Chapter Text
“You could at least pretend to be happy to see these people, or at the very least not look like someone threw up their breakfast on your shoes.” Someone off to the side of them snorts in a poor attempt to hide their laughter.
“I don’t know what you mean. I’m very happy,” Minho says in his most official, regal voice as he plasters on what must be the least convincing smile in the world if Felix’s red face and trembling shoulders are anything to go by. “I’m hurt and offended, Channie, that you would think otherwise.”
“Pouting gets you nowhere, Your Highness. Your sneer could curdle dairy, and I’m pretty sure at least one valet back there is now cowering behind the horses after one look at you.”
“There’s a lot of new smells, I can’t help it. My delicate senses are overwhelmed.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Everyone? Everyone? The Crown Prince’s nose tingles, can we call it a day?”
Minho hears a loud sigh and looks over to see Seungmin now practically clinging to his brother to keep him upright as he finally lets out the full belly laugh he’d been holding in as he and Chan continue to bicker. He settles Chan with a final glare before letting out a small sigh of his own and fixing his face into something he hopes looks anything close to polite and cordial as the next carriage pulls up in front of them.
They began welcoming guests to the castle before the sun had even properly risen, and now that it’s high in the sky Minho has had just about his fill of the potential suitors flooding the palace, his home, and his personal space. Nobles, royalty from their ally kingdoms, even some of the most prestigious merchants in their kingdom are all throwing their names in the proverbial hat in a bid for his, Felix’s, and one of their cousin's, who has just recently presented, hand in marriage. He’s tired and it’s still a bit cold out, the last remnants of winter hanging on by a thread and refusing to let spring have its day, but more than anything he’s annoyed. He’s irritated at being forced to play up his ruse over the coming weeks more than he already has to on a near daily basis. He’s frustrated at his mother’s insistence on dragging Felix and their cousin into this mating nightmare.
Minho and Felix bow to Lord Jeong, welcoming him and his family to the palace. Lord Jeong’s towering, obnoxiously-alpha son, Jiho, and his omega daughter, Iseul, nearly fall over one another in an attempt to get closer to the two princes, the latter of whom bats her eyes a little too hard his way as her brother tries to shake his hand and crowd his space. Minho forces back another sigh and instead offers another polite bow as Chan lets them know where to go once they’re inside.
“Well, they sure seemed eager to get to know you better, Min. If Jiho had gotten any closer, I’d think he was the one bidding to be your mate,” Felix chuckles.
“Yeah. Sure. He’s the, what, thirteenth alpha this morning who’s tried to see if they can catch even a mild hint of my scent as their omega children or siblings giggle and blush behind them? It’s like they think that if they shove their noses deep enough into our personal space, they’ll somehow bypass the scent blocking patches. Boy, wouldn’t they all be shocked if they could, mm?”
Great, he thinks, bitterness looks good on you, Minho…
It’s not just that he’s angry that he’s being forced to prance around in front of a bunch of suitors he couldn’t care less about, but that it involves an unnecessarily complicated and silly scheme hatched by his mother and her closest advisors. Eunkyung, Minho and Felix’s cousin, had, to their mother’s great pleasure it seems, presented as an omega–perfect. This meant it was perfectly reasonable to the Queen to go ahead and host a large swath of people of all secondary genders at the palace for the next month, combining all three cousins’ ‘race to betrothal’ into one big event. Minho and Felix could court omegas and betas whilst Eunkyung had her pick of alphas and betas; wonderful.
Oh, Minho thought, except for the tiny little problem that none of the omegas (nor even likely the betas, knowing my mother) will ever have a chance with me. How many times have I told them I have no wish to ever fucking mate? Or how exhausting it is to constantly lie to people about–
Minho is pulled out of his mental spiral by two laughs that could likely rival his and Changbin’s in pure decibel.
“Ah, finally! A face I actually want to see… Chan, could you please have someone let Momo know that Hyunjin has arrived?” As Chan walks off to find an attendant, the others watch as the two people dismount their horses, hand over the reins to the royal stablemen, and make their way over.
The person on the right is all grace, limbs, and sharp features. Beautiful, soft black hair hangs over either side of their forehead, extending down just over their ears on the side and halfway to the base of their neck at the back. A thick, forest green, velvet coat trails down to their knees; layered underneath is a cream-colored, nearly-sheer top tucked into a black corset with gold trimming and design, its delicate lace sleeves extending beyond the arms of the coat. A miniature black paw print marking sits at the hollow of their neck, the hint of their small hybrid form on full display. Minho remembers the first time he met Hyunjin, staring into sharp eyes as full, soft lips spoke to him about the large harbor and trading sector they manage here in the capital city, and was pretty sure he’d just met the most objectively beautiful creature in, well, at least his whole damn kingdom.
