Fantasia in Greensleeves (2 of 1/?)
( previous )
The remainder of the day was spent in the mansion. Back at the hotel, Minseok was quick to notice that the king (and Kyungsoo) were getting bored. There was nothing substantial happening as they kept shallow conversations with the businessmen. Also, Minseok shaking his head thirty minutes at the king after the meeting had begun meant one thing-he found no suitable candidate. And so they didn't bother spending a few more minutes of extension. Minseok dropped a white lie-that the king felt exhausted already, although that was partially true-and with a few closing remarks, the king's party was back inside the coaches.
"They don't really need our presence there anyway," Junmyeon spoke with an amount of sarcasm Kyungsoo had heard for the first time. He couldn't help but laugh.
"What?" Junmyeon exclaimed. "It's true anyway."
"Of course," Kyungsoo answered.
The king went back to his room and Kyungsoo excused himself into the den. He wasn't hungry. The lunch at the hotel wasn't really good but it was enough to keep his stomach filled. He knew Junmyeon would ask for something more pleasant later and so he made sure the cooks were doing good while he rested in his private place.
He slouched for a while, head thrown back so his nape rested on the low armchairs. This was a favorite alternative to bed, especially when time would not allow for a nap. It felt comfortable. He breathed in a relaxed pace, feeling his tensed muscles slowly unknot.
A little uneasy with the silence, as soon as he felt better, he stood up and went towards the phonograph just next to a drawer at the corner of the room. It looked foreign after being away the whole morning, with its flaring bell-like horn and wide turntable, although it had been there for a time Kyungsoo can no longer remember. He scrambled for a disc below where it stood and found the right music he thought would put him more at ease. Soon, the sound of soft orchestra filled the room, engulfing Kyungsoo in his own world. He hummed as he went back to his seat, the music bringing back to his throat the notes he was once familiar with.
It was halfway a stanza when the door creaked. It was slow but loud enough to interrupt Kyungsoo's reverie. The person appeared-Junmyeon, the king, standing by the door, eyes on Kyungsoo as if he had been there for a while, watching.
"I didn't mean to interrupt. I'm sorry," Junmyeon said as soon as Kyungsoo threw him wide eyes, standing up.
"Your Majesty! No, no. It's fine," Kyungsoo straightened the creases on his clothes. "I thought I had the door locked so I was surprised."
Junmyeon shook his head. "No, accept my apologies. I may be the king but I am not infallible."
The only thing Kyungsoo could do was nod and smile. He ushered Junmyeon inside and let him sit on the chair where Kyungsoo slouched earlier. "Is there anything that I can help you with, sir?"
"Nothing really. I just heard music playing when I went down so I peeked. I should have known that it was you," Junmyeon confessed.
"It's alright," Kyungsoo reassured the king. "Were you able to rest?"
"I think I did." The music kept playing on the background and Junmyeon stood up from his seat. "I couldn't sleep. My body clock tells me it's too early."
Nobody spoke afterwards as the music grew louder, the soft violin suddenly escalating to a mixture of stronger instruments, climaxing to a roll of drums and clash of cymbals. Junmyeon bobbed his head to the slow rhythm, fingers tapping the side of his thigh. The sound gradually decreased force and it was smooth once again.
"Waltz. European music," he said. "Say, Lord Kyungsoo. Do you dance waltz?"
Kyungsoo blinked. If there was one question he never wanted to hear, it was anything about dance. Not that he was so bad at it but he had long admitted to himself that dancing was never going to be his forte. And waltz? He could only laugh, one that was too awkward Junmyeon could quickly sense anxiety.
"I take that as you don't." Junmyeon smiled
"I'm not good at dancing, sir."
All of a sudden, Junmyeon extended his arm, fingers closed but palm open, offering it to Kyungsoo who had his brows raised in surprise. He knew what that meant and the tick of the clock rang in his head louder than the music. The king wasn’t taking his excuse.
They were going to dance.
