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The palace of Marintide had a way of making everything feel inevitable.
The sea stretched endlessly beyond its white stone balconies, waves crashing in a rhythm that felt older than the kingdom itself. The halls were always filled with movement, servants, advisors, and nobles drifting like tides through silk-draped corridors.
And today, apparently, Jongseong’s entire life was supposed to move with it.
“--a most promising alliance,” his father was saying, voice firm and measured in a way that usually meant the decision had already been made. “The kingdom of Elaris has agreed in principle. Their princess is well-educated, well-mannered, and--”
“Beautiful,” his mother added, smiling as she lifted her teacup. “We’ve seen the portrait.”
Of course they had.
Jongseong sat across from them at the long breakfast table, posture perfect, expression carefully neutral. Years of royal training made it easy. Nod at the right moments, keep your voice down, don’t let anything real show.
“And the union will strengthen our eastern trade routes significantly,” his father finished.
There was a pause.
The kind that wasn’t really a pause at all. The kind that waited for agreement.
Jongseong set his fork down gently. “You’ve already decided.”
His mother’s smile didn’t falter. “We’ve made arrangements, yes.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
His father sighed, like this was all mildly inconvenient. “This is how these matters work. You’re of age, Jongseong. It’s time.”
Time.
Like this was a schedule. Like his life was something that could be neatly slotted between trade agreements and seasonal negotiations.
“I see,” Jongseong said.
And he did. That was the problem.
Because there wasn’t really a place in this conversation for no. He said no anyway.
“I don’t want to get married.”
There was a pause.
His mother blinked. His father blinked. A nearby advisor dropped a scroll.
Jongseong straightened slightly. “Respectfully.”
“You’re twenty-five,” his father said carefully, like he was explaining something very obvious. “This is expected.”
“I understand that.”
“Then you understand why this is necessary.”
Jongseong did understand. He understood duty. He understood alliances. He understood expectations.
What he didn’t understand was how he was supposed to marry someone he didn’t love while being very, very in love with someone else.
“I would prefer,” Jongseong said slowly, choosing each word like it might explode, “a bit more time.”
“For what?” his mother asked.
That was a dangerous question. He could not answer it truthful.
To figure out how to run away with the palace gardener didn’t sound like something that would go over very well.
“For… personal considerations,” he settled on.
His father waved a hand. “You can consider things while married.”
That felt deeply incorrect.
“We’ll send word immediately,” his mother continued, already turning to the royal scribe. “Preparations will begin at once.”
And just like that, it was done.
Jongseong nodded once, because that was what princes did when their lives were decided for them.
Then he stood, bowed, and left before anyone could see the exact moment his composure cracked.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The gardens were quieter.
They always were.
Tucked behind the eastern wing of the palace, the royal gardens felt like a different world entirely, less polished, less watched. The sea breeze softened here, carrying the scent of salt and blooming flowers instead of politics and expectations.
It was the only place Jongseong could breathe. And the only place he could have something that was his.
“You’re late.”
Jongseong turned, the tension in his chest easing at the sight of him.
Sunoo stood a few steps away, sleeves rolled up, hands faintly dusted with soil. There was a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and his expression was somewhere between fond and unimpressed.
Jongseong exhaled. “I was detained.”
“That sounds ominous,” Sunoo said, tilting his head. “Did you accidentally agree to something terrible again?”
Jongseong let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yes.”
Sunoo stilled. “...What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Jongseong said. “That’s the problem.”
“What happened?”
Jongseong stepped closer, the carefully constructed walls of the palace falling away with every step. “They’ve arranged my marriage.”
Sunoo didn’t react immediately, which was almost worse.
“With who?” he asked finally.
“A princess.”
“Of course,” Sunoo said faintly.
The words hung between them, heavy and sharp.
Jongseong ran a hand through his hair. “I told them I didn’t want it.”
“And?”
“And they think I need time to ‘consider things while married’.”
Sunoo let out a soft, disbelieving breath. “That’s not how that works.”
“I’m aware.”
Another silence. This one hurt more.
Sunoo looked away, eyes tracing the garden paths like they might offer an exit.
“That’s… good, though,” he said after a moment, voice carefully neutral. “For the kingdom.”
Jongseong stared at him. “Sunoo.”
“It is,” Sunoo insisted, still not looking at him. “You’re a prince. This is what you’re supposed to do.”
“I’m also a person.”
“And people don’t usually get to ignore things like this.”
Jongseong stepped closer. “Look at me.”
Sunoo hesitated, then he did. And that was worse, because there was something in his expression that Jongseong couldn’t stand, something quiet and resigned.
“I’m not marrying her,” Jongseong said.