Well. Shit. Maybe Minho stands corrected, because the person to the left of Hyunjin has him feeling like his heart might beat out of his chest and fall to the icy ground at his feet. A subtle tingle has started under Minho’s skin that seems to glow hotter the closer the two get.
They’re stunning–maybe literally, he thinks, because Minho’s brain feels like it’s trying to push all of his thoughts through an ocean of sludge. The most beautiful dark brown eyes he’s ever seen rest atop high cheekbones, a beautiful nose with a gentle slope and soft point, precious round cheeks, a strong jawline, and the brightest red pout. The person’s skin a warm tan against an icy spring backdrop. Broad shoulders are wrapped up in a black jacket that seems slightly too large and is cropped at their waist, and what looks like only a white undershirt left open and low enough to provide a sneak peek at the muscle underneath. Their shirt is tucked into a pair of baggy, black cotton pants, cinched tight with a belt high on their small waist and tucked into a pair of short leather boots. Several gold chains layer their neck in various lengths, and each ear is covered in more metal than Minho was aware you could even fit. Their midnight-black hair is pushed back off their forehead and combed back over the top of their head; the hair along the sides of their head is cut short and close to their scalp.
Fuck me… They’re actually here- And now? Right now? Fucking stellar timing, Minho thinks with a small scoff.
“If your mouth stays open any longer, Your Highness, you might actually start drooling,” a soft voice mumbles in his ear.
“Fuck off, Channie…” Minho’s ears flush a light pink but he manages to close his mouth just as a wave of passion flower and soft spun sugar wafts through the air towards them. “Hyunjin, welcome. It’s so good to see you again." He puts on what might be his first genuine smile of the day and bows to the person in front of him. “And who have you brought with you..?”
“Ah, Your Highness, it’s such a pleasure to see you again, and you, too, Chan. I can’t believe it’s been nearly a year since we’ve all seen one another–a shame really,” Hyunjin purrs, flirtatious as ever. “And Prince Felix! It’s an honor to finally meet you, your brother and Chan talk about you constantly when we’re together. Wow, and you’re just absolutely stunning; who are you, lovely?” Hyunjin gushes about a mile a minute, bowing to everyone individually as they address them.
“It’s my pleasure, I’ve heard so much about you,” Felix says as he clearly tries to keep himself from giggling at their excitement, “and this is Seungmin. My pronouns are he/him and Seungminnie’s are she/her. She’s my personal advisor and close friend. Seungmin, Hyunjin manages some of the harbor and trade sectors; their pronouns are they/them.” Seungmin and Hyunjin bow to each other as Minho and Hyunjin’s mystery friend not-so-discreetly eye one another. Minho lets out a pointed cough as Hyunjin begins to strike up a conversation with Felix about the dark animal markings around his eyes, knowing that if he lets them both get started, they’ll talk until they’re all frozen solid and starving for dinner.
Getting the hint, and looking mildly exasperated by Hyunjin already, Seungmin lets out her own little cough, “Uh, while it’s lovely to meet you, probably, how about we wrap up introductions so we can get the princes inside. It’s been a long morning, but I believe that’s the last of the arrivals for today.” Minho often finds himself grateful for Seungmin’s straightforwardness and desire to stick to a point. There was a brief moment in time when she was set to be one of his own advisors; eventually, however, he realized that Seungmin truly shined best when she worked alongside Felix, the two balancing each other out in much the same way that he and Chan do, each advisor grounding the princes in their own way.
“Ah. Yes. Your Highnesses, this is my closest friend, Han Jisung. I asked him to come along for our meetings as he has some knowledge of certain trade circles and markets that I thought could be useful for our conversations. He’s an excellent tradesman, often accompanying my ships to work with my clients across the sea. I apologize for not letting you know sooner, it was, ah, a little last minute of me. But don’t worry about accommodations! He can stay with me, it’s not a problem, I hope. ” Minho watches Hyunjin fidget nervously and almost wants to laugh out loud. He can’t believe sometimes that this is a person who regularly bullies certain types of smugglers and dealers out of their harbor, leaving them running with their tails between their legs.
“Forgive me, Your Highnesses,” Jisung says as he bows low, “When Hyunjin asked me to come along, I couldn’t pass up such an honorable opportunity to work alongside them, and you. I hope to make up for this intrusion with some helpful insight and possible connections–”
Minho snorts loudly, and maybe not-so-princely. “I’m well aware of why you’re here, Han Jisung, and what it is that you do, and it is not haggling with whatever idiots Hyunjin is swindling out of precious merchandise for far less than it’s worth.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it wasn’t technically a lie either. Minho did know why Jisung was at the palace, loosely speaking, and could infer from what he’d seen his ‘profession’ often entailed, but he didn’t know many of the details beyond that. Not that he was going to let Jisung know that just yet.