"Let me teach you. I have recently discovered the waltz and I thought it was wonderful," Junmyeon said, knees bent and his arm still stretched, waiting for Kyungsoo to receive it.
"But Your Majesty," Kyungsoo looked at the door. It was closed. Then the windows. The curtains covered them. "I'm not sure..."
Junmyeon showed no sign of pulling his arm back. He waited for seconds, patiently until Kyungsoo, out of pressure, put his hand on the open palm albeit hesitantly.
"This is going to be embarrassing," Kyungsoo muttered. Junmyeon ignored the earl's words as he raised their arms eye-height to their side while his other free arm reached for Kyungsoo's back, pulling him closer. He chuckled when Kyungsoo yelped.
"Put your other hand on my shoulder," Junmyeon said.
Kyungsoo did as he was told but his head had gotten fuzzy he wasn't sure if he had been hearing things right. The music was now a blur in his ears while his heart thumped faster than the drums that played. Never had he thought that he could be in this close proximity with the king. To hold his hand was even far than he had ever dreamed about. He never imagined for this to happen.
"Are you alright?" Junmyeon asked and Kyungsoo nodded. He was too nervous and embarrassed to say no.
"That foot goes first, then this,” pointing at Kyungsoo’s left foot then the right. “Then we move in three counts." When Junmyeon began to slide, Kyungsoo wasn’t ready. He got dragged that he almost tripped. Thankfully, he managed to land on a proper foot before he could even fall. Junmyeon counted once again, striding, stepping, then turning around. It carried on but out of the music's tempo.
Sometimes Kyungsoo would step on Junmyeon's foot and he would feel guilty. But the latter would not seem to mind. He would dismiss it with a quick "Don't" or "It's okay. You'll get the hang of it." The words were usually mumbled. In their closeness, he didn't find the need to speak loud and Kyungsoo wasn't sure what exactly too feel when they were this close.
Soon they matched the music, and Kyungsoo no longer stepped on Junmyeon's toes. His motions became light and his body swayed to the rhythm. He couldn't help but smile, his eyes watching the seemingly synchronized movement of their legs. It was fulfilling and amusing.
When he raised his head, Kyungsoo's heart almost stopped. Junmyeon’s face was close. He was looking at Kyungsoo, in his eyes, and their gazes were locked on each other. The king’s eyes were beautiful and Kyungsoo was lost in them. He was zoning out as if the music was suddenly being pulled out slowly away from their ears. The counting had stopped but their bodies kept moving. Muscle memory kept them in measure.
Junmyeon smiled and for once Kyungsoo had seen contentment. A funny twirl filled his chest. He knew this was his heart speaking to him, the feelings he had always kept, close to breaking out of its cage. Before he could carelessly act on them, Kyungsoo held his breath and snapped out of concentration. They were in the middle of a turn so he tripped.
He didn't fall. Junmyeon kept a tight hold of Kyungsoo's hand, the other sliding down the latter's waist so that he would not drop to the floor. Knowing it might end up with Junmyeon’s arm wound around his waist, a position he felt would be too awkward to take, Kyungsoo released his hand and took a step back so he could use his other leg to stand up but away from Junmyeon. The closeness of their body was more than enough for him to feel a tinge of funny but not in a bad way chill crawl up his spine. He pulled away.
"I'm sorry," Kyungsoo felt his face become warm. He couldn’t see it but he knew was turning red.
The music had already stopped. Junmyeon remained silent, still staring at Kyungsoo.
"Th-thank you, Your Majesty," Kyungsoo rambled. His brain had gone haywire and he wasn't exactly sure what to do to keep an awkward silence from befalling on them.
Junmyeon nodded, lips pulling to an amused smile. "You learn fast,” he sounded calm and composed.
"My parents said I do.”
"I guess they were right. I hope you enjoyed our...short dance lesson," Junmyeon said in a playful tone. He bowed his head, just like how one would at the end of a dance. Kyungsoo followed.
"I'll see you at dinner?"
"Yes. Sir.”
