had come to pass afterwards.

The queen mother, to her credit, looked sympathetic. She dropped the topic immediately with a soft - “oh dear, I’m so sorry to hear” - although upon doing so she abandoned the conversation in yet another uncomfortable void.

For another five minutes it was like this, Kyungsoo carefully eating bits of morsels on the edges of his plate only when urged on by Kai. He ignored the growling of his stomach that urged him to eat more, for there was a bitterness in his mouth that always seemed to make food taste like ash.

“So, tell me,” King Yifan finally broke the silence, wiping his lips on the cloth in his lap, “other than regaling us with tales of your dark past, what is it that really brings you here tonight, lord Kyungsoo?”

“Yifan, this is supper, not an interrogation,” said Tao, the time he’d spent in the Moors never making any less strong that pleasant accent of his, “do not forget the promise you’ve made to our brothers that you would listen.”

A frosty looking King Yifan looked somewhat chastised. His eyes were fire and ice, however he was unable to say anything, lest he risked upsetting half of the occupants of the room, all of whom looked as if they were waiting on his response. Left without a choice, King Yifan pushed away his plate, folding his arms over his chest.

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” the King grumbled, “tell us what you have to say.”

Kyungsoo hesitated, slowly finding his resolve as he set down his own silverware.

“I hear the harvest festival is very nearly upon us,” Kyungsoo said, “and I’ve heard that the castle opens its grounds for it every year.”

“It does. What of it?” King Yifan said, with furrowed brows.

“Well, I - I was wondering,” Kyungsoo paused, “if I could be granted your permission for our people to - well - to sell our services during the festival.”

Yifan slammed his hand down on the table, pointing first to his husband and then to his brothers as if to exclaim, I told you so!

“A request! I knew it would be a request,” he said.

“Let him speak,” Kai said, in a rare moment where he chose to speak moorish rather than his mother tongue. King Yifan threw his husband’s brother a long suffering look, but he did sit back with a sigh.

“All right. Speak, then,” King Yifan said, “what services do your people hope to peddle?”

“Well,” said Kyungsoo, “we are quite skilled with machinery. Back in our homeland, I’ve - we’ve - created machines for all sorts of purposes. We’ve one that can harvest food and one that can till the earth for us. Our machines can cleanse well water and spread nutrients into the soil far faster than any one person can by hand. And I’m sure your laborers would be interested in what knowledge we can share with them of the machines we’ve created.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” the old king said, speaking to Kyungsoo directly for the first time, “what, cleansing water? Water is pure already. What could you possibly do to cleanse it?”

“We once thought that as well,” Kyungsoo began, “however our people noticed over time that untouched, tepid water spreads disease.

Water is a rare commodity in the pale. We must use it sparsely - to grow food and to quench our thirst. When I was a child, there were many of our people who would suffer from violent, unexplained illnesses.

Our physicians thought it was due to an excess of humors, however I was led to believe that there was something in the water we drank that was causing this illness instead. Something that only seemed to happen when the water in our wells sat for long periods of time.

So I - I mean we - we found a way to remove that which caused illness from our water. A filtration system, we called it, using a type of fine sand to separate the bad spirits from the water. And it has worked miraculously well for years now. So well, in fact, that one day I’d hoped to travel across the land and bring it to those who would need it the most.”

By the time he’d finished, there were whispers circulating through the room, both between the guests and the servants who cupped their hands over mouths and bent into each other’s ears.

I do not know if I understand all of what he says, but he must be a magician if what he says is to be believed - he heard, from the mouth of a servant as two of them walked by.

I’ve never heard of such a thing - he thought he heard the queen mother say. What a curious invention.

From where it lay, hidden beneath the table on his lap, the back of his hand was pinched by sharp fingers.

“It is your bright mind, and no one else’s. Do not say otherwise, or I will become angry,” Kai said, causing Kyungsoo to swallow his spit.

“Were you really the one to think of this all by yourself?” Sehun said, leaning forward to into the conversation. “Who knew we had such a gifted individual in our midst?”

“There is no gift, Your Highness,” Kyungsoo muttered, shrinking back into his chair, “only good fortune and intuition.”

“And I’m not sure this contraption even exists,” the old King interrupted, with a dismissive wave, “nor do I know what our people would be able to give yours in exchange for such a machine, even if it was real. What little money they have would mean nothing to you.”

“No, but they could help feed our people back home,” Kyungsoo dared to interject.