He looks around at the five equally confused and slightly shocked faces and sighs a little. “I saw a vision of you, Han Jisung. A few days ago. I’ll admit, though, I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning with Hyunjin. I saw that someone has hired you to come spy on me and–” Before he can get another word out, Chan is turning on his heels to call the nearest guards over, and Felix’s usually sweet, calm face has instantly frozen into a sneer and a steady, low growl has started in the back of his throat; even Seungmin looks ready to wrestle Jisung to the ground herself.
Hyunjin has begun waving their arms around their head, stammering loudly, and releasing what they likely think is a calming scent in an attempt to deescalate, but the evident panic rising in them is turning it sour. Jisung remains calm, eyes still locked with Minho’s even as two guards flank him on either side.
Before anything else can happen (shit, should have thought that one through…), Minho holds up his hand. “Enough,” he says in a commanding tone, “everyone calm down. As I was saying,” he drawls as he cuts Chan a hard side eye, even though he knows the alpha was doing both his job as well as acting on his natural protective instinct for the prince and his friend, “I know this story is bullshit. Honestly, Hyunjin’s inability to lie properly would have blown your cover even if I hadn’t seen you coming. However…I have seen other visions of you, and I think perhaps what you’ve both said isn’t as far off from the truth as you think. I think you’re going to have a lot to offer us, so… I’m not going to throw you in the dungeon…for now,” he smirks.
Chan, Felix, and Seungmin all share a look, but before anyone can say anything, Jisung asks, “You…saw me? I thought there was no longer a royal oracle in the palace.” He sets Minho with a stare that hovers somewhere between bored and challenging, as though he’s trying to not give away his level of interest in the topic.
“You’re correct, there isn’t. Or rather, there is, but that role is no longer filled by a person now that Chung Cha has retired. Which you and many other people in the kingdom are well aware of at this point; it’s not exactly some well-kept secret. Playing stupid won’t help you here, but if you’d like me to entertain to you, I’ll happily do so in return for you entertaining me with why you’re really here. It’s not really something I’m going to discuss here, however, so perhaps let's all head instead. I’m sure some food and heat would do us all some good, and I think perhaps Momo and Changbin may wish to be a part of this conversation.”
He signals for the guards to leave and turns on his heel to head back inside before anyone can say anything else to him. He's fighting a wave of exhaustion as his heart hasn’t slowed once since his first glimpse of Jisung. In fact, it may have nearly doubled its pace upon hearing him speak, finally right there in front of him. The burn in his veins that began in close proximity to the other man has left him feeling simultaneously ragged and more alive than he’s felt in years. It already takes so little these days to wear him out, did he really need the hottest man in the fucking universe to waltz up to his doorstep at the end of the most exhausting morning he’s had in a while?
I t’s fine. So the universe is playing a cruel game with you, bringing him here in the middle of all this suitor nonsense. To tempt you into fucking up your mother’s ridiculous plan, which I guess I should be thanking it for, then. But it’s fine. Deep breaths. Don’t think about his tiny little waist all cinched up between a baggy shirt and baggy pants, or those pouty little lips and how they’d feel–
“Min, wait,” Chan calls out, having easily caught up with his long stride, “you’re–you’re sure? You’re really sure this is okay? Like, no offense, but what the fuck? What do you mean he’s here as a spy, but that it’s just…fine? Hey–” Chan grabs his arm gently and discreetly, trying to get his attention as they walk through the castle doors and down towards the family’s private dining hall while still avoiding drawing attention to him harassing the Prince. “Talk to me, Min. You really saw him, and you saw that it’s okay to just let him be here?”
“Chan, you know it doesn’t always work that way.” Minho sighs heavily. “But yes, I saw visions that someone hired him to come gather information on me, but it was…vague, as if the person didn’t know exactly what they were asking him to learn, or were working very hard to conceal it. And yes, I have also seen other visions of him and…” Minho falters, stopping just a few feet from the hall doors, allowing the others to pass them as they head into the room. He’s not sure what to say to convince Chan short of telling him everything he’s seen, and he’s not quite sure he’s ready to do that. “He’s…important, Chan. Trust me, please.”
Chan blinks a few times, but eventually his face softens into a gentle smile and he drops his hand from Minho’s arm. “Okay, Min. Of course I trust you, and if you say he’s okay, then…okay. Yeah. I trust you. I just want to keep you safe.”