Junmyeon turned around and left the den. When the lock clicked, Kyungsoo threw himself on the armchair in an extremely inelegant plop. His hands covered his face, slapping his cheeks that they almost hurt as he spewed unintelligible words out of his mouth.
The next day, as early as five in the morning, Kyungsoo was already preoccupied. It wouldn't be until four hours later that the king's estate tour would happen which meant that Kyungsoo still had enough time to check, if not supervise, its preparations. He planned to bring them to the gardens, the temple a few blocks behind the mansion, and the parkland adorned with fancy follies. They would end at the high gardens, the one that spread in the highest peak of the estate, where he ordered for picnic food to be served.
And so they did. Riding on horses, Kyungsoo led the king and his men around the estate, briefly pausing at the temple for prayers before carrying on until they reach the high gardens. There, three tents were set up, two for the guests and one for the maids who served the food.
As soon as they arrived, Kyungsoo busied himself introducing the high gardens, talking about how it was supposed to be the temple, and that it came only into being after his great grandfather. The cool breeze, gentle despite being at the highest point of the estate, was soft and soothing. It smelled of daffodils and snowdrops, blanketing a supposed green space with beautiful colors of spring.
There was no formality in the event. Food would come and go as long as the guests wished for something to munch on. Meanwhile, Kyungsoo, the hands-on person that he was, would regularly find himself inside the maids' tent. As he checked the wine to be served, Minseok suddenly came inside. Kyungsoo excused himself, carefully setting a bottle on a table.
"What is it Your Grace?" Kyungsoo asked as they walked out, guiding the Royal Adviser away from the tent and under the shade of a young beech tree.
"Uh... there is something His Majesty wishes to tell you," Minseok began, his voice hushed though they're yards away from the nearest human being.
Kyungsoo fidgets, brows raised in both curiosity and excitement. He didn't ask and Minseok knew that Kyungsoo's silence meant the same thing.
"The king has told me," Minseok cleared his throat. "Well, has he told you about the Parade?"
Kyungsoo wasn't sure of what to make out of that question. There wasn't a hint of threat or dismay in Minseok's tone but for some reason, Kyungsoo felt like he was being caught red-handed for knowing something he shouldn't have. He nodded, wishing it was safer than a vocal answer.
"I see," Minseok hummed. There was a three-second pause which Kyungsoo felt like the longest three seconds of that moment. Then Minseok parted his lips, silent for a second before letting out a sigh. "The king wanted you to go to the Parade."
"I...I will cook for the king?" The question left Kyungsoo's mouth before he could think through it.
"No. No, no," Minseok shook his head fervently. "What the king meant is that he wanted you to go to the Parade as a candidate. You know, prospective consort."
Kyungsoo blinked, attempting to make words come out of his already open mouth. A hand was on his chest, tapping it gently still unsure of what he heard. He laughed, looking above him which he took only as an excuse to properly absorb the situation.
"He wanted me to go as a potential consort?"
Minseok gave a silent nod, no words, but a soft, gentle smile on his face.
"Is...hold on," Kyungsoo put both hands on his waist, slowly nodding to himself before looking at Minseok straight in the eye. "Is His Majesty sure about this?"
"Yes," Minseok answered promptly. "I don't expect any response right now. Well, the king does but he understands that you might have reservations. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning at ten. You know already that. I hope I can hear from you before we leave."
Kyungsoo, still flabbergasted, just nodded in response. Minseok, just as he normally would, apologized and excused himself, leaving a confused Kyungsoo under the tree shade. It was only until Minseok was gone that Kyungsoo felt his stomach twist. At least he wasn't going to throw up but the churns in it was enough to cause a funny burn swell right below his chest. His heart pumped faster, a silly ache creeping up his head.
"This isn't happening, isn't it?" He told himself, inhaling a good amount of air although his nasal cavity almost froze at the chill. He sighed, loud and strong, before fixing his clothes, straightening the creases that formed on his sleeves. The wine bottles were waiting.