“I beg of you, Your Majesty,” Kyungsoo continued, “our people are starving. We’ve fought endless wars for decades now, and with fewer and fewer men returning each year to till our lands, we have had barren fields for years now. What few scraps of meat we have come from the livestock that are as thin and as weak as our people are.”

“You ask us to feed you? To help strengthen the very enemy who tried with all their might to massacre all of us?” King Yifan spat.

“I ask only for a chance, Your Majesty,” Kyungsoo said, well aware that the entire room was keenly focused on the conversation, “I ask you for a fair chance to share what we have - in exchange for your people’s friendship and trust.”

“If it is but friendship and trust that you seek, perhaps you should ask the wives and mothers of those men who bled out on the battlefields!” King Yifan said, the harshness in his booming voice twisting into something more grieving and melancholy as he continued to speak, “your people have stolen so many lives. You very nearly took my own lover from me. To think that I’d sent him away - to have suffered long, lonely nights without him - only to have him return to my side in a battlefield dripping with blood! You cannot begin to imagine how much your people have wounded us.”

Silent in the face of King Yifan’s cold anger, Kyungsoo could only watch as the king reached for his consort’s hand, twining their fingers together as if in search for support. And though Tao seemed to disagree with his husband’s words, he let King Yifan pull his hand close enough to rest the back of it against his cheek. They shared a longing look.

“Lord Kyungsoo had nothing to do with the war. It was his sister’s husband who drove our people to it, not he,” said Bita, coming to Kyungsoo’s rescue.

The entire time, the Chieftainess was as quiet as an owl, head swiveling on its perch to spy on them all, ears perked and eyes sharp and attentive.

“Oh, come now, Lady Bita. You can not be so foolish as to believe that he had no part in this,” countered the king.

“I barely knew my sister’s husband,” Kyungsoo defended himself, “for I could scarcely count the number of times I’ve even seen him. It was always from afar, and even now, I can barely remember what he looked like without his mask. What I did know was that he was a cruel man. I never agreed to the things he has done. But my sister loved him. I had no choice but to abide by her wishes. The only choice I have now is to beseech you for forgiveness and for mercy, Your Majesty.”

King Yifan snorted.

“Go on, then,” he said, “beg for it.”

If any one of the servants had dropped a plate to the ground, it would have been the clearest sound he’d ever heard - for there was nothing else in the stifling, prickling silence that followed. Dust settled between the table, and as the seconds ticked by, Kyungsoo slowly swallowed, eyes dilating as he tightened his jaw.

Before anyone could say a word, he’d stood up, knocking the chair back with a squeal. Kyungsoo stood back to be in full view of the entire room and began to kneel, collapsing to the ground in front of the king with his arms outstretched - fully intending to prostrate himself as the king had demanded.

But just as before, he was stopped before he could even sink to his knees, returned to a standing position by both his lover and Prince Sehun who had leapt up to come to his aid. Kai stood beside him like an unmoving mountain, tall and brooding as he addressed his brother - speaking so uncharacteristically fast and much that Kyungsoo could hardly pick up a word.

“I will not let him treat my lover this way. Yifan may be your husband and your king, but he shall never be mine. Do not think that I won’t leap across this table to protect what’s mine,” Kai threatened. Kyungsoo hadn’t really noticed before - too lost in his own worries to peek on his lover who had barely spoken the entire time - but Kai looked thoroughly agitated, his muscles tensed to the point that he could see the veins bulging in his arms. And though it seemed so difficult to imagine Kai as anything other than sweet and enduring, here he was, looking as if he were about to charge both his brother and the king. Had he been making this same expression the entire time? It was a strange emotion to feel considering the chaos of the moment, but Kyungsoo oddly felt a sense of dazed contentment, basking in the warmth of Kai’s ever constant attentions.

Regardless, there were more important things to worry about. For example, preventing a fight from breaking out between a king and the Chieftainess’ youngest son.

Tao had, by this point, stood up and taken the situation into control, holding a hand out between his brother and his husband to prevent them from ripping each other apart.

“That will not be necessary,” Tao said to Kai, although his eyes were firmly fixed on his husband, “because a promise was made to me that nothing of that sort would happen. Isn’t that right?”