Minho offers a small smile in return, “I know you do, Channie. Thank you. It’ll be okay and we’ll play it by ear, see what he says and we can always… Seek out another vision if desired or needed. Although, I will need some backup and assistance to keep Changbin from possibly tearing him apart once he hears about this.”
Chan lets out a soft huff, “If anything dangerous comes of Jisung being here, I’ll happily help him.” He goes to head into the dining hall, only to stop mid-turn, “Are you alright? It’s been a really long day already. The only thing officially left on your schedule is your meeting with Momo, Changbin, Hajun, Hyunjin…and I guess now Jisung, if you think that’s actually a good idea. I’m of the mind to have you rest beforehand, but now with this new situation, perhaps it’s best if we start the meeting right away. Or, we could always–”
“Channie. I’m fine, really. I’m a little tired, but I’ll be fine. I’ll rest up this evening. Thankfully there’s no ridiculous suitor nonsense until later this week as far as I’m aware. Let’s just have some food and deal with everything now, yeah, and then I’ll take it easy tonight. Promise.” Minho gives him a look which denotes that this line of discussion is over, and Chan nods, knowing well enough by now to let it go.
The two men join the others in the hall, already seated at a long table, food spread out along the length of it. The mixing scents in the room mingle together to reflect the variety of moods settling around the table. Hyunjin’s increasingly sour anxiety blends with Chan’s added annoyance and fills the air, leaving Minho a little dizzy. Even Seungmin’s soft masala chai scent is easy to catch underneath it all, betraying her outwardly calm-but-pointed stare at the two visitors sitting across from her.
Interestingly, he catches nothing from Jisung and hasn’t since he arrived. If it wasn’t for his own use of scent blocking patches, he might mistake the lack of strong scent as the sign of a beta; however, the complete lack of scent has him questioning that assumption. Minho sighs a little too loudly, exhausted and mentally scolding himself for making any assumptions regarding someone’s secondary gender, and makes his way to take a seat next to the newest addition to their party who’s sat near the head of the table.
Momo has always been a comforting presence and he hopes to soak up some of the confused but soothing scent the alpha is letting off. He’s known Momo just shy of a decade now, first meeting her when she arrived for an audience with the King requesting he take greater action against the ever-rampant omega trafficking rings. Minho had immediately taken interest, sixteen, shocked, and fully unaware of the horrors taking place across his kingdom. She and her small team, with the assistance of Minho and the handful of guards he’d been allowed to pull from their regular duties, took down a den operating close to the village in which Momo grew up. He thinks she might be one of the strongest people he’s ever met, in more ways than one. Ever since, she’d become one of his closest friends and mentor, supporting him as he petitioned his father and the King’s advisors to begin an official royal endeavor against the omega and oracle trafficking crisis plaguing the underground sectors of their kingdom. She defended his inclusion to her team as well, many objecting to his being at least half the age of nearly everyone else involved. Minho worked hard every day to make sure he returned the efforts in kind, making sure no one in the castle ever questioned her position there.
Momo gives him a curious once over as he takes his seat next to her and places her hand on his knee, rubbing gentle circles and giving it a light squeeze. “So. As interesting as this dynamic is, would anyone like to share with the class what the fuck is going on before we all suffocate under the weight of all the stink filling the air?”
Chan lets out a soft groan while at the same time Minho fails to hide his smirk in time. Chan regularly laments his luck that Minho and Momo were brought together by the universe; “If the two of you don’t burn the palace down first, you’re likely to sass everyone to death.”
“I believe we’re waiting for Changbin and Hajun before we begin. I think it’s best to just start our meeting now while we’re all together anyway.”
“Bin and Hajun are, unfortunately, going to miss both lunch and the meeting. They got a lead from a good source and have gone out to follow it. Don’t worry–I’ve sent others out to shadow them; they’ll be fine. Now, can we please tone down the scents and move onto the introductions and food, children? Hyunjin, it’s good to see you again,” Momo says with a pleasant smile which quickly slips into a cautious glare as she asks, “who is your friend?”
“Jisung, this is Katō Momo. She’s the leader and co-founder of the Royal Anti-Trafficking Organization. Momo, this is Han Jisung. He’s apparently here to spy on the Crown Prince and who knows who else; what for we’ve all yet to hear, but I’m sure we’re all on the edge of our seats.” Chan sits posed near the end of the table, glare locked on Jisung and hands positioned over his mouth so that the large marking of a snarling wolf’s mouth covering the entirety of his right hand looks to be replacing his own. Felix shoots him a scowl and then a small, gentle smile, which Chan responds to by relaxing his shoulders and stifling the menacing edge to his scent that was once again beginning to overpower all others in the room.