There was nothing extraordinary-if not awkward-during dinner. Although Kyungsoo had to sit next to Junmyeon, both were good to act just as normally as they could. There were a lot of jokes, laughter, songs, and wine. It was the last night of the king's visit anyway and the king was just happy to let a huge chunk of formality be gone.
The night ended late. Kyungsoo could feel exhaustion seep through his bones that when the king finally went up to his room, he just plopped on one of the saloon's armchair, its cushion feeling just as equally comforting as his bed. As he was about to doze off, he heard somebody come down from upstairs and he saw Minseok, mouthing an "Ah!" when he saw Kyungsoo.
"Yes, Your Grace," Kyungsoo greeted even before Minseok could fully alight the staircase.
"I just wanted to apologize. About earlier," Minseok began. He bowed his head for a bit.
"No, no. It was totally fine, sir," Kyungsoo shook his head.
"I seemed to have gotten you disoriented right after we spoke."
Kyungsoo bit his lower lip quick, suppressing a smile he didn’t really expect he would do. "Well, it was quite a shocker, if I may be honest." He extended his arm, offering the armchair opposite him. But Minseok raised his hand, politely declining. This was going to be a short conversation.
"Thank you. Well, actually it's...again, something about the Parade that's why I came down," Minseok continued and Kyungsoo's heart dropped again. "I thought you ought to know."
"As you probably already are aware of, Jeonju is the last part of our search. For the candidates, you know," Kyungsoo remained silent. His knees were giving up on him but he remained straight and calm.
"This is not to pressure you, Lord Kyungsoo, but His Majesty had never requested any lord or lady to go to the Parade until our visit here." Minseok's words sent a chill down Kyungoo's spine. Just as he thought he was just one of the many, he was proven wrong. "I am not entirely sure why he has done such for the first-and probably last-time but I have...speculations."
"I understand, sir," Kyungsoo mumbled. Speculations. The word struck hard on his chest.
Minseok put a hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder, light with gentle pats. "If you're going to decline and you're worrying about consequences, fret not. The worst thing to happen is the king's disappointment. No punishment, I assure you."
"Thank you," Kyungsoo said, smiling. His heart swelled at Minseok's concern and kindness and though deciding about the Parade loomed closer to him, he couldn't help but be genuinely appreciative of Minseok's efforts. It must be hard on him working on the Parade as much as it was for the king. "I will give you my decision first thing in the morning."
"I would highly appreciate it. Now, kindly excuse me. I shall be off to bed now," Minseok said and went back upstairs.
Kyungsoo sighed, releasing the top buttons of his shirt before dropping back to the armchair with a groan. Fingers massaging his forehead, he chuckled to himself. He wasn't dreaming, although his body felt light. It probably was the comfort of his slouch.
When surprises come and timetables were broken, Kyungsoo knew what exactly to do. He was quick to think of alternatives, or to fix things to get them orderly again. But tonight, it was different. This was out of his expectations and though he knew the answer-deep in his heart he already had an answer-he wasn't sure if this was going to work out well for him. He closed his eyes.
He wished it would.
Minseok was the first to greet Kyungsoo as soon as he got out of his room in proper dress. The king and his party would be leaving in a few minutes but more than that, aside from the coaches, it was Kyungsoo’s decision that the Royal Adviser was waiting.
“So, have you thought about it well?” He wasn’t acting in any haste but his words had it all.
Kyungsoo could only bob his head a little gently, unsure with no escape. From the saloon’s open doors, where the front garden was visible, horseshoes tapped the rough ground. The wheels crushing pebbles suddenly sounded loud.
“And?”
"Well, I thought about it and realized... I would honestly be broken to see the king disappointed." If there is something wonderful about being contextual, it's the way Kyungsoo could craft words so that he could be romantically subtle. Later he would realize it was pretty pointless.
Minseok's anxiety dissolved into a smile. "So that means I would be sending you an official invitation to the Parade?"
"I would be glad to see it on my desk, sir," Kyungsoo smiled back.