Sunoo blinked. “You don’t get to just decide that.”
“Yes I do.”
“No, you--” Sunoo stopped, shaking his head. “Jongseong, this isn’t a debate you can win. This is your family. Your kingdom.”
“And you,” Jongseong said, softer now. “What about you?”
Sunoo’s breath caught. “What about me?” he echoed.
“You think I’m just going to stand at an altar and pretend you don’t exist?”
Sunoo flinched slightly. “That’s not what I--”
“I love you.”
The words landed between them, sudden and undeniable. Sunoo went very still.
Jongseong swallowed. “I’m not going to marry someone else while I’m in love with you. I won’t do that to you. Or to myself.”
Sunoo’s voice, when it came, was quiet. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do.”
“No,” Sunoo said, shaking his head, eyes bright now. “You’re saying it like it’s simple. Like love is enough to undo everything else.”
“Isn’t it?” Jongseong asked.
Sunoo laughed softly, and it wasn’t a happy sound. “You’re a prince. I’m a gardener. Your parents are arranging a political marriage, not asking your opinion on curtains.”
“I don’t care.”
“You should.”
“I don’t,” Jongseong repeated. “I care about you.”
Silence again.
Then, barely above a whisper, “They’ll never allow it.”
Jongseong didn’t respond immediately.
Because that was the problem wasn’t it?
He didn’t know. He had never told them, never given them the chance.
But everything he’d ever learned about duty and expectation told him the answer already.
“They won’t,” he said finally.
Sunoo closed his eyes briefly, like that confirmed something he already knew.
“So that’s it,” he said. “You’ll marry her. And I’ll--”
“No.”
Sunoo frowned. “No?”
Jongseong stepped closer, close enough now that there was no space left for distance or doubt. “I’m not staying,” he said.
Sunoo blinked. “What?”
“I’m not marrying her. I’m not pretending. I’m not living a life that isn’t mine.”
“...Jongseong.”
“I mean it.”
There was something different in his voice now, something steady, something decided.
“What are you saying?” Sunoo asked carefully.
Jongseong held his gaze. “Come with me.”
The world seemed to pause. “Where?” Sunoo asked.
“Away.”
“That’s not a place.”
“It’s enough.”
Sunoo let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “You can’t just leave. You’re the crown prince.”
“Then I’ll stop being the crown prince. Heeseung is more than capable of taking my place.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“I say that like it’s worth it.”
Sunoo stared at him, searching his face for hesitation. There wasn’t any.
“You’d be abandoning everything,” Sunoo said quietly. “Your title, your family, your future.”
Jongseong didn’t look away. “You are my future.”
That did it. Sunoo’s composure cracked just slightly, emotion flickering across his face before he could hide it.
“You’re serious,” he said.
“I’ve never been more serious about anything.”
A long pause.
Then, “...You’d be terrible at a normal life,” Sunoo said.
Jongseong blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t even know how to bargain at a market.”
“I can learn.”
“You’d get scammed immediately.”
“I would not.”
“You absolutely would.”
Despite everything, Jongseong huffed out a quiet laugh. “I’ll have you there to prevent that.”
Sunoo hesitated. “You really think we could just… disappear?”
“I think we could try.”
“And if it goes wrong?”
Jongseong reached for his hand, tentative at first, then certain. “Then at least it’ll be our choice.”
Sunoo looked down at their hands, then back up at him. There was fear there, but something else too.
Hope.
“...When?” he asked.
Jongseong didn't hesitate. “Soon.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
If there was one thing Jongseong prided himself on, it was composure. Grace under pressure, precision in speech, control in all things.
Unfortunately, none of that seemed to apply when he was trying to secretly plan his own escape from the palace.
“You’re holding the map upside down.”
Jongseong froze. Very slowly, he turned his head.
Heeseung was leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
Jongseong did not react. He did not panic. He did not, under any circumstances, jump and nearly knock over the table.
“You’re imagining things,” Jongseong said calmly.
Heeseung walked into the room, plucked the map right out of his hands, and flipped it around. “No, I’m pretty sure north is still up.” He tapped the compass in the corner of the map.
Jongseong stared at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here,” Heeseung said. “What are you doing? Other than planning what looks suspiciously like a dramatic escape route.”
“I’m not--”
“There are three different paths marked in red ink,” Heeseung continued, gesturing at the map. “And you’ve labeled one of them ‘less guards’?? with two question marks. That’s not very convincing.”
Jongseong closed his eyes briefly. This was fine. This was manageable.
“Leave,” he said.
Heeseung blinked. “That’s rude. I came all this way to be supportive.”
“You’re not being supportive.”