There’s a beat of silence before a hesitant voice speaks up. “What His Highness said is true; I was hired to get into the palace and learn what I could about the Crown Prince. If he’s seen it, then I suppose trying to lie my way out of it isn’t exactly going to get me anywhere. Which… Is it true? There’s really no royal oracle? How could visions without an oracle actually be possible?” It was Jisung’s turn to look unconvinced.
“I don’t really think you’re in any position to–”
“Yes,” Minho interrupts, “it’s true. It’s been public knowledge for years now that the Royal Family no longer employs someone to be the royal oracle. Though, I suppose it’s fair to be skeptical; we’ve never gone into much in-depth detail about it. Chung Cha was the last oracle the Royal Family has employed; she was with us for over thirty years. A long time for an oracle…” Minho lets out a quiet, shaky breath before continuing, feeling another gentle squeeze on his knee.
“The King worked with Chung Cha before her retirement to develop the use of a scrying orb that would assist in any future need for clairvoyance. She was able to use her strong abilities to See to create this tool for us. Most oracles are able to project their visions in some way or another, typically using some kind of reflective surface, though others are powerful enough to–how do I put it? They can show others what they see either through the other person’s own mind, or even projecting them outwards, creating a…visual scene around them, if that makes sense. It truly varies; Momo and I have seen quite a number of interesting ways oracles’ powers may manifest. And while it’s not common, there are oracles powerful enough who are able to use mirrors and orbs or other tools to provide others the ability to continue to See in their absence. We understand that it's very useful for smaller villages, and so we decided to try this method instead of placing the burden on another person this time around. Creating these kinds of tools adds to the great toll that visions take on oracles and their vitality; trust me when I say we do not take all that Chung Cha has done for us lightly.”
Minho levels him with a stare that he hopes is enough to end this line of questioning. Ignoring the tense look in Felix’s eyes and the clench of his jaw, Minho presses on, “Now, what exactly were you hired for? You seem quite interested in our oracle situation, and you’re posing as some assistant to Hyunjin; if you’re here to gain information on our anti-trafficking efforts, I’m perfectly happy to give you some nice, cozy accommodations down in the dungeons.”
“Honestly–and, like, I understand that my claim to honesty probably seems questionable, but…I don’t know.” Jisung sighs as the room goes quiet with the exception of several sounds of disbelief coming from around the table. “The man that hired me said he’d been hearing some intriguing and fantastical rumors about the Crown Prince lately, rumors that he found extremely interesting and of possible use for him. He hired me to infiltrate the castle to find out if they’re true. This would have been fine if not for two things: one, he didn’t fucking tell me what I’m supposed to be learning about, and two, he sent me during the worst possible time. I’m sure he thought all of the confusion of the suitor nonsense would help me find a cover, but truly all it means is extra security to dodge around. It wasn’t a lie, what Hyunjin said; we are very close and I have, uh, ‘helped’ them with some of their more difficult clients. When Hyunjin told me they were coming to the palace on official business, I saw my best, or at least easiest, chance to gain access to not only the castle, but hopefully also to you and some of the conversations they’re here to be a part of. I asked them if I could join, instead saying I was on a job to gather intel on one of the nobles in attendance at the palace.”
It’s Seungmin’s turn to scoff. “Are you fucking serious? That’s it? You took a job with practically no information to go on and then bumbled your way through it? How the fuck did you manage to score a job to gather information on the Prince?” Minho blinks a few times in mild surprise; it usually took a lot for Seungmin to lose her composure, and especially to curse outside of the private family wings.
“Listen! I’m hired for a whole slew of various kinds of jobs, typically by merchants, but also a noble here and there. It’s not totally out of the question to be hired by someone who doesn’t know exactly what they’re wanting me to find out. I’m really fucking good at what I do, no need to be humble about it; I’m pretty fucking stealthy, creative, and persuasive when I need to be. But work smart, not hard sometimes, okay? Coming with Hyunjin seemed like the most cost-effective, energy-wise, option. Apparently it’s all fucking moot, though, when the person who you’re supposed to be gathering information on sees a fucking vision of you being hired!” Jisung lets out a petulant huff that contradicts his own claims to being a skilled professional mercenary a little, his baggy clothing bunching up around his shoulders only adding to the image of a much smaller man sitting down the table from him than the one who arrived just an hour ago, and Minho can’t help but find it a bit cute.
“You didn’t think we’d be keeping an eye out for security breaches with the number of royals and nobles in our walls? You’re either an idiot or a liar, though I’m inclined to think both. Why would you tell us all of this? If you’re really hired as often as you say, why would you just spill the details of your employment?”