Acting more like a sulking child than a king, Yifan folded his arms and said naught. After waiting as if to make sure the moment had really passed, Tao finally caught his brother’s eyes, gesturing for all of them to take a seat. Sehun sat back down quickly and Kyungsoo followed suit. Although it took longer, Kai eventually did as well, though he remained perched on the edge of his chair as if anticipating to jolt back up at any moment. Beneath the table, Kai reached for Kyungsoo again, this time gripping onto his knee as if to impart some assurance onto the other man.

Do not fear - Kai seemed to be saying to him, with no words at all - I am here.

On the other side of the table, a very different interaction was occurring.

“We have had this conversation before, Yifan,” Tao fiercely muttered to Yifan under his breath, just barely audible over the sound of clattering dishes as the servants took the opportunity to bring in another course of food. “You will never be able to unite the Moors with this kind of loathsome attitude. Especially when you treat this boy who has lost just as much as anyone else as if he were a criminal. Look at him, like you once did me, truly look at him - and realize that he hasn’t a harmful bone in his body.”

“Tao may have a point, my dear. The young man isn’t asking for charity,” Yifan’s mother said, patting her son’s hand kindly, “only for an opportunity to help his people. And do we not have the same ambition? For the sake of maintaining this fragile peace, let us have open minds and open ears, and treat him as well as we ourselves would wish to be treated.”

“Have you lost your damn mind, woman?” said Yifan’s father, pounding his fist down on the table, “are we the only two who have not forgotten the battles that we have just fought? Am I to understand that we should let some - some - some outsider storm in and claim our rightful birthright, our land’s very own resources?”

“Stop being so ridiculous, father,” Prince Sehun interrupted with a snort, “if he really was here to ‘steal your birthright’, why would he have offered to help Chanyeol?”

“...who?” the former King asked.

“Chanyeol. You know, the knight who came back from battle with one arm? The one who fancies mother’s favorite tailor? My old comrade back from childhood? Lord have mercy. Father, your memory is as bad as a magpie’s. Perhaps we should let the royal physician check you over once again…” Sehun muttered.

“Sehun! I’m not that old -”

While his brother and his father bickered, Yifan glanced over across the table to look at the Tidreann lord who had barely spoken since Yifan’s outburst. Lord Kyungsoo was staring down at his dish, eyes never lifting from it though he barely took a single bite of the plum roasted mutton in front of him. To be fair, Lord Kyungsoo certainly looked and acted nothing like his conniving, malicious sister. Though they had the same eyes, pale skin and dark hair, Kyungsoo still looked as if he were a child, his rosy cheeks still clinging onto some of his baby fat. Yifan had originally seen him as shy and pathetically frail, and though there was still something off about the unnatural waxy white of his skin (especially for one who came from such a hot, arid homeland), he was clearly an intelligent man in the spring of his youth. Though perhaps a bit reserved.

Then again, Tao’s brother Kai was as well. The two made for such an odd, quiet couple. Even between the two of them, they hardly spoke a word sometimes.

And yet the way Kai stared at lord Kyungsoo reminded Yifan of the way he’d often find himself staring at Tao even now that they were married and there was nothing standing between the two of them. Although Yifan could be stubborn and headstrong at times, even he could recognize love when he saw it. And if there was one thing he learned from his own whirlwind romance, it was that one could not judge a book by its cover.

...everything inside of him detested the decision he was about to make, but he made it anyway. With a painful sigh, Yifan waved his hand dismissively.

“Fine, fine. You’ll get what you’ve asked for,” he grunted.

“What the King means to say is that of course you may have the opportunity to set up during the harvest festival!” Sehun clarified with a grin, “although, you shouldn’t have to spend the entire festival stuck there. There are far more interesting things to see and to do than to be stuck behind a booth the entire time.”

And then, as if remembering something important, Sehun’s eyes lit up.

“Speaking of interesting things - I have a very important announcement to make,” Sehun said, reaching out blindly to grasp Bita’s hand, who squeezed back to lend him her strength.

“What is it now, Sehun?” his father asked, taking an ill-timed sip of wine.

“I have asked Bita’s family and have been granted her hand in marriage. I would love to receive your blessings as well.”

The old king spat out his drink, splattering the tablecloth and nearly covering an amused Chieftainess with wine, had it not been for her quick reflexes that put her out of harm’s way.

From the rest of the room, a collective hushed gasp was all that could be heard from around the room from guests and servants alike, and immediately, the attention in the room shifted.

King Yifan looked extremely irritated, his jaw clenched tight and eye twitching uncontrollably.