“I absolutely am. I haven’t even told anyone yet.”
Jongseong’s eyes snapped open. “Yet?”
Heeseung grinned.
It was not a reassuring expression.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
It took exactly twelve minutes for everything to unravel.
“Well?” Heeseung said, now seated comfortably on Jongseong’s couch like he belonged there. “Are you going to explain, or should I start guessing?”
“There’s nothing to explain.”
“Okay,” Heeseung nodded thoughtfully. “So you’re not secretly in love with someone you’re not supposed to be with, and you’re not planning to abandon your royal duties to run away with them, leaving me to take over the country when father dies instead of you.”
Jongseong went still.
Heeseung leaned forward, delighted. “Oh, I got it in one?”
“...Get out.”
“No.”
Jongseong exhaled slowly. “Heeseung--”
“I knew something was off,” Heeseung cut in. “You’ve been disappearing at odd hours, you’ve ignored at least three council meetings, and yesterday you walked directly into a pillar.”
“That happened once.”
“You apologized to the pillar.”
“It was in my way.”
Heeseung squinted at him. “You’re in love.”
Jongseong said nothing.
Heeseung gasped. “You’re really in love.”
“That is none of your business.”
“Oh, it is entirely my business now,” Heeseung said brightly. “Who is it?”
Silence.
Heeseung leaned back, tapping his chin. “Let’s see… not nobility, because our parents would have no problem with that. Not a visiting dignitary, we haven’t had one of those for a while. Definitely someone in the palace because you never leave…”
Jongseong turned away. “...Oh,” Heeseung said.
The shift in his voice was subtle, but it was there. “Oh,” he repeated, softer this time. “It’s someone you’re not supposed to be with.”
Jongseong didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
Heeseung’s expression changed, not into shock or disapproval, but understanding.
“Well,” he said after a moment, “that explains the dramatic map.”
Jongseong frowned slightly, caught off guard. “That’s your reaction?”
“What did you expect?” Heeseung asked. “A speech? Disappointment? A dramatic fainting spell?”
“...maybe not that last one.”
“I can still do that if it would make you feel better. I’ve gotten quite good at them.”
“It wouldn’t.”
“Good, because I’m saving it for something more important.”
Jongseong studied him carefully. “You’re not… surprised?”
Heeseung shrugged. “I mean, I am a little surprised you didn’t tell me sooner. This is excellent material.”
“This isn’t a joke.”
“I know.”
The words came easily, but for once, Heeseung didn’t sound like he was teasing.
Jongseong hesitated, then quietly, he said, “They’ve arranged my marriage.”
Heeseung blinked. “Ah.”
“A princess,” Jongseong added. “From Elaris.”
“And you’re planning to run away.”
“Yes.”
There was a brief pause, then Heeseung clapped his hands once. “Alright.”
Jongseong stared at him. “Alright?”
“Alright,” Heeseung repeated. “What’s the plan?”
“...You’re serious.”
“Completely.”
“You’re not going to try to stop me?”
“Why would I do that?” Heeseung asked. “You clearly don’t want this marriage. And you’re in love with someone else.” He tilted his head. “Seems pretty straightforward to me.”
“It’s not.”
“It never is,” Heeseung said cheerfully. “That’s what makes it interesting.”
Jongseong let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been told.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Later that evening, in the gardens, “This is a terrible idea.”
Jongseong did not turn around. “You don’t have to come.”
“I know,” Sunoo said. “That’s not the point.”
Jongseong finally looked at him. “Then what is?”
“The point is that you’re a prince,” Sunoo said, crossing his arms. “And you’re planning to run away like this is all some kind of fairytale.”
“It’s not a story.”
“Then start acting like it.”
Jongseong frowned. “You agreed to this.”
“I know, and I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have.”
Before Jongseong could respond, the hedge spoke, “Okay, first of all, rude.”
Both of them froze. Sunoo blinked. “Did that--”
“Yes,” Jongseong said flatly. “It did.”
From a nearby hedge, Heeseung popped up with a grin on his face. “Hi!” he said brightly.
Sunoo stared at him. Jongseong closed his eyes, his brows furrowing in frustration. “You followed me.”
“Of course I did,” Heeseung said. “You’re planning an escape. I need to assess the situation.”
“This is not a situation for you to assess.”
“I disagree.”
Heeseung stepped forward, looking between them with open curiosity.
“This is him, isn’t it?”
Jongseong did not answer. Sunoo looked like he might actually disappear into the ground.
Heeseung’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it is.”
“This is a mistake,” Jongseong muttered.
“I think it’s great,” Heeseung said immediately. Then, to Sunoo, “Hi, I’m Heeseung. I’m his favorite sibling.”