When Junmyeon suddenly appeared next to Minseok, his heart flipped just as his stomach somersaulted. The king wore a blue, silky gwanbok, one that almost looked the same as Minseok's teal clothes, still regal but less stunning. It was unexpected but the king would be on a journey for a day so it would be practical to wear something comfortable and less imposing.
"Am I smelling good news?" Junmyeon asked, his smile gentle but the quirk of his brows spelled curiosity.
The two bowed in an instant. Minseok spoke. "Your Majesty, Lord Kyungsoo has accepted your invitation to the Parade. I will be preparing the official notice as soon as we reach Hanseong."
"I guess we'll be meeting again. I'm looking forward to it," Junmyeon said. It was anticlimactic, at least on Kyungsoo's part. His chest heaved as the king showed no more than a short moment of wide eyes and approving nod.
"Yes, sir. I am honored," Kyungsoo responded. He wished he didn't sound too disappointed.
"Thank you so much for accommodating us well," Junmyeon said. "And I find it amusing that Lord Kyungsoo doesn't look a bit tired at all." He looked at Minseok who nodded right after the king.
Kyungsoo shrugged. "I look stronger than I look like."
"Of course."
The conversation then moved on to the king's journey back to the capital. After several exchanges of gratitude, Junmyeon found himself back in his coach. Kyungsoo, with the whole of his household lined up behind him, bid farewell to the king.
Six months ago, the sound of whips and the horses' loud neighs was a relief for Kyungsoo. This time, it wasn't a breather. It was the start of something different. In two weeks time, life could bring him to a crossroad. He knew he should prepare for the worst, but at the same time, should the stars align in favor of his heart's desire, he should be ready as well.
Two weeks were short. One morning, Kyungsoo woke up to a letter with a royal seal. A few, mostly sleepless, nights later, he was inside a beautiful coach Lord Jonghyun sponsored because "You should make a good impression, my dear friend. Also, don't forget me when you become the consort." Kyungsoo was glad Jonghyun was a duke otherwise his palm would have hit the latter's chest hard and flat.
Kyungsoo didn't really enjoy travelling to Hanseong. He lived in the south and honestly, the north was just home of everything stressful. If it wasn't for Junmyeon he wouldn't be sitting on this coach and waiting for his bottom to rot on his seat. The capital city was half a day of travel away and the grueling boredom was more than he could tolerate. Not to mention the unpaved roads they had to pass through before they could reach the closest steamboat station, reminding him of how inept people of his likes could possibly be. Books could accompany him but his eyes would hurt when the path get rough and bumpy. Although he had brought a butler with him, they just had the littlest of things to talk about. Thankfully, the stops in between provided short relief for his dying legs. Another coach waited at the end of the By the time they reached Hanseong's gates, Kyungsoo couldn’t feel his bum. But at least the travel was over. The next thing he should worry now was what he should do once he's inside.
The palace wasn't a single structure; it was a complex of buildings that covered a huge expanse of land. Although it sat atop a hilly area, it still didn't tower over the city. The surrounding twenty-foot wall formed a six-sided six-angle figure, earning the nickname "The Hexagon" although the people would still commonly call the whole place, the walls included, simply as the palace.
While the walls created a bland impression, the inside structures were a marvel for anybody's eyes. Crossing the bridge over a moat that was built for decorative purposes only, the biggest gate, manned by the Royal Guards, led to a wide palace grounds. A fountain stood at its center, creating a roundabout. Another wall and gate, albeit smaller, extended a few meters away and beyond that stood a concentration of structures. There, more guards were stationed.
The coach stopped right in front of the smaller gate. One of the guards inspected their carriage while another went towards the driver, asking for the invitation. Kyungsoo could overhear their conversation and so he peeked out of the window, called the guard, and gave him the letter. With a nod, the guard returned the invitation and ordered for the gates to be opened.
