Frozen Fate 7/?
Title: Frozen Fate
Pairing: Changmin/Junsu
Summary: Junsu is living a carefree, comfortable life in his father’s orchards, planning a big adventure. Everything changes when it is decided that the Prince of Ice will marry a son of one of the southern lords. Junsu learns that sometimes life pushes you in an unexpected direction, and fighting it only makes things worse.
Aya and Joon were still talking, discussing whether a harsh winter was something to worry about or not. Aya seemed to think it wasn’t, and Joon disagreed so fervently that he switched to Cryan to make his point. But Junsu didn’t fully register what they were saying anyway.
He was thinking that he had to get to his family, that he needed to know what was going on back home and that he would have to do anything he could to prevent Yunji and Yunho from going hungry and cold. Yunho was only three. He might not even make it through.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his bruised wrist and harshly yanked him out of his thoughts. He winced and tried to pull his arm free, twisting around to see the face of the third person in two days who tried to get his attention in this unnecessarily physical way. Somehow, they always grabbed the same wrist as well.
It was a woman this time. Her dark eyes were wide and pleading. She let go of his wrist but clasped her hands around his and spoke to him in Cryan, fast and hopeful. Junsu didn’t understand a single word of it, but before he could ask Aya to translate, she was already there, pushing the woman back into the crowd.
Aya positioned herself in front of him, holding her spear horizontally so no one could slip past her, fierce and protective. She said something too, a warning.
“Are you okay?” the voice of the Prince sounded behind him. His Sorisian really was flawless. It sounded blessedly familiar to Junsu in this sea of whispering and shouting foreigners.
That annoyed him, because at his core the Prince was a foreigner, too. Under that diplomatic empathy and the disguise of his broad royal education, he was a complete stranger.
“I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his wrist. “What was she saying?”
Joon interrupted, speaking urgently to the Prince in Cryan.
“Joon is right,” the Prince said. “We need to get back to the palace first. We’ll talk there.”
They started walking in the direction they’d come from, uphill. The crowd immediately parted for them, but Joon and Aya kept their weapons drawn this time.
The Prince placed a protective hand on his shoulder. Junsu walked a little faster to get rid of it, because shrugging it off would be too blatantly rude. He refused to be treated like some injured child that needed to be escorted back to safety.
“Why are we running away? Shouldn’t you stay and talk to your people?” he asked. “What are you afraid of? It’s not like they can blame you for a bad winter. …can they?”
He didn’t know how Cryan culture dealt with certain things, but surely an apparently beloved prince like Changmin wouldn’t be blamed for a little bad weather?
“I’m not afraid,” the Prince said in a tight voice. “They won’t deliberately hurt us. But I don’t want to be overwhelmed, especially not when I’m responsible for you.”
As if he couldn’t take care of himself. Junsu clenched his hands into fists. He refused to be babied, but this reasoning sounded sensible, and lashing out right now would only make him appear childish. The Prince was simply fulfilling his duty as a good host.
Jaejoong would surely have used an opportunity like this to draw out more of the Prince’s protective side, yes, he would be good at that. Junsu definitely wasn’t, even if he'd wanted to do that.
“But what were they saying?” he asked. “What did they want from you…from me?”
The Prince looked around before he answered. They had left the most crowded part of the city behind them and the people hadn’t followed. The palace wall was only about twenty paces in front of them now.
“You need to understand that the most important role of my family is maintaining our trading agreements with the south,” Prince Changmin said. “A harsh winter is not so much of a problem for us, my people are skilled and strong and many of them have experienced winters much further north. It’s your Kingdom they’re worried about.”
“Why?” Junsu was worried about his home too, but he didn’t understand why these ‘skilled and strong’ northerners should care.
“History has taught us that whenever there’s a harsh winter or a dry summer, or for whatever other reason your crops fail and your animals die, Soris needs time to recover, and it stops caring about the world around it. We understand that you have less riches during such times, but you are also much less willing to share them. Trade is very important to us. My people are worried that after this winter, hardly any ships will come from Soris for a year or more.”
They had arrived at one of the palace gates. A guard opened the door for them and let them through. Aya and Joon followed closely behind.
Junsu thought about what the Prince had just said. “Was that what that woman asked of me?” he said. “To make it so that Soris keeps sending ships even if it has barely enough food to feed itself? Really? …what makes her think I can do that?”
“You can’t, of course you can’t,” the Prince quickly said. “Soris can’t sell what it doesn’t have. But maybe it could sell what it does have to us rather than to others?” He sighed. “I didn’t expect this marriage alliance to be tried like this from the start. I would have been happy with just some help with the Aruni poachers. But my people will be reasonable and understanding in time. They are agitated today because the bad news is so fresh.”
Junsu abruptly stopped walking. He could feel himself start to get angry.
“That’s great,” he said. It sounded like pure sarcasm without him even trying. “They will learn to accept it, will they? Well, that’s just wonderful. Good for them.”
The Prince turned to face him, frowning. They were in a windowless hallway somewhere on the ground floor. Its walls were hung with tapestries and the entire long gloomy space was lit by only a few candles. Aya and Joon had disappeared, but they were probably standing just out of sight again, to give them that false sense of privacy. Junsu had asked Aya not to do that anymore, but maybe the Prince had different preferences, and of course those overruled his.