“You’re my only sibling, idiot. And even if you weren't, you're definitely not my favorite.”
“Anyway,” Heeseung continued smoothly, “I just want to say I fully support this relationship.”
Sunoo blinked. “You do?”
“Absolutely. You seem lovely. He seems miserable without you. It’s very convincing.”
Jongseong stared at him. “You’ve known him for five seconds.”
“I have excellent instincts.”
Sunoo let out a small, startled laugh before he could stop himself.
Heeseung pointed at him. “See? He likes me already.”
“This is not helping,” Jongseong said.
“I think it’s helping a lot.”
“It’s not.”
“It is.”
Sunoo covered his mouth, trying and failing to hide a smile.
Jongseong looked between the two of them and sighed. “This is a disaster.”
“No,” Heeseung said, slinging an arm casually around Jongseong’s shoulders. “This is a plan.”
“That is exactly what I’m worried about.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
By the time the moon had risen high over the gardens, Heeseung had critiqued Jongseong’s escape routes, suggested at least three unnecessarily dramatic disguises, offered to “fake a minor diplomatic incident” as a distraction, and somehow inserted himself fully into the plan.
“You cannot come with us,” Jongseong said for what felt like the tenth time.
“I don’t want to come with you,” Heeseung replied. “One, I have standards, and two, someone has to stay and take over once the old man keels over.”
“Then stop acting like you’re part of this.”
“I am part of this,” Heeseung said. “I’m the reason you won’t get caught immediately.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It should be.”
Sunoo shook his head, smiling faintly. “He’s not going to leave, is he?”
“No,” Jongseong said.
“Definitely not,” Heeseung confirmed.
There was a pause, then Sunoo laughed softly, something lighter than before, and Jongseong realized for the first time since this whole mess started, things didn’t feel quite so impossible.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Later, as Sunoo slipped away and the gardens fell quiet again, Heeseung leaned against the stone wall, watching Jongseong carefully.
For once, he wasn’t smiling.
“You’re really going through with this,” he said.
Jongseong nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re giving up everything.”
“I know.”
Heeseung studied him for a long moment. “...Are you going to regret it?”
Jongseong didn’t answer right away. Then, “No,” he said.
Heeseung held his gaze, then, slowly, he smiled again.
“Alright,” he said lightly. “Then we’re doing this properly.”
Jongseong frowned. “We?”
“We,” Heeseung repeated. “If you’re going to run away for love, you could at least make it memorable.”
“I don’t want memorable. I want successful.”
“Why not both?”
Jongseong sighed and Heeseung grinned.
And somewhere between the chaos and the certainty, the plan became real.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The palace had never felt this loud before.
Every footstep echoed. Every flicker of torchlight felt like it was watching him.
Jongseong forced himself to keep walking, calm, measured, and normal, like he wasn’t about to abandon his entire life in less than an hour.
“You look like you’re about to confess to a crime.”
Jongseong didn’t even flinch this time.
“...Must you do that?” he muttered.
Heeseung appeared beside him as if he’d always been there, hands clasped behind his back like this was a casual evening stroll. “Yes,” he said. “It’s part of my charm.”
“You don’t have charm.”
“I have abundant charm. You’re just stressed and unable to appreciate it.”
“I am stressed because you won’t leave me alone.”
“And yet,” Heeseung said thoughtfully, “if I did leave you alone, you’d probably get caught within five minutes.”
Jongseong exhaled slowly. “I am not going to get caught.”
“You walked past the same guard twice.”
“...I did not.”
“You nodded at him both times.”
Jongseong stopped walking. Heeseung stopped too, turning to face him with entirely unearned confidence. “Relax,” he said. “I fixed it.”
“You ‘fixed’ it.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Heeseung smiled.
Jongseong immediately regretted asking.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Five minutes later, Jongseong found out exactly what “fixing it” meant.
“Why,” Jongseong said flatly, “is there a musician in the hallway?”
“There isn’t just one musician,” Heeseung said proudly. “There are five.”
As if on cue, a small group of palace musicians struck up an unexpectedly loud and wildly inappropriate tune near the main corridor.
Guards turned, servants paused, and someone dropped a tray.
Jongseong stared.
“You created a distraction.”
“Yes.”
“This is not subtle.”
“It’s effective.”
“That guard is now looking directly at us.”
“Confidence,” Heeseung said. “Walk like you belong.”
“I do belong here.”
“Then walk faster.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Somehow, somehow, they made it to the outer gardens.
The moment the palace walls opened into the night air, Jongseong felt it again, that sharp, breathless mix of fear and possibility.
This was it.