Jisung sighs again and takes a beat, seemingly considering Seungmin’s last question seriously. “I– I’m not sure. Beyond the fact that the Prince has already seen some of what I’ve said, oh and that I’m already surrounded by all of you, and, well, also that I’m not totally a fan of the idea of living in a dungeon for the rest of my life, it just feels like…what I want to do. Like there’s some part of me that just knows that this is what I should do. Which probably sounds like another bullshit answer, I get it. Hyunjin would hopefully vouch for me on this, but I don’t often just bail on clients, especially not when they’ve already paid me a down payment for a job. But I always listen to my gut, it’s what has kept me alive in some of the worst possible situations, and my gut is saying that this job has felt off from the beginning, and now that we’re here, this feels more like a relief than a way to wiggle out of a trap.”
It’s clear to Minho that Jisung seems hesitant at that response, as if he himself is not totally sure what it means. Warm, brown eyes find his and reflect back the same mixture of confusion and fire that Minho feels swarming around in his own gut. He prepares himself for the reaction his next statement is going to make.
“Alright. I believe you.” As expected, the room explodes in a cacophony of disbelieving exclamations and scoffs, groans, and even nervous laughter from the corner where Hyunjin has all but turned into a puddle of sweat and nerves. He feels Felix and Momo’s intrigued stares on him, as well as the glare boring its way through his skull that Chan has thrown his way. Minho lets out a low growl, not a show of dominance, but more like a call for quiet and attention. As a tense silence settles back over the room, he finds Jisung again, eyes still focused on him, and says, “What we do next, however, is open for discussion–actual discussion! I’m of mixed feelings; I do think you possess a lot of useful knowledge that may help fill in some gaps for us–this is why Hyunjin often assists us. However, seeing as we don’t know what you’re meant to learn here, I’m hesitant to allow you to be privy to the work we’re doing, not knowing if you’ve been hired to share information to a trafficker about our operations.”
Jisung’s eyes darken as he spits out, “I don’t take trafficking jobs, the people who hire me know this. This guy trades in things like furs and fabrics, dyes–textile merchandise–not people.”
Minho can’t help but roll his eyes a little. “Of course he does. They always have some semi-legitimate business, Jisung. They never just sell people. If you’re here and you don’t know why, he wouldn’t tell you why or pretended to not know why, and you’re adamant about not taking such jobs–then of course he wouldn’t tell you it’s for a trafficking job. Regardless of what Seungmin thinks or the act you’ve been trying to play since you got here, you’re not an idiot. This is the biggest work that I do at the moment and is highest on the list of things people may want to know about so they can stay one step ahead of us.”
Minho knows that, in all likelihood, this is accurate. It wouldn’t be the first time traffickers have hired people to harass or even kidnap some of their team members in an attempt to learn more about them. But he can’t help the light chill running up his spine, twisting his stomach. What if you’re wrong? What if something else is being whispered somewhere in back alleys and in the dark corners of the seediest taverns? What if there are people out there who know? Minho stops himself short; he can have another nice, full mental spiral later tonight if he likes.
“How can we be sure you won’t send him information? How can I be sure I can trust you–hell, why should I? Sure, maybe I don’t send you to the dungeons, but why should I keep you around? I likely should just kick you out of my castle; you deal with the repercussions of having your cover so easily blown.” Jisung doesn’t answer, and at this point, Minho isn’t even really asking him anymore anyways.
In the end, Minho doesn’t kick him out, much to the confusion of nearly everyone in the room. He can smell the frustration rolling off of Chan and knows he’s going to get an earful later. Felix and Momo send him knowing looks, and he thinks he’d much rather have the next part of this conversation with them alone before bringing in anyone else. Chan and Changbin are going to love that… It can’t be helped, or it could but he’d rather it not.
He dismisses everyone, stating that it’s best to hold off on the first meeting to catch Hyunjin up until Changbin and Hajun return. He expected some amount of open pushback, but perhaps the growing weight of the day is showing more than he’d like, because everyone but Jisung gives him a brief nod and a, “Yes, Your Highness.” Minho sends Felix and Momo return looks that he hopes express something along the lines of, ‘Please come to my room later and bring the biggest bottle of wine you can find, thank you very much.’ There’s a lot to figure out and he trusts Momo to have a level head about this entire situation. Felix will also likely have a unique perspective he’d like to get before other, more forceful personalities jump into the fray. The wine is there for emotional support.