Tao and his mother on the other hand, were cut from the same cloth. They looked very entertained. They kept looking to and fro, amusedly following the reactions of the other guests as if trying to commit it to memory.

Kai was the only one who seemed completely unphased, as if he had known for a long time that the moment was coming. He looked to his best friend, giving Sehun a toothy grin. Kyungsoo was sure if they hadn’t been in the present company, Kai would have reached out and clapped a proud hand on Sehun’s shoulder.

Kyungsoo supposed it wasn’t really a surprise, given how well the two got along, but he hadn’t known that it had progressed to this point already. So he could only gape.

His reaction paled in comparison to the queen mother’s, who was quickly turning pale. Her eyes were rolling swiftly back into her head, and with one last tremulous groan, she collapsed back into her chair.

King Yifan and Bita were the first to react, the former standing up from his chair and calling out for the stewards with frantic waves of his long arms, the latter scrambling ungracefully across the table to the queen’s side, knocking aside plates and nearly setting afire the tablecloth when one of the candelabras fell sideways from the rocking motions.

When the Yifan and Sehun’s father had finally snapped from his shocked stupor to pull his wife into his arms, he had the sternest expression on his face when he looked to his youngest son as if to say: You foolish boy - you’ve done this all on purpose.

Prince Sehun only flashed a cheeky grin. All teeth.

And as the chaos in front of her unfolded, the Chieftainess cackled, leaning forward in her chair to catch her sons’ eyes.

“If I knew this was what all dinners were like, I would have come sooner!” she crowed.

-

“Do you think Sehun did that on purpose?” Kyungsoo asked, sometime later, as they walked back to his room. “Perhaps to distract the king?”

“Maybe,” agreed Kai, “though you’d already gotten what you wanted.”

And then, reaching forward to tuck a stray piece of Kyungsoo’s hair behind his ear, Kai said - “You’ve done well”.

“Have I?” Kyungsoo asked, catching Kai’s hand before Kai had the chance to pull it away. Kyungsoo slipped it into his own, turning his body to face Kai’s. “I must confess that what little education I have had on diplomacy pales in comparison to my sister’s.”

“And yet you’ve done better,” Kai said.

Kai was right. And yet Kyungsoo felt a little guilty admitting it, knowing that she’d tried so hard and for so long to get what he’d been able to achieve in one night. If only she hadn’t their mother’s temper - fierce and vindictive - then perhaps she could have.

Kyungsoo caught Kai’s thoughtful, wandering look, and wished for a moment that the other man would look at him instead. Emboldened by his earlier success, he took what he wanted, reaching out to tug at Kai’s chin and succeeding in gaining the man’s attention.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“That you would have made a good king,” Kai murmured, his sharp teeth nibbling on Kyungsoo’s thumb.

Now there was something Kyungsoo had never really given much thought to in the past, having always thought it was something that was far beyond his place in life. But he was feeling foolish that night, drunk on happiness and Kai’s quiet warmth.

Foolishly, he thought about how it might have been. Would he have been a good, fair king? Or would his family’s madness have taken over him like it had his mother and his sister? And would it still have come to this? Would he have been able to prevent that which had come to happen?

One of the feathers Kai tied into his hair blew again into Kyungsoo’s face, this time tickling his cheek. Soft and smelling faintly foreign and sweet, reminding him of lands he’d not yet seen and a promise of adventure he’d yet to fulfill. And so Kyungsoo had his answer.

He’d never wanted to be king, because even if that had meant the course of history would have changed forever, it also meant that he might not have ever met Kai. And a life without the other man was one that pained Kyungsoo to even think about. How could he imagine such a sedentary, loveless life, now that he knew what it was like to have someone who had promised him the world?

Love, love, love. Love was such a strange, beautiful thing.

As he etched the memory deep into his mind, Kyungsoo took Kai’s face between his hands, rising up onto the tips of his toes so that he could look Kai in the eyes. He rested his forehead against Kai’s, eyes fluttering shut slowly.

“I do not wish to return to my rooms tonight,” Kyungsoo whispered, “for it is too cold and too lonely for me to stay. Won’t you take me to yours tonight instead?”

And Kyungsoo leaned forward before Kai could respond, capturing Kai’s lips with his own.

A/N: Next chapter is y times so I'll probably have to change this story to M unless people prefer like vague mentions of porking idk man lmk wutchu want