“Is something wrong?” the Prince asked.
Junsu glared at him. “I couldn’t care less what your people think,” he said, “or what happens to most of Soris, actually. The rich lords are usually fine, whatever happens. Even when their stores run out, they can buy food with their gold overseas in the west and east. But my father doesn’t have much gold. A decent harvest is very important to us. The King likes to eat our apples, but he’s never sent us help in difficult times. A bad winter is devastating. Even if our trees make it through, the bees might not, and then the harvest will be small the following year. My family, the people in our villages…I need to go back. Where is the ship that brought the news? When will it leave again?”
He almost set off right that instant, to grab his bag and run down to the harbour. This whole marriage thing was ridiculous anyway. This wasn’t where he belonged. But the Prince grabbed his shoulders and held him in place. “Wait. Please, calm down.”
Junsu looked up at him.
“Your family won’t starve,” the Prince said. “We could send them gold, but even if we don’t, I doubt the King of Soris and the other lords would watch them suffer ever again. This marriage would be mutually beneficial, obviously. You will become much more important to the rest of Soris than you are now, and your family with you.”
It will bring great honour to our family, Junho had said. He must have meant that in a very practical sense. Of course, Junho didn’t care about honour that much.
Junsu took a step back. He bumped into the wall, the impact cushioned by a thick tapestry.
This perfect opportunity suddenly appeared in front of him. It would mean happiness and stability for the people he loved, and take away his freedom. It tempted him and it mocked him. It was like a threat, for none of these good things would happen if he didn’t first marry the Prince.
The worry about his family he’d felt a moment ago was pushed to the background by the intensity of the emotions twisting through him now.
There were so many questions, but, after seeing the usual carefully blank expression in the Prince’s eyes, what came out of his mouth was: “You’ve…decided to marry me?” Because something told him the Prince wouldn’t have said all that if he hadn’t, but at the same time it was a ridiculous assumption to make. He needed a confirmation.
“I didn’t say…” the Prince seemed flustered for a second, but he quickly collected himself. “You sound like you don’t like that. Is that not what you want?”
Junsu looked around the hallway, as if there would be a way to escape somewhere. He wished he could sink into the wall, to become a little figure on one of those tapestries, forever hunting strange animals in the snow under a starry sky, without having to answer questions or make decisions about anything ever again.
“I don’t know what I want,” he finally said. It was the truth, for right now. This Prince who could see through lies might appreciate that, at least.
Not the denial I hoped for, was the first thing Changmin thought. The second was: but a denial would have been worse, because it would have been a lie. This is the truth.
Was this it? Was this the reason Kim Junsu’s actions the past few days had been so hard to understand? Because he didn’t yet know if he wanted to be here or not?
That came as a relief, actually. He finally had an explanation, and, indecisive minds might be changed more easily.
Changmin planned to do just that. He wanted to make this stubborn soul open up to him, to look into his brown eyes and see the warmth that he knew lay somewhere beyond, instead of continuously hitting that cold wall of disinterest in anything concerning his person.
His mother was right, as she always was. And he didn’t care, because he was ready to admit that he didn’t want anyone else.
The Prince didn’t seem angry or disappointed. Maybe he wasn’t planning on marrying him then. Well, of course not, why would he?
The disappointment Junsu felt at that thought was new. He wasn’t disappointed because he wanted to marry the Prince, but because he wanted to do what was best for his family. He lowered his eyes in shame, realising he had most likely wasted that opportunity already.
“I want to ask you something,” the Prince said.
Junsu looked up again.
“I don’t know if you were aware of this, but both your father and brother have sent us a letter,” the Prince said. “Your father only spoke good of you and your brother only bad.” He paused. “I want to know why. They can’t both have spoken the truth. It seems to me that your brother simply wanted to keep us from seriously considering you as a candidate.”
Junsu studied the Prince’s face. He didn’t have the skill to see whether people were lying or not, but he didn’t see why the Prince would make up something like this.
So Junho had sent a letter? To protect him, of course, there was no doubt about it. Junsu instantly regretted lashing out at him before he left home. He’d always known this whole thing had been their parents’ idea.
But Junho had also used his children to convince him to go…so he must have given up on defying their father when his letter hadn’t worked. Or maybe he’d betted on Junsu losing to the other two candidates instead.
Or, maybe, he’d weighed how good this marriage could be for them against Junsu’s freedom and changed his mind.
“Maybe…maybe my family also isn’t sure what they want for me,” Junsu suggested. He decided that was the best he could answer that question.
“But why would your brother not want you to marry me?” the Prince asked. “Explain that.”
This felt like a trap. Junho had done what he did to protect his little brother’s freedom, so what he wanted was what Junsu wanted himself…what Junsu had wanted before he’d known about this harsh winter, what he still selfishly wanted, deep down. That was a truth he doubted the Prince would appreciate. Junsu had to think longer about how to answer this.
“You don’t know the answer?” the Prince said when he took too long. “I understand. You might not know your brother’s reasons. But I wish he knew that there is nothing to worry about. Cryan isn’t such a scary place as many people believe, and I won’t be a bad husband. I have a reputation, but the man I marry will not suffer because of that.”
But that’s not the problem, Junsu thought.