~
Jisung walks silently behind Hyunjin as they’re led to Hyunjin’s (and, he guesses, now his) quarters for the duration of their stay, extending the mental map of the palace he’s been slowly building since his first time here. He’s only been to this level of the palace maybe a handful of times over the years; typically his jobs involved the servants quarters or different work stations, but every so often he got a job that involved one of the advisors or nobles who lived and worked in the palace. Knowing how to maneuver through the areas of the castle with the least amount of guards and the most amount of gossip has always been important on any job that had sent him here, and he had hoped that this time around it would help him get in and out quickly. Surely, he’d thought, if there was something askew between the public persona of the Crown Prince and the real Prince, the people who did the most work but were also the most ignored would know. And really, he reasons, that is in all likelihood still the case. But now he’s going to have to be extra careful, extra sneaky–
Or fucking sneaky at all. I can’t believe I thought just walking in with Hyunjin was the best way to handle this.
Jisung couldn’t really be too mad at the criticisms thrown his way today–this really might be his most lackadaisical approach to a job in a while, especially to such a high-profile one. And the glare Hyunjin had leveled at him on their way out of the dining hall that afternoon had been well-deserved after Jisung had brought his friend into such a mess of a situation. But really, how was he supposed to know that this job would be important enough that some stupid scrying orb would show the Prince a vision of it?! Fuck. This was well below his usual caliber of work, and he hoped it wouldn’t get out or he’d never get another job.
The Prince was right, though; there were some pretty obvious answers to the types of information people might want about him. Jisung had been nervous to take the job in the first place, and if he hadn’t truly needed the money it offered, he likely wouldn’t have. Fucking around with the Royal Family was on his list ‘idiot tasks’ and yet here he was. He hadn’t lied to them, Jisung really didn’t know what he was hired to do beyond getting close enough to Crown Prince Lee Minho and figuring out what could be so rumor-worthy. He’d had some vague jobs in the past, but this one really took the cake. In the days between acquiring the job and arriving on the steps of the palace, Jisung had tried to run a mental list of what rumors could possibly interest a known textile merchant and smuggler.
Jisung also hadn’t lied that he doesn’t take jobs from traffickers, that was on his short list of ‘abso-fucking-lutely not’ jobs. He did have some fucking morals, thank you very much; he may make deals with corrupt nobles, smugglers, and dodgy merchants and tradesmen all the time, but trafficking is something he never wants to touch with a ten foot pole. It made his blood boil to think this person may have hired him in order to gain insider details on the anti-trafficking group run by Prince Minho and Momo.
He’d suspected whatever he was supposed to learn must have been big, something worth the trouble of going directly to the source, but this hadn’t really occurred to him, he’d have to admit. Maybe that was because if, like the Prince had suggested, this was about whatever trafficking ring they’ve brought Hyunjin in on, surely there were easier targets to go after for information. Or maybe Jisung wanted to play ignorant to willfully fool himself, pretending this couldn’t possibly be about that because he needed the money so badly. While Jisung’s still not entirely sure that’s what this is all about, he also has no intention of passing along any information about what Minho, Momo, and their team were up to; he’d seen the pain trafficking brought and had no interest in upholding such a disgusting system.
Again: Morals, dignity, not a total asshole.
Jisung also hadn’t lied about the fact–you know, I may be a mercenary for hire and have to pretend and lie for my job, but like…come on, I’m not a, like, habitual liar! Just sometimes I have to lie professionally, that’s all–that he had felt compelled to tell them everything, or, well, tell Minho everything. The others, especially Chan and Seungmin, could get fucked in his personal opinion. From the moment Jisung had gotten off his horse and stood in front of him, though, he’d wanted nothing more than for the Prince to…trust him? Like him? Want to be near him? He wasn’t totally sure; it had been kind of confusing to be honest, the whirl of emotions that swarmed through his head and stomach at the sight of him.
God, he’s so pretty; it’s not fair.
The Prince had been outfitted that day in what Jisung assumed was slightly more special attire given the morning’s events, as most photos he’d ever seen of the Prince showed him in more casual, elegant but not ostentatious outfits as opposed to today’s look. He’d worn a fitted black jacket encrusted with jewels and embroidery woven into intricate silver floral designs across the front; a ruffled silk collar extended high up his neck, while equally ruffled cuffs spread out over his wrists and covering half of his hands from the ends of his coat sleeves. The Prince’s loose, black slacks were cinched somewhere high on his waist, hidden under his coat, and he wore sharp-pointed black leather boots with elaborate silver tips. His long, black cape had silver floral patterns that coordinated with those on his coat and was attached by the ornate silver-plated harness that sat atop both of his shoulders. Every finger was layered with jewelry, silver and diamond earrings in asymmetrical lengths hung from his ears, and the crown he was usually pictured in had been replaced by elegant five-pointed silver crown with delicate silver wrapping around diamonds of all sizes.