As soon as they passed through the gates, Kyungsoo could see another group of guards lined up on the side of the road. A carpet led to the Great Hall, a majestic building with an open ground floor. At the top was the Royal Balcony. Kyungsoo recognized it; the place where the king would make his speeches. A few weeks from now, the king would appear again on the same spot, no longer by himself, but with a husband or a wife. Kyungsoo closed his eyes, inhaled the cold air, and let it out as a slow, heavy sigh.
Each candidate’s turn for the Parade was scheduled and would be strictly followed. Kyungsoo’s turn was last and he could only assume it was arranged based on the candidate’s confirmation and not necessarily on precedence. He looked at his clock. It’s half past nine in the morning. He was pretty early for his turn.
As the coach neared its spot, Kyungsoo was still in disbelief. Only at the sight of a minister waiting at the end of the walkway did it begin to sink in: He was in Hanseong, not as a visitor, but as part of the Parade-a potential consort for the king.
A guard opened the coach’s door and he stepped down. As his foot landed the ground, he was told that his things would be brought to the guests' quarters where he would be staying overnight. Kyungsoo nodded. This was it. There was no going back.
Judging by the small amount of officers that lined up the walkway, Kyungsoo could say that the actual Parade was to happen further inside the complex. Besides, neither the king nor his personal guards and ministers were in sight. Yet, the trumpets, flags, and follies of the grounds felt too much for Kyungsoo's liking. But then, in the first place, he was in the capital city, the palace for that matter where everything ostentatious was bound to happen. Amusement filled his head. This was a huge contrast to the king's character.
Kyungsoo smiled as he took the first flight of stairs and onto the landing, past the balustrades where a young-looking minister stood.
"Welcome to Hanseong, Lord Kyungsoo," the minister bowed. "I am Byun Baekhyun, Lord Minister of the Court. I hope you had a good journey all the way from the south?"
"It's nice to meet you, Lord Baekhyun." Kyungsoo said. "It was a little rough. But more pleasant than I expected."
"That's good to hear. His Majesty, the king, is already in the Royal Pavilion. But in the meantime, you will be brought to your quarter. You will be called fifteen minutes before the Parade."
"The Earl of Jeonju," Baekhyun introduced him to the guard. "Please bring Lord Kyungsoo to his quarter."
"This way, my lord." The guard extended an arm to the right. With a bow, Kyungsoo followed the guard, down to the roofed corridors that would lead to the Royal Pavilion. He remained silent with his guard walking at least a foot away from him. As they neared, Kyungsoo could see a huge pond, the Pavilion on its side. It was walled although from its size, they were built for aesthetics only. Three wide, concrete bridges led to its entrance. The central bridge was the only one adorned with flags, banners, and flowers. On the empty lot near it were the Royal Guards, larger in number than those at the Great Hall.
They turned right, away from the Pavilion's corridor and a huge, wide building came into view. The thick columns that lined up its facade and the distance between them suggested that it was divided into quarters. Kyungsoo continued to follow his guard until they reached the last door where he saw his butler standing beside it.
"This is your room, my lord." The guard said. "I will be back fifteen minutes before your scheduled turn. In the meantime, please have a rest. Snacks will be served in a while. Is there anything else you need, sir?"
Kyungsoo shook his head. "There's none. Thank you." And with that, the guard was dismissed.
He wandered his eyes for a moment, thinking if the other candidates would be housed in the same area. Two more structures stood to their side, albeit smaller, but they bore the same design as where he was to stay. His butler said that was their quarters. Behind his building as a small garden with an equally small pond. Aside from that, there was nothing else. The silence discomforted him a bit; it looked like it was just him in the quarters.
As his butler opened the door and brought his luggage in, another guard appeared by the gate and a man in a dashing dark red suit came in along his butler. The flower designs stitched to the side of his clothes, and the round dragon that occupied his chest indicated that he was from another kingdom, probably from China. While the his clothes were quite intimidating, it was his courtly, imposing demeanor that gave Kyungsoo a wave of anxiety.