He’d been intrigued by the Prince’s nickname, but not really worried about it. He hadn’t worried about the Prince being a bad husband either, only an excessively serious and freakishly composed one. And he could see that Cyran wasn’t altogether a bad place to live. None of these things were reasons why the thought of this marriage still made his stomach churn.
“Will you allow me to call you by your first name?” the Prince suddenly asked. He seemed to be done questioning him.
Has he asked this of Jaejoong and Yoochun? Junsu wondered. He couldn’t remember if he’d heard the Prince using their names without their titles.
“Yes,” he said, because that was the only correct answer.
The question was just a formality, really. Junsu didn’t know all the rules of etiquette in these situations, but the Prince was so much higher in rank, he could probably do whatever he wanted.
“Thank you, Junsu,” the Prince said. He smiled like Junsu had just given him the world. Junsu was actually amazed for a moment by how different it looked from his usual stoic expression.
His date with the Prince ended early.
It wasn’t because the Prince had better things to do after the bad news from the south - he’d said it could wait, as if spending time with Junsu was more important - but because Junsu said he was tired and would like to be alone. The Prince somehow accepted that.
Junsu sat in his bedroom, by the window. The sun was setting already and the temperature outside dropped quickly. He should probably get up and make a fire, or ask someone to do it for him. Aya wouldn’t be far away.
Junsu didn’t want to move at all. Today had been a whirlwind of emotions. The news of bad weather in the south was the worst, but the Prince acting like he planned to choose him had left him most confused.
He had never wanted the Prince to actually choose him, but suddenly, maybe he did.
He played with the little white fox between his fingers. He would go home and give this to Yunho, and then? Then winter would come and he would just be another mouth to feed. That was all he was good for. A bad winter also wasn't a good time to start an adventure.
Maybe, maybe he could ask Yoochun or Jaejoong for help. They weren’t the closest friends, but they had bonded somewhat over being the only Sorisians in the palace. They were both heirs and rich, and if one of them married the Prince, he would become even richer.
Surely they could spare a little gold, a little food for the land of Apples and Honey? …Junsu decided not to get his hopes up.
There was a knock on the door. He didn’t answer.
Aya let herself in shortly after she’d knocked for the second time.
“I knew you were in here,” she said. “Pretending you aren’t does not work on me.”
“Maybe I wanted to be alone,” Junsu suggested.
“Are you…sulking?” Aya asked. “I feared as much. But why? The Prince hasn’t confined you to this room only, you know. You can still go to the sitting room and talk to the others. They are anxious to hear your report of what happened today.”
Junsu sighed. Maybe it was best to just get it over with. He didn’t know how much longer he would be allowed to stay here and have the chance to talk to the others.
“What happened? How was it? How was he?” Jaejoong asked. He had jumped up from his chair when Junsu walked in, his blanket slipping down to the floor.
Yoochun sat up straight and looked at him, too. “What did you do together?”
“We went for a walk in the city." Junsu shrugged. "The Prince is all right, I guess.”
It was clear neither of them was satisfied with that answer. “What did you talk about?” Jaejoong asked, talking at the same time as Yoochun, who said: “Did you make out?”
Junsu sighed. He walked to the window, to open the blinds and let in some fresh air, but Jaejoong stopped him. “Please don’t. It’s freezing cold out there.”
“Have you heard?” Junsu said. “It’s going to be a harsh winter. In Soris, too.”
“Yes, it’s terrible,” Jaejoong said. He shivered. “But I don’t think the sea will cool down completely. It never has.”
How lucky to live on the west coast.
Yoochun shrugged. “We’ll probably live. More importantly, how far did you go with the Prince?”
Junsu didn’t think he could turn the conversation around again and properly address his worries about his home. Maybe he would get another chance later. He walked over to the fire and sat down in an empty chair.
“We didn’t do anything. What do you mean?”
“Told you,” Yoochun said to Jaejoong, leaning back in his chair. He looked and sounded very smug.
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “All day long Yoochun has been going on about how he kissed the Prince, in great detail as well. I don’t believe it actually happened, though.”
“It did,” Yoochun said. “I kissed a prince. Even if he doesn’t choose me, I’ll have that to boast about forever.”
Jaejoong gave him a completely unamused look. “That’s wonderful. Have you considered what your future husband might think of that?”
Yoochun’s smile slowly faded. He stared into the fire. “Who knows if I’ll even have a husband,” he said. Then he perked up a bit and looked at Junsu. “If the Prince picks Jaejoong, which, let’s be honest, he probably will, will you marry me?”
Junsu didn’t know what to say to that. Well, ‘no’, obviously, but he wasn’t entirely sure if Yoochun was being serious or not.
Jaejoong glared at Yoochun, then smiled at Junsu. “But if he picks Yoochun, you’ll marry me, right?”
“Let’s not…” Junsu said, “I don’t really want to marry either of you.”
“Seriously? Does that mean you won’t accept anything less than a Prince?” Yoochun asked, incredulous.
“Of course not,” Junsu said, as if. He’d never even had the slightest ambition to marry someone of royal blood.
“Then how can you say no to Jaejoong?” Yoochun asked. “Me, I understand, but Jaejoong?” He paused and raised his eyebrows. “Are you even attracted to men?”
“Stop bothering him,” Jaejoong interrupted.
Yoochun turned towards the fire again. “Fine. I’m just bored. …but who do you think the Prince will pick? Three days went by so fast. Don’t you think he will decide he needs more time?”