But none of the shiny fabrics or bright jewels had anything on the Prince himself, a man of sharp angles and soft, round edges. Beautiful feline eyes, seemingly analyzing every movement he made, looked down at him over a long, sharp nose. His high cheekbones and strong jaw look like they could cut paper, but something about the slight, gentle roundness to his cheeks blurs the features togethers into something golden and graceful, as though he stepped out of painted portrait somewhere, leaving behind some frozen scene of fountains splashing and breeze-blown flower petals to bring to their world something wholly shining, fresh, and delicate.
The feature that most intrigued Jisung, however, has always been the Prince’s hair. It reminded him a bit of Hyunjin’s, though much longer in the back, creeping down the back of his neck and reaching closer to his shoulders. It was also a soft black like Hyunjin’s, except Prince Minho’s hair was streaked through with white. In some places, like along his temples, in his styled and sculpted bangs, and one thick band in the back that looked to be at least an inch wide, the white looked more like large stripes. Mostly, however, the white was scattered lightly throughout, giving it a slight salt-and-pepper look in some places.
No one ever really spoke about it, officially anyways, but it was clear this was more than just premature graying, evident when any new white joined the rest in thick stripes.
He’d heard plenty of speculation over the last few years as the Prince’s hair continued to drastically change, ever since he came of age and presented; many wondered if it had something to do with that, though no one seemed to know of any other alphas whose hair just randomly turned white over time. And while it was sometimes interesting to overhear in a crowded tavern, the question never really held purchase in Jisung’s mind. All he knew was that he found it to be just about the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He thought it gave the Prince an impression of having bright starlight in the night sky of his black hair.
So sure. Fine. He was beautiful…gorgeous...stunning, breathtaking–whatever!
So then it made sense that Jisung had felt like his tongue was at great risk of attaching itself permanently to the roof of his mouth this morning, and that he’d been afraid that he’d sweat through his clothes so thoroughly as to leave huge wet stains even through his jacket. Embarrassing, for sure, but what really got to him was the ache, the deep burn that felt like his entire being had been set on fire from the inside that started as he and Hyunjin dismounted their horses and built to a level that might have been painful if it hadn’t felt so right the closer they got to the group at the base of the palace steps.
And it never left, not once did it seem to subside as the afternoon wore on; it was more like Jisung found himself getting used to it until it felt as natural as breathing. Perhaps, he muses, his blood has always been boiling inside of him and he’d just never noticed it until now, dulled to the feel of it after experiencing it his whole life, and something about today caused it to burst back into his consciousness. He’s not sure. What he is sure of is that whatever is happening inside of him now feels a thousand times worse than the sting of when the burn had begun earlier that afternoon. He feels an emptiness that he’s not sure the root of, a hollowness that started in his core and spread outwards until every part of him felt like it’s missing something, like maybe it has always been missing something and he’s just never noticed that until today either.
Ugh. Whatever all of this mess was, the burning in his veins left him with a need to get on Minho’s good side, a desire to prove he could trust him, even if Jisung wasn’t entirely sure himself if that was true. Thus, he spilled more of his guts in the first hour of them having known each other than he ever has to anyone who’s ever grilled him about a job in the past.
Jisung looks up just in time to avoid colliding with Hyunjin, who is giving him one of the dirtiest looks they’ve laid on him in years. Well deserved, he knows it. “It looks like there’s an ensuite to one side and a small parlor room with a couch where you can sleep,” they say.
“Hyunjin, I–”
“Don’t. Jisung, just don’t. I’m tired, it’s been a stupidly long day. Let’s just get some rest and we can talk about things after I’ve had what I hope will be the best nap of my fucking life, and if I don’t still quite feel like killing you myself, okay?”
Jisung nods and bows his head with a soft sigh as he heads inside to flop down on the couch. Hyunjin gives him one last withering look before ducking into their room and shutting the door with a little more force than might be necessary.
Alright, Jisung, game plan. Step one, apologize to Hyunjin and hope they stop imagining the many ways they could end your life. Step two, figure out how the fuck to convince Prince Minho (and I guess everyone else, too) that you’re not here to sell them out. Step three…continue the job? Pretend to continue the job? Go with the flow and hope you don’t have to pry into the Prince’s private life too hard, instead falling ass backwards into whatever silly little, definitely inconsequential thing some smuggler and textile magnate might find interesting about him. Yes. That one, that’s the plan! Great job, Jisung.
He lets out a loud groan as he extinguishes the nearest lantern and smothers his face with some beautifully and unnecessarily elaborately embroidered cushion.