"Charles, really, what were you thinking? How could you be late this morning when I told you about this yesterday?" Sofia asked, exasperated, as she sat on the edge of her daybed with her arms crossed.
Charles stood by the window, his back to her, staring out at the palace gardens. He let out a long sigh.
"Thanks for getting me out of there. This is… so unlike me," he said, shaking his head. He ran a hand through his hair, lost in thought and lacking his usual composure.
"You're right. It is unlike you. What's gotten into you?"
Charles remained silent, his gaze fixed on the glass. Sofia stood up and crossed the room. She stopped just behind him.
"Does it have anything to do with that?" she asked, reaching out to poke a faint, reddish mark on his neck, just visible beneath his collar.
"Sofia!" Charles flinched, smacking her hand away and adjusting his collar to hide the mark. "Anyway, I apologize, sister. I should get going."
Sofia shook her head, watching him leave. She had never seen her brother act this way before. Between the two of them, he had always been the angel, the perfect prince. He had never even thrown tantrums as a child. At one point, their mother had jokingly inquired about hiring an instructor just to teach him how to be a child
It was only when Charles met the twins, Calix and Felix, that he'd begun to show signs of youthful mischief. Growing up, while Sofia and their peers navigated social dramas, Charles had remained focused on his studies and his duties. In fact, he was the one everyone ran to when they were in trouble.
Sofia remembered the time the Grand Duke's nephew had held a private event that went wrong. Several attendants were injured, and no local doctors would treat them. Terrified of their fathers finding out, the young nobles had turned to Charles. Without a word, he quietly arranged for doctors from the Royal Medical Institute to treat them.
Sofia and their mother often urged him to mingle with his peers and to enjoy his youth, but he rarely did. When he attended social functions, it was strictly to keep up appearances. His only real friends were his inner circle of guards: the twins, Hana, Kai, and Lyra.
Lyra was a close friend of Sofia's, and Charles had always treated her like a younger sister. It was actually on Sofia's request that he had let her into his circle. He used to be wary of Lyra, suspecting she might report back to Sofia about his personal life. But eventually, he stopped caring, mostly because he never did anything out of the ordinary worth reporting. That was the case, until recently.
As Charles walked down the corridor, away from Sofia's inquisitive eyes, his mind wandered to Benjamin. He wondered if he could really pursue this relationship with him. The words he had whispered to Benjamin the night before echoed in his mind. What was it about Benjamin?
It wasn't just desire. For the first time, Charles felt seen, not as a prince, but as a person beneath the crown. With Benjamin he was simply just a man. Benjamin was a source of comfort for him.He provided a safe space where Charles could complain about the absurdities of his duties or other personal affairs without the fear of starting a scandal.
He was drawn to Benjamin's gentle nature which was a stark contrast to his formidable swordsmanship and combat skills. Benjamin could be dangerous, yet he chose kindness. It flowed from his every action, a quiet compassion that sometimes even annoyed Charles, especially when Benjamin set aside his own needs to help others.
When he was with Benjamin, Charles felt a sense of childlike wonder. He was always learning something new, about himself, about the world outside the palace walls, and about how simple life could be. Benjamin was a breath of fresh air in the rigid, suffocating life Charles had built for himself.
For all these reasons, Charles knew one thing with absolute certainty. He wouldn't let go. He couldn't let go. He would find a way, no matter what, to be with the one person who made him feel whole.
** ** ** ** ** **
The weeks bled into one another, and just as the Mid-Autumn Ball drew closer, so did Charles and Benjamin.
Most nights, Charles would quietly slip away from the palace, moving stealthily to evade the two King's guards who had recently been stationed in his wing. At Benjamin's, they would spend the nights learning every mole, every mark, and every nook and crook of each other's bodies, their pheromones mingling over whispered affections. In the quiet aftermath, they lay tangled in the sheets as they talked about everything and nothing at all.
Charles spoke of his father's increasing scrutiny, the mandatory dinners, and the guards, but he couldn't find it in himself to tell Benjamin about the engagement. The words sat on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't force them out.
Charles told himself it was because he didn't want to hurt Benjamin, but deep down, he knew it was his own selfishness and fear. He didn't want Benjamin to look at him with betrayal. He didn't want Benjamin to cut him off, he was already still so closed off, and he felt as if he were just starting to see glimpses of the real Benjamin. He felt as if he were the villain in his own story, and the guilt consumed him.