“I think I understand why you selected him.”
“Do you?” the Queen asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes,” Changmin said confidently. “He doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life yet. He’s indecisive even in how he feels about being here now. The other candidates you picked from all had solid future plans before this marriage came up, things that would be hard to give up on, but Junsu is young and undecided. His family members don’t know what to do with him either. Is that it? He’s a blank slate, and you think he will adapt to life here easier because of that.”
The Queen just looked at him for a while, clearly amused. Then she said: “There is no way I could have gotten all that from two contradicting letters. It was a feeling I had, nothing more.” She gave him a curious look. “But if you think he’s the one, you have my blessing.”
Changmin had felt so proud about coming up with it, it was a disappointment that his mother didn’t confirm his theory.
Maybe he still didn’t have Junsu completely figured out yet.
The Prince didn’t show himself during dinner, or after. Jaejoong and Yoochun complained about this, Junsu didn’t know how he felt. They wished each other good night and retreated to their separate rooms.
Junsu didn’t sleep well. He kept waking from dreams he couldn’t remember, but which he knew featured a lot of ice and the distant sound of Yunji screaming.
He kept himself awake for a long time, and then fell into a deep sleep when most of the night had passed already. Aya had to come into the room to wake him, explaining that nearly knocking a hole in the door hadn’t worked.
“The Prince wants to speak to you.”
“During breakfast?” Junsu asked.
“The time for breakfast has passed. He wants to see you now.”
Junsu got dressed and followed her. As his mind slowly became less fuzzy and analysed the situation, he decided this could only mean the Prince was going to announce who he’d chosen.
To his surprise, Prince Changmin was waiting for him in his sitting room alone. Jaejoong and Yoochun weren’t there.
Aya closed the door behind him.
“Good morning, Junsu,” the Prince said. “Take a seat.”
The Prince gestured to one of the chairs by the fireplace. He was standing himself, and he seemed…oddly nervous, though he concealed it well. Maybe Junsu’s observation was wrong.
The Prince calling him by his name was something Junsu would definitely have to get used to. “Good morning, my Prince,” he greeted. He walked to the chair and sat down.
“I have an important question,” the Prince said. “May I?”
Junsu nodded. He hadn’t been awake long enough yet to remember the proper polite response to that. Now that he wanted to put some effort into being nice, he realised just how easy it had been to be rude the past few days.
The Prince finally sat down in the chair in front of him.
“Do you want to marry me?” he asked.
Junsu decided he’d heard that wrong.
The Prince interpreted his silence as hesitation. “Think about it carefully,” he said. “I’ve chosen you, but I want to know what you think.”
Chosen me? Junsu was absolutely dumbfounded.
“Why?” was all he could say. “Why me?” Which was most definitely not the proper response.
Prince Changmin didn’t take offence, he simply smiled and said: “You like my kingdom. You think it’s beautiful and interesting and you want to explore and learn all about it.”
“Why would you choose someone who likes your land instead of you?” Junsu automatically slipped into his old tactic of pushing the Prince away, even though he wasn’t sure anymore if doing that was the right thing.
“It doesn’t matter that we’re not close yet, or even that you dislike me. We’ve only spent one day together. It takes time to build a relationship. But the way you look at my land tells me we will be able to build a good one. You’re not greedy for our riches, but interested in the people. You even learned to say things in our language. You’re not scared by our food or mentions of ice and dark winter days. You could be happy here. I love my Kingdom, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who doesn’t.”
It was too much to take in. Junsu still couldn’t believe this was happening, that he had somehow failed so miserably at pushing the Prince away.
“Why not Yoochun or Jaejoong?” he asked.
“I think you already know,” the Prince said. “They would never learn to care about this land the way you already do. Right after breakfast I told them that I have chosen you. They took it well.”
“But surely they are much better qualified,” Junsu protested. “And what if I refuse? You could still have chosen one of them. Why did you tell them already?”
“I won’t make them my second choice,” the Prince said. “They deserve better. If you…if you refuse me, I will wish you well and send you all home.”
“…you would?” Junsu couldn’t believe the Prince would just let them go, after all this effort was put into selecting them and inviting them here.
The Prince looked at him like he could sense his scepticism. “I know your Kingdom attaches great value to ranks and the proper way of doing things. I know you think it is perfectly normal that I get to make this final decision on my own, simply because I am of royal blood and you are not. But in Cryan we don’t believe rank is everything, even though it is important, not in the least for the communication involved in our trade with Soris.”
“You would respect my decision?” Junsu asked again.
The Prince looked at him. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I would. It is a genuine question I’m asking you. I want to know what you want. Answer me truthfully. Don’t think about your duty to your country.”
Junsu couldn’t care less about his duty to Soris. Instead, he thought about Yunji and Yunho going hungry, about being home with them but unable to do anything about it, being the useless uncle, fun but irresponsible, a bad example, too. All his life he’d been a spoiled, selfish little brother to Junho, and yet Junho had fought for his freedom.
“Junsu?” the Prince said. It sounded uncertain.
Junsu’s throat went dry. “Repeat the question,” he whispered.
Prince Changmin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, an intensity of emotion Junsu had only seen once before was back. This time it wasn’t hurt, but hope which dominated.
“Do you want to marry me?”
“Yes,” Junsu lied.