“Alright,” Heeseung said, suddenly more focused. “From here, fewer guards. You go through the east path, down the lower terrace, and--”
“I know the plan.”
“I’m just making sure you don’t forget it under pressure.”
“I won’t.”
Heeseung studied him for a second. “He’s waiting, right?”
Jongseong nodded.
“Good,” Heeseung said. “Then go.”
Jongseong hesitated. “...You’re not coming?”
Heeseung looked almost offended. “What, and ruin the dramatic reunion? Absolutely not.”
“This is serious.”
“I know.”
For once, his voice matched his words. Heeseung stepped back, giving him space.
“Go,” he repeated.
Jongseong held his gaze for a moment, then he turned and ran.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The garden gate was exactly where it had always been.
Same stone arch, same climbing vines, same quiet, hidden corner of the world.
But tonight, it felt different.
Tonight, it felt like a threshold, and just beyond it--
“Jongseong.”
He stopped. Relief hit so hard it almost knocked the breath out of him.
Sunoo stood by the gate, a small bag slung over his shoulder, eyes wide and searching.
“You made it,” Sunoo said.
“Of course I did.”
“You’re late.”
“There were… complications.”
Sunoo huffed a soft laugh. “That’s reassuring.”
Jongseong stepped closer, not stopping until they were inches apart. For a second, neither of them spoke.
Then Sunoo said quietly, “We can still turn back.”
Jongseong shook his head. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
Sunoo searched his face, and whatever he saw there made something in his expression soften.
“Okay,” he said.
Okay.
It felt too simple for something this big.
Jongseong reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “Ready?” he asked.
Sunoo nodded.
They turned toward the gate.
Freedom was--
“Going somewhere?”
Everything stopped. Jongseong’s grip tightened instinctively. Sunoo went still beside him.
Slowly, Jongseong turned around.
His father stood a few steps away, his mother beside him.
And behind them, guards. Too many guards.
For a moment, no one spoke.
“Well,” Heeseung said from somewhere off to the side, “this is unfortunate timing.”
Jongseong closed his eyes.
Of course.
Of course he was still here.
“This is… a surprise,” his father said slowly.
Jongseong stepped forward slightly, placing himself just ahead of Sunoo without thinking.
“Father--”
“Careful,” his mother said sharply. “You’re already in enough trouble.”
Trouble. That word settled heavily in the air.
Sunoo’s hand slipped from his. Jongseong felt it like something breaking.
“Explain,” his father said.
Silence.
Then Heeseung stepped forward. “This is actually very simple,” he said brightly. “You see--”
“No,” Jongseong said. Heeseung paused and Jongseong took a deep breath.
This was it. No more hiding.
“I’ll explain.”
The words felt heavier than anything he’d ever said. “I don’t want the marriage,” Jongseong said.
His mother frowned. “That is not your decision.”
“It is.”
“It is not.”
“It is if I refuse.”
“You will not refuse--”
“I love Sunoo.”
Silence.
Absolute, total silence.
Jongseong’s heart pounded so hard it hurt. But he didn’t stop. “I’m not going to marry someone else when I’m already in love with him,” he said, voice steadier now. “I won’t do it.”
His father stared at him. His mother looked like she’d forgotten how to speak. And beside him, Sunoo hadn’t moved.
Jongseong forced himself to keep going.
“I know what you’ll say,” he continued. “I know this isn’t what you want. I know this isn’t what you planned. But I’m not going to lose him just because--”
“Wait.”
The word cut cleanly through everything.
Jongseong stopped.
His father blinked. “You’re… what?”
Jongseong frowned slightly. “I said I know what you’ll say.”
“No, before that.”
“...I don’t want the marriage?”
“No, the other thing.”
Jongseong stared at him. “...I love him?”
“Yes, that,” his father said. “That part.”
There was a pause. A very strange pause.
His mother tilted her head slightly. “You mean… you’re--”
“Yes,” Jongseong said, bracing himself. “I am.”
Silence again. But this time, it felt different.
Jongseong frowned. This wasn’t the reaction he expected.
“...You didn’t know?” Heeseung said slowly.
Both parents turned to look at him.
“No,” his mother said.
“No,” his father echoed.
Heeseung blinked, then looked at Jongseong. Then back at their parents. “...You didn’t know,” he repeated.
Jongseong felt something shift, confusion cutting through the fear. “What do you mean, you didn’t know?” he asked.
His parents exchanged a look. “Well,” his mother said carefully, “you never told us.”
Jongseong stared at her. “...I thought it was obvious.”
“It was not.”
“You arranged a marriage.”
“Yes,” his father said. “With a princess.”
“Exactly.”