Charles had come up with four different plans to end the engagement before it began:
The first plan he had come up with was to make an appeal to the Emperor himself. The Emperor had asked him to protect Benjamin after all, but, would this count as protecting Benjamin?
The second plan was to find another suitor for Shirin. There would be royalty and nobility present at the Mid-Autumn Ball. If he could just orchestrate a meeting, spark a romance, perhaps she would break the engagement herself.
Third, an appeal to Prince Zaid. He could offer Zaid support for the throne in exchange for his support against the engagement. The only problem was that if Zaid wasn't aiming for the crown, or if he told his sister, the plan would backfire.
And fourth, the last resort, was begging Shirin herself.
The mounting pressure as the ball drew closer overwhelmed him. Only when he looked into Benjamin's eyes, the world stilled and narrowed down to just the two of them.
"There you go again, Charles," Benjamin said softly. "You seem to be lost in thought a lot these days. If anything is bothering you, you know you can tell me."
Charles brushed it off with a laugh. He shifted down and began pressing soft, wet kisses along Benjamin's thighs, working his way up.
"Do you like it?" Charles said, looking up at Benjamin's face.
Benjamin laughed heartily with his eyes squeezing shut.
"Do you?" Charles teased, placing his mouth over the bulge in Benjamin's trousers. His hand drifted up, his fingers unintentionally tracing the long, vertical scar on Benjamin's left thigh.
Charles had noticed the scar the first night they were together. It explained the slight imbalance in Benjamin's movements.
Charles often kissed the scar and traced his lips along its length. He felt Benjamin shudder each time he did it, yet Benjamin never once brought up the scar, which meant it was something he didn't want to talk about. Charles respected the silence around it.
But this time, there was no shudder.
Benjamin's laugh faded, replaced by a small, faint smile.
"Are you okay?" Charles asked, lifting his head up.
Benjamin nodded slowly. "The scar. You never once asked me about it."
"It seemed like you didn't want me to. Was I… wrong?"
Benjamin shook his head. "It's just something I'd like to forget, but can't."
"Did it hurt?" Charles asked, immediately feeling foolish for asking the question.
"There were no painkillers," Benjamin said softly. "I only received medicine after the stitches were done." He winced, remembering the pain.
Charles stared at him, horrified. "That must have been excruciating. Why weren't there any painkillers? Do you mind if I ask what happened?"
"In the outer regions, it's not as easy to get access to medicine. I was in a small town back then, just a year or two after the AMA mandated that all settlements over a hundred residents must have a clinic within fifty kilometers.
"When I was injured, I received help from a passerby. She was a traditional healer from Naga traveling with others in a small group. She was low on herbal supplies, yet she gave me all she had left, but it wasn't enough. She sent someone to fetch medicine, but by the time it arrived, she had already stitched me up. I had already passed out from the pain. When I woke days later, they were gone."
Charles listened, his heart hurt imagining the pain Benjamin had gone through. Charles thought that to others, it must look as if Benjamin had lived a life of ease. Yet he knew it was far from the truth.
"I'll be sure to thank her if we ever cross paths," Charles said, resting his head on Benjamin's lower abdomen and wrapping his arms around his waist. "She saved my lover's life."
Benjamin let out a soft chuckle, stroking Charles's golden locks. "With all my rotten luck, I don't know how I met you. Or," he teased, "perhaps meeting you is rotten luck."
"What?!" Charles feigned outrage. He rose up, pinning Benjamin to the bed. They locked eyes, the heavy conversation dissolving into heat, until they were left panting and breathless, bodies nestled together against the world.
For Benjamin, it all felt surreal, like a dream. Even when he made his rounds, the Madams all commented that he looked better, brighter, as if there was a glow about him.
For Benjamin, the days had become less bleak and the nights were something to look forward to. He loved the mornings on the terrace, watching Charles pore over court documents with a focused gaze, just like the first time they had met.
He loved being in the same vicinity, it didn't matter what they were doing — hiking, sparring, or cooking meals and eating together. They even shared their work at times, with Benjamin summarizing complex reports for Charles, and Charles trying, and failing, to help brew herbal tinctures. It was mundane, nothing extraordinary, but it felt magical.
They enjoyed each other's company, but the unspoken words hung between them. They both feared that this wouldn't last, but, neither of them acknowledged it.
The only time they ever argued was when Charles heard the words he despised coming from Benjamin's lips.
"Wren Baek."