NEXT
Previous
Pairing: Changmin/Junsu
Summary: Junsu is living a carefree, comfortable life in his father’s orchards, planning a big adventure. Everything changes when it is decided that the Prince of Ice will marry a son of one of the southern lords. Junsu learns that sometimes life pushes you in an unexpected direction, and fighting it only makes things worse.
Aya and Joon were still talking, discussing whether a harsh winter was something to worry about or not. Aya seemed to think it wasn’t, and Joon disagreed so fervently that he switched to Cryan to make his point. But Junsu didn’t fully register what they were saying anyway.
He was thinking that he had to get to his family, that he needed to know what was going on back home and that he would have to do anything he could to prevent Yunji and Yunho from going hungry and cold. Yunho was only three. He might not even make it through.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his bruised wrist and harshly yanked him out of his thoughts. He winced and tried to pull his arm free, twisting around to see the face of the third person in two days who tried to get his attention in this unnecessarily physical way. Somehow, they always grabbed the same wrist as well.
It was a woman this time. Her dark eyes were wide and pleading. She let go of his wrist but clasped her hands around his and spoke to him in Cryan, fast and hopeful. Junsu didn’t understand a single word of it, but before he could ask Aya to translate, she was already there, pushing the woman back into the crowd.
Aya positioned herself in front of him, holding her spear horizontally so no one could slip past her, fierce and protective. She said something too, a warning.
“Are you okay?” the voice of the Prince sounded behind him. His Sorisian really was flawless. It sounded blessedly familiar to Junsu in this sea of whispering and shouting foreigners.
That annoyed him, because at his core the Prince was a foreigner, too. Under that diplomatic empathy and the disguise of his broad royal education, he was a complete stranger.
“I’m fine,” he said, rubbing his wrist. “What was she saying?”
Joon interrupted, speaking urgently to the Prince in Cryan.
“Joon is right,” the Prince said. “We need to get back to the palace first. We’ll talk there.”
They started walking in the direction they’d come from, uphill. The crowd immediately parted for them, but Joon and Aya kept their weapons drawn this time.
The Prince placed a protective hand on his shoulder. Junsu walked a little faster to get rid of it, because shrugging it off would be too blatantly rude. He refused to be treated like some injured child that needed to be escorted back to safety.
“Why are we running away? Shouldn’t you stay and talk to your people?” he asked. “What are you afraid of? It’s not like they can blame you for a bad winter. …can they?”
He didn’t know how Cryan culture dealt with certain things, but surely an apparently beloved prince like Changmin wouldn’t be blamed for a little bad weather?
“I’m not afraid,” the Prince said in a tight voice. “They won’t deliberately hurt us. But I don’t want to be overwhelmed, especially not when I’m responsible for you.”
As if he couldn’t take care of himself. Junsu clenched his hands into fists. He refused to be babied, but this reasoning sounded sensible, and lashing out right now would only make him appear childish. The Prince was simply fulfilling his duty as a good host.
Jaejoong would surely have used an opportunity like this to draw out more of the Prince’s protective side, yes, he would be good at that. Junsu definitely wasn’t, even if he'd wanted to do that.
“But what were they saying?” he asked. “What did they want from you…from me?”
The Prince looked around before he answered. They had left the most crowded part of the city behind them and the people hadn’t followed. The palace wall was only about twenty paces in front of them now.
“You need to understand that the most important role of my family is maintaining our trading agreements with the south,” Prince Changmin said. “A harsh winter is not so much of a problem for us, my people are skilled and strong and many of them have experienced winters much further north. It’s your Kingdom they’re worried about.”
“Why?” Junsu was worried about his home too, but he didn’t understand why these ‘skilled and strong’ northerners should care.
“History has taught us that whenever there’s a harsh winter or a dry summer, or for whatever other reason your crops fail and your animals die, Soris needs time to recover, and it stops caring about the world around it. We understand that you have less riches during such times, but you are also much less willing to share them. Trade is very important to us. My people are worried that after this winter, hardly any ships will come from Soris for a year or more.”
They had arrived at one of the palace gates. A guard opened the door for them and let them through. Aya and Joon followed closely behind.
Junsu thought about what the Prince had just said. “Was that what that woman asked of me?” he said. “To make it so that Soris keeps sending ships even if it has barely enough food to feed itself? Really? …what makes her think I can do that?”
“You can’t, of course you can’t,” the Prince quickly said. “Soris can’t sell what it doesn’t have. But maybe it could sell what it does have to us rather than to others?” He sighed. “I didn’t expect this marriage alliance to be tried like this from the start. I would have been happy with just some help with the Aruni poachers. But my people will be reasonable and understanding in time. They are agitated today because the bad news is so fresh.”
Junsu abruptly stopped walking. He could feel himself start to get angry.
“That’s great,” he said. It sounded like pure sarcasm without him even trying. “They will learn to accept it, will they? Well, that’s just wonderful. Good for them.”
The Prince turned to face him, frowning. They were in a windowless hallway somewhere on the ground floor. Its walls were hung with tapestries and the entire long gloomy space was lit by only a few candles. Aya and Joon had disappeared, but they were probably standing just out of sight again, to give them that false sense of privacy. Junsu had asked Aya not to do that anymore, but maybe the Prince had different preferences, and of course those overruled his.
“Is something wrong?” the Prince asked.