“...Yes?” his father said again, clearly not following.
Heeseung slowly raised a hand to his face. “Oh my--” he muttered. “We did all of this--”
“No one is ‘doing’ anything yet,” his father snapped.
“No, no,” Heeseung said, waving a hand. “I just need a moment to process the fact that this entire situation exists because of a communication issue.”
Jongseong looked down between all of them, something unsteady forming in his chest.
“Wait,” he said. “If you didn’t know-- then why--?”
“Because you’re the crown prince,” his mother said. “And crown princes marry.”
Jongseong blinked. “That’s it.”
“That’s it.”
“...You weren’t trying to--” he hesitated. “Fix anything?”
“Fix what?” his father asked.
Jongseong opened his mouth and closed it when he found he had no words.
“...Oh.”
Behind him, Heeseung made a strangled noise. “I cannot believe this,” he whispered.
Everything had stopped. The fear. The uncertainty. The plan.
Jongseong looked at Sunoo, who looked just as stunned. And suddenly, nothing felt as solid as it had a moment ago.
“...So,” Heeseung said slowly, stepping forward again, “just to clarify, no one is being disowned.”
“No,” his father said.
“No one is being forced into anything?”
“No.”
“And running away was, hypothetically, unnecessary?”
“Yes.”
Heeseung turned to Jongseong, then to Sunoo, then back to his father. “...I would like it formally noted,” he said, “that I supported that plan the entire time.”
Jongseong stared at him. “This is your takeaway?”
“It’s an important takeaway.”
The tension hadn’t fully disappeared.
But it had… changed. And Jongseong could feel it.
The worst hadn’t happened. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure what had happened.
But for the first time since this all started, there was something else in the air. Something unfamiliar.
Something that felt a little like hope.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
For a long moment, no one moved.
The night air felt strangely still, like even the ocean had paused to listen.
Jongseong stood frozen, the weight of everything he’d just said still hanging in the space between him and his parents.
Beside him, Sunoo hadn’t let go of his hand again.
Behind him--
“Well,” Heeseung said, clapping his hands once. “That was deeply anticlimactic.”
Jongseong did not turn around. “Could you not,” he said quietly.
“I’m just saying,” Heeseung continued, undeterred, “I was emotionally prepared for at least one dramatic disownment. Maybe a fainting spell. Possibly a duel.”
“No one is dueling,” his father said.
“That’s disappointing.”
“Stop talking.”
“Alright,” Heeseung said. “But only because I respect the gravity of the situation.”
A pause.
“...And also because I want to hear what happens next.”
Jongseong took a breath. “Father. Mother.”
They both looked at him, really looking now. Not like a prince, like their son.
“I meant what I said,” Jongseong continued. “I’m not going to marry the princess. I can’t.”
His mother’s gaze flickered briefly to Sunoo, then back to him. “...Because of him.”
“Yes.”
There was no hesitation this time.
His father frowned slightly, not angry, just… thinking.
“And this,” he said slowly, gesturing between them, “this is serious.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“Well,” his mother said, “that would have been useful information earlier.”
Jongseong blinked. “I-- what?”
“You could have told us,” she continued. “We didn’t arrange your marriage out of spite, Jongseong.”
“I didn’t think it was spite,” he said. “I thought it was… expectation.”
“It is expectation,” his father said. “But expectations can… adjust.
Jongseong stared at him. “...They can?”
“Yes.”
Heeseung made a soft choking noise behind them.
“No one asked you,” Jongseong muttered.
“I didn’t say anything!” Heeseung whispered loudly.
Sunoo shifted beside him. Jongseong felt it immediately.
“I should go,” Sunoo said softly.
Jongseong turned. “What? No.”
“This is… this is a family discussion.”
“You are a part of this.”
“I’m not,” Sunoo said, shaking his head. “I’m just--”
“A person I love,” Jongseong cut in. “Which makes you part of this.”
Sunoo hesitated.
Jongseong’s mother watched the exchange carefully. “...You’re the gardener,” she said.
Sunoo stiffened slightly. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“You take care of the eastern terraces.”
“...Yes.”
She tilted her head, studying him. “The roses have been doing better lately.”
Sunoo blinked, clearly not expecting that. “I-- thank you.”
“I thought that was new fertilizer,” the king said.
“It might be both,” she replied.
Jongseong looked between them, completely lost. “Is this-- are we discussing gardening right now?”
“It’s relevant,” Heeseung whispered. “This is a good sign.”
“No one asked you,” Jongseong said again.
His father exhaled, folding his arms. “This is… unexpected,” he admitted.
“That seems to be a theme,” Heeseung added.