They stopped in front of the next room. Kyungsoo wasn't exactly sure if this person was also a candidate. It wasn't until the guard said that he'd be back to pick him up "fifteen minutes before your turn" that Kyungsoo's assumption was confirmed. The newcomer, in the simplest word he could think of, was handsome. He was tall and elegant. Despite the kind and endearing features of his face, he still gave off a strong princely attitude.
"Hi," the stranger said, smiling.
Kyungsoo was confused. He wasn't sure if he was the one being spoken to until he remembered that there wasn't anyone yet in this area except for him and his butler-and the royal-looking stranger with his butler, too-so he quickly muttered a hello.
"Are you here for the Parade as well?"
Kyungsoo looked at him with wide eyes before nodding.
"Oh, I'm sorry if my question sounded quite intruding. I knew no one here except for the Duke of Paju and the king so I thought I should try to make an acquaintance."
"It's okay," Kyungsoo said. Although the person spoke in Korean, there was something odd in the way he pronounced his words. He wasn't a native, Kyungsoo thought. "I think they're the only ones I know here, too."
"Really?" The stranger looked excited, or amused, probably because finally he wasn't alone in his sentiment. "So you must be from a far land."
"Within Korea. I'm from Jeolla, a province in the south."
"I see. I'm from China," the stranger said. That explained the accent. "Is it alright if I ask your name?"
The question made Kyungsoo feel quite affronted. This guy might not be accustomed to their rules and Kyungsoo might be the humblest nobleman to exist in the history of Korean aristocracy but asking an earl of his name before an introduction was rudeness to his ears. He hesitated at first yet his guts told him to give the person the benefit of the doubt. Their conversation began on a polite note anyway and he felt it would be a waste to ruin it with arrogance. And so he succumbed to his guts.
"I'm Do Kyungsoo, Earl of Jeonju. And you are?" Kyungsoo made sure he asked the same question back.
"Oh. It's nice to meet you, Lord Kyungsoo."
Kyungsoo nodded. At least he knew how to address nobility.
"I'm Zhang Yixing." He extended his arm with an open hand, expecting a handshake.
Kyungsoo took it but without his heart jumping out of his chest. He knew ten people were invited for the Parade and while they were all to meet eventually for tonight’s dinner, it appeared that none of them knew who they would be contending with. Kyungsoo was told he was the last to be presented but he never knew one of them would be this person.
And Yixing, he needed no introduction of his title-he had all the right to not say it. Everyone, at least the noblemen, knew of him and his family, the Chinese Imperial Family. To assume he was a distant member of it was foolish. He was, as he said, Zhang Yixing. The son of the emperor, Third Prince of China.
In all honesty, Kyungsoo never wanted to think of the Parade as a competition he should win. Although he found Junmyeon an attractive king-and that he might have already fallen for him-marrying him was far beyond the realistic future he had imagined. He was being practical. What were the odds of a king falling for an almost unknown earl of the south to begin with?
This meant that being in the Parade was the least, probably even outside, of his expectations. But when the king came back to Jeonju two weeks ago and invited him to the Parade, with all that strange happenings within his three-day visit, Kyungsoo's attitude towards it made a quick turn.
He thought that maybe, even by the smallest of margins, even if it wouldn't be easy, somehow, he had an edge over the rest of the candidates. That maybe, Junmyeon would actually like him and that by tomorrow morning, he would hear his name called, the one the king would marry.
Then came Zhang Yixing, the dashing, stately prince from China, and all that Kyungsoo had been daydreaming about for the past two weeks just made another turn. Not that this had disheartened him but he never expected being pitted against a member of the Chinese Imperial Family. It felt like the victor had been chosen before the game could even begin. Kyungsoo's morale two weeks ago was on a boost. Now, he couldn't say if he still had it.
More Notes:
1. Second part is halfway done. It'll be up before the month ends!
2. You probably wouldn't care about how nobility works here but in case you are curious, the noble titles are based on nobility divisions of the Goryeo dynasty mixed with a bit of British peerage rankings. Peerage rules, however, follow neither that of the Goryeo dynasty nor the British. I made them all up! I got some rules written in another document but will probably post it once the whole series is done.