Junsu glared at him. “I couldn’t care less what your people think,” he said, “or what happens to most of Soris, actually. The rich lords are usually fine, whatever happens. Even when their stores run out, they can buy food with their gold overseas in the west and east. But my father doesn’t have much gold. A decent harvest is very important to us. The King likes to eat our apples, but he’s never sent us help in difficult times. A bad winter is devastating. Even if our trees make it through, the bees might not, and then the harvest will be small the following year. My family, the people in our villages…I need to go back. Where is the ship that brought the news? When will it leave again?”
He almost set off right that instant, to grab his bag and run down to the harbour. This whole marriage thing was ridiculous anyway. This wasn’t where he belonged. But the Prince grabbed his shoulders and held him in place. “Wait. Please, calm down.”
Junsu looked up at him.
“Your family won’t starve,” the Prince said. “We could send them gold, but even if we don’t, I doubt the King of Soris and the other lords would watch them suffer ever again. This marriage would be mutually beneficial, obviously. You will become much more important to the rest of Soris than you are now, and your family with you.”
It will bring great honour to our family, Junho had said. He must have meant that in a very practical sense. Of course, Junho didn’t care about honour that much.
Junsu took a step back. He bumped into the wall, the impact cushioned by a thick tapestry.
This perfect opportunity suddenly appeared in front of him. It would mean happiness and stability for the people he loved, and take away his freedom. It tempted him and it mocked him. It was like a threat, for none of these good things would happen if he didn’t first marry the Prince.
The worry about his family he’d felt a moment ago was pushed to the background by the intensity of the emotions twisting through him now.
There were so many questions, but, after seeing the usual carefully blank expression in the Prince’s eyes, what came out of his mouth was: “You’ve…decided to marry me?” Because something told him the Prince wouldn’t have said all that if he hadn’t, but at the same time it was a ridiculous assumption to make. He needed a confirmation.
“I didn’t say…” the Prince seemed flustered for a second, but he quickly collected himself. “You sound like you don’t like that. Is that not what you want?”
Junsu looked around the hallway, as if there would be a way to escape somewhere. He wished he could sink into the wall, to become a little figure on one of those tapestries, forever hunting strange animals in the snow under a starry sky, without having to answer questions or make decisions about anything ever again.
“I don’t know what I want,” he finally said. It was the truth, for right now. This Prince who could see through lies might appreciate that, at least.
Not the denial I hoped for, was the first thing Changmin thought. The second was: but a denial would have been worse, because it would have been a lie. This is the truth.
Was this it? Was this the reason Kim Junsu’s actions the past few days had been so hard to understand? Because he didn’t yet know if he wanted to be here or not?
That came as a relief, actually. He finally had an explanation, and, indecisive minds might be changed more easily.
Changmin planned to do just that. He wanted to make this stubborn soul open up to him, to look into his brown eyes and see the warmth that he knew lay somewhere beyond, instead of continuously hitting that cold wall of disinterest in anything concerning his person.
His mother was right, as she always was. And he didn’t care, because he was ready to admit that he didn’t want anyone else.
The Prince didn’t seem angry or disappointed. Maybe he wasn’t planning on marrying him then. Well, of course not, why would he?
The disappointment Junsu felt at that thought was new. He wasn’t disappointed because he wanted to marry the Prince, but because he wanted to do what was best for his family. He lowered his eyes in shame, realising he had most likely wasted that opportunity already.
“I want to ask you something,” the Prince said.
Junsu looked up again.
“I don’t know if you were aware of this, but both your father and brother have sent us a letter,” the Prince said. “Your father only spoke good of you and your brother only bad.” He paused. “I want to know why. They can’t both have spoken the truth. It seems to me that your brother simply wanted to keep us from seriously considering you as a candidate.”
Junsu studied the Prince’s face. He didn’t have the skill to see whether people were lying or not, but he didn’t see why the Prince would make up something like this.
So Junho had sent a letter? To protect him, of course, there was no doubt about it. Junsu instantly regretted lashing out at him before he left home. He’d always known this whole thing had been their parents’ idea.
But Junho had also used his children to convince him to go…so he must have given up on defying their father when his letter hadn’t worked. Or maybe he’d betted on Junsu losing to the other two candidates instead.
Or, maybe, he’d weighed how good this marriage could be for them against Junsu’s freedom and changed his mind.
“Maybe…maybe my family also isn’t sure what they want for me,” Junsu suggested. He decided that was the best he could answer that question.
“But why would your brother not want you to marry me?” the Prince asked. “Explain that.”
This felt like a trap. Junho had done what he did to protect his little brother’s freedom, so what he wanted was what Junsu wanted himself…what Junsu had wanted before he’d known about this harsh winter, what he still selfishly wanted, deep down. That was a truth he doubted the Prince would appreciate. Junsu had to think longer about how to answer this.
“You don’t know the answer?” the Prince said when he took too long. “I understand. You might not know your brother’s reasons. But I wish he knew that there is nothing to worry about. Cryan isn’t such a scary place as many people believe, and I won’t be a bad husband. I have a reputation, but the man I marry will not suffer because of that.”
But that’s not the problem, Junsu thought.
He’d been intrigued by the Prince’s nickname, but not really worried about it. He hadn’t worried about the Prince being a bad husband either, only an excessively serious and freakishly composed one. And he could see that Cyran wasn’t altogether a bad place to live. None of these things were reasons why the thought of this marriage still made his stomach churn.