Jongseong shot him a look.
“But,” the king continued, ignoring him. “It does not change the core issue.”
Jongseong’s chest tightened. “Which is?”
“You are a prince,” his father said. “The crown prince at that. And your marriage matters, not just to you, but to the kingdom.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” his father asked. “Because running away suggests otherwise.”
Jongseong flinched.
“That was--”
“A bad plan,” Heeseung supplied.
“It was the only plan I had,” Jongseong said.
“And that,” his mother said gently, “is the problem.”
Jongseong frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You assumed,” she said, “that we would never accept this. That you had no choice but to leave.”
“...Didn’t I?”
“No.”
The word landed softly.
But it changed everything.
Silence settled again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy.
It was… uncertain. Careful.
“You could have told us,” his father said. “We would have listened.”
Jongseong let out a quiet, disbelieving breath. “You arranged a marriage without asking me.”
“Yes,” his father said. “Because we thought we understood the situation.”
“...You didn’t.”
“No,” his mother said. “Clearly, we didn’t.”
There was something almost rueful in her expression now. “And that is… on us as well.
Jongseong blinked. That wasn’t what he expected either.
Sunoo spoke again, quieter this time. “But even if--” he hesitated. “Even if you didn’t know… this doesn’t change what I am.”
Jongseong’s grip on his hand tightened.
His father looked at him. “And what is that?”
Sunoo swallowed. “I’m not… suitable for this.”
“That depends,” his mother said, “on what you think ‘this’ is.”
“Royalty,” Sunoo said simply.
A small pause.
“You make him happy,” she said.
Sunoo froze. Jongseong did too.
“Well,” Heeseung added helpfully, “he’s significantly less unbearable when Sunoo is around, so I would agree.”
“That is not helping,” Jongseong muttered.
“I think it’s helping a lot.”
His father sighed, rubbing his temples briefly. “This is not how I expected this evening to go.”
“I think it went very well,” Heeseung said. “No one ran away. No one was disowned. I’d call that a success.”
Jongseong glanced at him. “...We almost ran away.”
“Almost doesn’t count.”
Another pause.
“The engagement,” his father said slowly, “can be reconsidered.”
Jongseong’s breath caught. “...Reconsidered.”
“Yes.”
“You mean--”
“I mean,” his mother said, “we are not in the habit of forcing our children into marriages that will make them miserable.”
“That seems like a very recent policy,” Heeseung murmured.
Jongseong ignored him.
“You would… cancel it?” he asked.
“If that is what you want,” his father said.
Jongseong didn’t hesitate. “It is.”
The answer came easily, immediately, like it had been waiting.
Silence again, but this time it felt like something opening, something shifting into place.
Jongseong looked at Sunoo and Sunoo looked back.
Neither of them spoke.
They didn’t need to.
“Well,” Heeseung said after a moment, stretching his arms overhead, “that was much easier than expected.”
Jongseong turned to him slowly. “You were prepared for this to go badly.”
“I was prepared for everything,” Heeseung corrected. “Including a dramatic escape, which, frankly, I’m a little disappointed we didn’t get to complete.”
“You are unbelievable.”
“And yet consistently correct.”
“You were not correct.”
“I supported you emotionally.”
“You made a band appear in the hallway.”
“That was strategic.”
Sunoo let out a small laugh, soft and relieved.
Jongseong looked at him and felt something in his chest settle for the first time in days.
His mother watched them both for a moment. “We will discuss the details tomorrow,” she said. “Properly.”
Jongseong nodded.
His father added, “No more running away.”
“...Understood.”
“And no more secrets.”
Jongseong hesitated. “...Understood.”
The guards began to disperse.
The tension dissolved.
The night felt like itself again.
As his parents turned to leave, Heeseung stepped forward. “Just for the record,” he said, “I do expect to be credited for my role in this.”
His father paused. “...What role?”
“Emotional support. Strategic planning. Moral guidance--”
“You encouraged me to run away,” Jongseong said.
“I encouraged you to follow your heart.”
“You drew three different escape routes.”
“Only one of them was bad.”
“They were all bad.”
“Debatable.”
His mother sighed. “Go to bed, all of you.”
“Yes, Mother,” Heeseung said immediately.
Then, under his breath as he walked, “My future wedding speech is going to be incredible.”
The garden grew quiet again.
Just the two of them now, Jongseong and Sunoo.
For a moment, neither moved, then Sunoo crashed into Jongseong, shoving his head into Jongseong’s chest.
“That went… differently than expected,” Sunoo said, muffled in Jongseong’s shirt.
Jongseong huffed a soft laugh as he brought his hands up to run through Sunoo’s hair. “That’s one way to put it.”