“Will you allow me to call you by your first name?” the Prince suddenly asked. He seemed to be done questioning him.
Has he asked this of Jaejoong and Yoochun? Junsu wondered. He couldn’t remember if he’d heard the Prince using their names without their titles.
“Yes,” he said, because that was the only correct answer.
The question was just a formality, really. Junsu didn’t know all the rules of etiquette in these situations, but the Prince was so much higher in rank, he could probably do whatever he wanted.
“Thank you, Junsu,” the Prince said. He smiled like Junsu had just given him the world. Junsu was actually amazed for a moment by how different it looked from his usual stoic expression.
His date with the Prince ended early.
It wasn’t because the Prince had better things to do after the bad news from the south - he’d said it could wait, as if spending time with Junsu was more important - but because Junsu said he was tired and would like to be alone. The Prince somehow accepted that.
Junsu sat in his bedroom, by the window. The sun was setting already and the temperature outside dropped quickly. He should probably get up and make a fire, or ask someone to do it for him. Aya wouldn’t be far away.
Junsu didn’t want to move at all. Today had been a whirlwind of emotions. The news of bad weather in the south was the worst, but the Prince acting like he planned to choose him had left him most confused.
He had never wanted the Prince to actually choose him, but suddenly, maybe he did.
He played with the little white fox between his fingers. He would go home and give this to Yunho, and then? Then winter would come and he would just be another mouth to feed. That was all he was good for. A bad winter also wasn't a good time to start an adventure.
Maybe, maybe he could ask Yoochun or Jaejoong for help. They weren’t the closest friends, but they had bonded somewhat over being the only Sorisians in the palace. They were both heirs and rich, and if one of them married the Prince, he would become even richer.
Surely they could spare a little gold, a little food for the land of Apples and Honey? …Junsu decided not to get his hopes up.
There was a knock on the door. He didn’t answer.
Aya let herself in shortly after she’d knocked for the second time.
“I knew you were in here,” she said. “Pretending you aren’t does not work on me.”
“Maybe I wanted to be alone,” Junsu suggested.
“Are you…sulking?” Aya asked. “I feared as much. But why? The Prince hasn’t confined you to this room only, you know. You can still go to the sitting room and talk to the others. They are anxious to hear your report of what happened today.”
Junsu sighed. Maybe it was best to just get it over with. He didn’t know how much longer he would be allowed to stay here and have the chance to talk to the others.
“What happened? How was it? How was he?” Jaejoong asked. He had jumped up from his chair when Junsu walked in, his blanket slipping down to the floor.
Yoochun sat up straight and looked at him, too. “What did you do together?”
“We went for a walk in the city." Junsu shrugged. "The Prince is all right, I guess.”
It was clear neither of them was satisfied with that answer. “What did you talk about?” Jaejoong asked, talking at the same time as Yoochun, who said: “Did you make out?”
Junsu sighed. He walked to the window, to open the blinds and let in some fresh air, but Jaejoong stopped him. “Please don’t. It’s freezing cold out there.”
“Have you heard?” Junsu said. “It’s going to be a harsh winter. In Soris, too.”
“Yes, it’s terrible,” Jaejoong said. He shivered. “But I don’t think the sea will cool down completely. It never has.”
How lucky to live on the west coast.
Yoochun shrugged. “We’ll probably live. More importantly, how far did you go with the Prince?”
Junsu didn’t think he could turn the conversation around again and properly address his worries about his home. Maybe he would get another chance later. He walked over to the fire and sat down in an empty chair.
“We didn’t do anything. What do you mean?”
“Told you,” Yoochun said to Jaejoong, leaning back in his chair. He looked and sounded very smug.
Jaejoong rolled his eyes. “All day long Yoochun has been going on about how he kissed the Prince, in great detail as well. I don’t believe it actually happened, though.”
“It did,” Yoochun said. “I kissed a prince. Even if he doesn’t choose me, I’ll have that to boast about forever.”
Jaejoong gave him a completely unamused look. “That’s wonderful. Have you considered what your future husband might think of that?”
Yoochun’s smile slowly faded. He stared into the fire. “Who knows if I’ll even have a husband,” he said. Then he perked up a bit and looked at Junsu. “If the Prince picks Jaejoong, which, let’s be honest, he probably will, will you marry me?”
Junsu didn’t know what to say to that. Well, ‘no’, obviously, but he wasn’t entirely sure if Yoochun was being serious or not.
Jaejoong glared at Yoochun, then smiled at Junsu. “But if he picks Yoochun, you’ll marry me, right?”
“Let’s not…” Junsu said, “I don’t really want to marry either of you.”
“Seriously? Does that mean you won’t accept anything less than a Prince?” Yoochun asked, incredulous.
“Of course not,” Junsu said, as if. He’d never even had the slightest ambition to marry someone of royal blood.
“Then how can you say no to Jaejoong?” Yoochun asked. “Me, I understand, but Jaejoong?” He paused and raised his eyebrows. “Are you even attracted to men?”
“Stop bothering him,” Jaejoong interrupted.
Yoochun turned towards the fire again. “Fine. I’m just bored. …but who do you think the Prince will pick? Three days went by so fast. Don’t you think he will decide he needs more time?”
“I think I understand why you selected him.”
“Do you?” the Queen asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Yes,” Changmin said confidently. “He doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life yet. He’s indecisive even in how he feels about being here now. The other candidates you picked from all had solid future plans before this marriage came up, things that would be hard to give up on, but Junsu is young and undecided. His family members don’t know what to do with him either. Is that it? He’s a blank slate, and you think he will adapt to life here easier because of that.”
The Queen just looked at him for a while, clearly amused. Then she said: “There is no way I could have gotten all that from two contradicting letters. It was a feeling I had, nothing more.” She gave him a curious look. “But if you think he’s the one, you have my blessing.”
Changmin had felt so proud about coming up with it, it was a disappointment that his mother didn’t confirm his theory.
Maybe he still didn’t have Junsu completely figured out yet.
The Prince didn’t show himself during dinner, or after. Jaejoong and Yoochun complained about this, Junsu didn’t know how he felt. They wished each other good night and retreated to their separate rooms.
Junsu didn’t sleep well. He kept waking from dreams he couldn’t remember, but which he knew featured a lot of ice and the distant sound of Yunji screaming.
He kept himself awake for a long time, and then fell into a deep sleep when most of the night had passed already. Aya had to come into the room to wake him, explaining that nearly knocking a hole in the door hadn’t worked.
“The Prince wants to speak to you.”
“During breakfast?” Junsu asked.
“The time for breakfast has passed. He wants to see you now.”
Junsu got dressed and followed her. As his mind slowly became less fuzzy and analysed the situation, he decided this could only mean the Prince was going to announce who he’d chosen.
To his surprise, Prince Changmin was waiting for him in his sitting room alone. Jaejoong and Yoochun weren’t there.
Aya closed the door behind him.
“Good morning, Junsu,” the Prince said. “Take a seat.”
The Prince gestured to one of the chairs by the fireplace. He was standing himself, and he seemed…oddly nervous, though he concealed it well. Maybe Junsu’s observation was wrong.
The Prince calling him by his name was something Junsu would definitely have to get used to. “Good morning, my Prince,” he greeted. He walked to the chair and sat down.
“I have an important question,” the Prince said. “May I?”
Junsu nodded. He hadn’t been awake long enough yet to remember the proper polite response to that. Now that he wanted to put some effort into being nice, he realised just how easy it had been to be rude the past few days.
The Prince finally sat down in the chair in front of him.
“Do you want to marry me?” he asked.
Junsu decided he’d heard that wrong.
The Prince interpreted his silence as hesitation. “Think about it carefully,” he said. “I’ve chosen you, but I want to know what you think.”
Chosen me? Junsu was absolutely dumbfounded.
“Why?” was all he could say. “Why me?” Which was most definitely not the proper response.
Prince Changmin didn’t take offence, he simply smiled and said: “You like my kingdom. You think it’s beautiful and interesting and you want to explore and learn all about it.”
“Why would you choose someone who likes your land instead of you?” Junsu automatically slipped into his old tactic of pushing the Prince away, even though he wasn’t sure anymore if doing that was the right thing.
“It doesn’t matter that we’re not close yet, or even that you dislike me. We’ve only spent one day together. It takes time to build a relationship. But the way you look at my land tells me we will be able to build a good one. You’re not greedy for our riches, but interested in the people. You even learned to say things in our language. You’re not scared by our food or mentions of ice and dark winter days. You could be happy here. I love my Kingdom, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my life with someone who doesn’t.”
It was too much to take in. Junsu still couldn’t believe this was happening, that he had somehow failed so miserably at pushing the Prince away.
“Why not Yoochun or Jaejoong?” he asked.
“I think you already know,” the Prince said. “They would never learn to care about this land the way you already do. Right after breakfast I told them that I have chosen you. They took it well.”
“But surely they are much better qualified,” Junsu protested. “And what if I refuse? You could still have chosen one of them. Why did you tell them already?”
“I won’t make them my second choice,” the Prince said. “They deserve better. If you…if you refuse me, I will wish you well and send you all home.”
“…you would?” Junsu couldn’t believe the Prince would just let them go, after all this effort was put into selecting them and inviting them here.
The Prince looked at him like he could sense his scepticism. “I know your Kingdom attaches great value to ranks and the proper way of doing things. I know you think it is perfectly normal that I get to make this final decision on my own, simply because I am of royal blood and you are not. But in Cryan we don’t believe rank is everything, even though it is important, not in the least for the communication involved in our trade with Soris.”
“You would respect my decision?” Junsu asked again.
The Prince looked at him. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I would. It is a genuine question I’m asking you. I want to know what you want. Answer me truthfully. Don’t think about your duty to your country.”
Junsu couldn’t care less about his duty to Soris. Instead, he thought about Yunji and Yunho going hungry, about being home with them but unable to do anything about it, being the useless uncle, fun but irresponsible, a bad example, too. All his life he’d been a spoiled, selfish little brother to Junho, and yet Junho had fought for his freedom.
“Junsu?” the Prince said. It sounded uncertain.
Junsu’s throat went dry. “Repeat the question,” he whispered.
Prince Changmin took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, an intensity of emotion Junsu had only seen once before was back. This time it wasn’t hurt, but hope which dominated.
“Do you want to marry me?”
“Yes,” Junsu lied.
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