“You were going to give up everything for me.”
“I was.”
Sunoo looked at him. “You meant it.”
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then Sunoo smiled, soft, a little overwhelmed, but real.
“...You’re ridiculous.”
“And yet,” Jongseong said gently, stepping closer, “you’re still here.”
Sunoo nodded.
“...Yeah.”
The garden didn’t feel like an escape anymore.
It didn’t have to be.
It was just a beginning.
And somewhere, not too far away, Heeseung was already planning something that would, inevitably, become someone else’s problem.
Most likely his own.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The royal wedding of Crown Prince Jongseong was, by all accounts, a historic event.
It marked a shift in tradition, a redefinition of expectation, and a moment that would be remembered for generations as a symbol of change, love, and--
“Why,” the king said slowly, “is there a goat in the courtyard?”
Jongseong closed his eyes.
Please, not today.
“His name is Glitter Boy,” Heeseung said, standing proudly beside said goat, “and he’s part of the ambiance.”
“That is not ambiance,” the queen said.
“That is livestock.”
“He’s festive livestock.”
“It is eating the floral arrangements.”
“That means he feels comfortable,” Heeseung said. “Which is exactly the atmosphere we want.”
Across the courtyard, a noblewoman let out a quiet gasp as the goat knocked over a decorative stand and attempted to chew on a ribbon.
Jongseong picked the bridge of his nose. “You said you would help,” he said.
“I am helping,” Heeseung replied. “This is memorable.”
“I don’t want your idea of memorable.”
“You’re getting memorable.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
The ceremony itself, miraculously, remained intact.
Mostly.
The archway was covered in blooming flowers, many of which had survived the goat.
The ocean stretched endlessly behind it, sunlight dancing across the waves like something out of a painting.
And at the end of the aisle, Sunoo stood, looking like he belonged there.
Which, Jongseong realized, he did. Completely.
Jongseong stepped forward, the world narrowing to just that moment, that space, that person.
Sunoo smiled at him, soft, bright, and real.
“You’re late,” Sunoo murmured as Jongseong reached him.
“I’m the groom,” Jongseong said. “I can’t be late.”
“You’re still late.”
“That’s because someone released a goat into the ceremony.”
“I heard about that.”
“Of course you did.”
Sunoo’s smile widened. “It’s kind of funny.”
Jongseong stared at him. “You’re encouraging him.”
“I’m accepting him.”
“That’s worse.”
Somewhere behind them, Heeseung whispered loudly, “I feel like my contributions are being underappreciated."
“Be quiet,” someone hissed.
“I’m just saying, without me, this would be a normal wedding.”
“That’s the goal.”
“Boring.”
The vows, at least, were uninterrupted. No goats, no fires, no spontaneous musical performances.
“I choose you,” Jongseong said, voice steady despite everything, “not because I have to. Not because it’s expected. But because it’s the only choice that’s ever felt right.”
Sunoo’s eyes softened. “And I choose you,” Sunoo replied, “even when you make terrible plans and panic under pressure.”
“I do not panic.”
“You absolutely panic.”
“...Only occasionally.”
Sunoo laughed quietly. “Even then.”
Jongseong smiled.
And for once, everything felt simple.
“You may now seal your vows with a kiss,” the officiant said.
Jongseong didn’t hesitate. He leaned in and kissed Sunoo.
It was soft at first, then warmer. The kind of kiss that didn’t need to prove anything to anyone else, because they already had.
The courtyard erupted into applause.
Somewhere, the goat bleated. A glass shattered. Someone cheered a little too loudly.
And through it all, Jongseong pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against Sunoo’s.
“...We made it,” Sunoo said.
Jongseong let out a quiet breath. “Yeah,” he said.
“We did.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Later, much later, as the celebration carried on with music, laughter, and at least one questionable dance attempt, Heeseung leaned against the balcony railing, watching everything with a satisfied expression.
“You know,” he said to no one in particular, “this really turned out well.”
“You released a goat,” Jongseong said, appearing beside him.
“And yet,” Heeseung replied, “everyone is having a great time.”
Jongseong glanced out at the crowd, at Sunoo, laughing with a group of guests, at the warm glow of the palace lights, at something that felt, finally, like his.
“...Yeah,” he admitted.
Heeseung grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m not thanking you.”
“You will. Eventually.”
“Unlikely.”
“Emotionaly, you already have.”
Jongseong sighed.
Heeseung beamed.
<<>><<>><<>><<>>
Somewhere in the distance, a servant chased the goat.
The music swelled.
The sea stretched endlessly beyond the palace walls.
And for once, everything was exactly as it should be.