Chapter Text
The young omega sat by the wide, arched opening in the wall, its glass panels frosted with the season's breath. Slowly, he unlatched it, the metal latch clicking in the quiet of his chamber. He pushed the panes outward, feeling the sharp sting of the chill against his skin. Snowflakes drifted through the air, twisting in lazy spirals that reminded him of how everything always moved on — while he stayed. Stuck.
His doe-like eyes hardened with bitterness as they watched the full moon hanging in the ink-black sky. That cursed moon. It had been there the night he lost everything. At only four, he had known the warmth of his mother's smile and the strength of his father’s embrace—but it all shattered in a foreign land, where assassins ended their lives in an instant. His parents—the King and Queen—were slain before anyone could save them.
It had started inside a grand, moving carriage. Seungmin sat nestled between his mother and father, drowsiness tugged at him as his mother’s fingers brushed gently through his soft hair, her touch as soothing as the steady motion of the carriage. Outside, only a handful of royal guards flanked the vehicle.
His father, his shadowed face framed by the dim light of the lanterns inside. Through the frosted window, his sharp eyes watched the moonlit road, ever vigilant.
All seemed peaceful.
Until it wasn’t.
The carriage jolted, hard enough to throw Seungmin against his mother’s side. His small hands clutched the folds of her gown as the sudden motion jarred him awake.
“What was that?” his mother asked, her voice tense but quiet. The carriage slowed, then stopped altogether. Even the guards’ measured footsteps outside faltered, their voices murmuring low against the cold air. His father reached for the door. The frosty air rushed in as it swung open bite of winter.
Seungmin blinked up at his father, confusion knitting his brows. “Appa?” he whispered.
The King stepped out with purpose, boots crunching against the snow. “Stay inside,” he ordered before closing the door. Seungmin’s mother pulled him closer, her hand resting protectively against his chest
The world had turned quiet, but not the kind of quiet that brought peace. This was only the calm before the storm. Suddenly, he heard it—the clash of swords, followed by muffled grunts, and the thud of heavy boots on the cobblestones. His mother’s hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him close. She kept glancing at the door. Then it burst open.
A figure clad in black stormed in, face obscured by a cloth mask, eyes gleaming with intent. But before the intruder could strike, a sword flashed through the air, slicing clean through the night.
The blade pierced through the figure’s head, crimson spraying across the carriage’s ornate interior. The masked intruder’s body crumpled to the floor with a sickening thud, lifeless and heavy. The rich, metallic scent of blood mingled with the icy chill that seeped in through the open door. It was the king’s doing. He stood just outside the carriage, sword in hand.
Seungmin’s eyes widened in terror as he clung tightly to his mother’s side, his small hands trembling. Her grip on him was protective, even as her face paled at the sight before them.
The king’s gaze locked onto the queen. "Take the Crown Prince and run!"
The queen didn’t hesitate. Her arms locked around Seungmin, pulling him close to her chest. She gathered her skirts and stepped out of the carriage, feet crunching against the snow.
“Protect the queen and the prince!” The King shouted, his voice strained as he parried an assassin’s blade. Those royal guards quickly formed a protective circle around the Queen and Seungmin, their swords drawn and ready.
But in doing so, only a few remained to shield the King. The thinning line of defense left him vulnerable.
The clash of steel against steel grew louder as the battle raged behind them. Blood splattered onto the snow, turning it dark and streaked. The guards held their ground, blocking the attackers with an unwavering resolve, even as the enemy pushed closer.
The queen pulled Seungmin closer, her steps quick as they made their way toward the dense woods.
Then Seungmin saw it.
From the safety of his mother’s arms. His wide, teary eyes caught the flash of steel—a wicked, glinting arc slicing through the air too fast, too final. His father’s body jerked, and for one heart-stopping moment, everything seemed to freeze. His father’s eyes locked onto his, even as blood began to stain his robe. His father's lips moved, shaping silent words Seungmin couldn’t hear over the ringing in his ears.
"Appaaaaa!!!" the word choked up in Seungmin’s throat.
His mother faltered for the briefest second, her body trembling as though she too felt the blade’s cut. But then her grip tightened. She took one step, then another, slow at first, like the weight of everything was about to crush on her. But she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t fall apart now. She kept running, carrying him deeper into the forest. She pulled him closer still—desperate to protect her son.
The place where his father had fallen faded from view as the forest grew denser, swallowed by the towering trees that loomed tall and dark like monstrous fingers clawing at the sky, their branches heavy with frost. Seungmin’s eyes drifted upward, following their jagged silhouettes until they met the full moon—hanging in the cold, unforgiving sky, its light illuminating the snow-covered path ahead. Snow crunched beneath them.
A single royal guard still followed them, his presence like a shield at their backs. The others—those who had earlier formed a protective circle around the queen and Seungmin—had fallen one by one. As they fled into the woods, their breaths ragged and hot against the cold night air. Snowflakes swirled around them like ghosts. Seungmin’s heart pounded in his chest, his small hands clutching at his mother’s dress.
At last, they reached a small town nestled along the edge of a sparkling bay. The soft sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore filled the air as the boats and ships swayed at the dock. The town felt like a refuge, a peaceful place that contrasted sharply with the danger they had just escaped.
The royal guard—who had followed them every step of the way—stood watch, his sharp eyes scanning the surroundings with practiced indifference.
Seungmin’s mother gently set him down and his feet sank into the snow.
She paused, her heart heavy as she looked at her son. His little face, still so innocent, didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. He didn’t know that she was about to send him away to keep him safe, that this would be their last moment together.
Her breath caught in her chest as she knelt in front of him, her hand gently cupping his small, damp cheek "Minnie-ah, my beloved son," she whispered, her voice breaking with emotion. "You have to go with him now." She meant the guard, who stood close to them, waiting for her command. But she didn't need to say more; the guard would do as she ordered, without question.
Seungmin's small body trembled with fear, confusion clouding his innocent eyes. He didn't understand. All he knew was that his mother was asking him to leave her, and he couldn't bear it.
"Eomma," Seungmin sobbed, his tiny hands clutching at her sleeves as he tugged desperately at her, tears spilling down his face. "Let's go together...."
“My love, I can’t,” she said, her voice trembling but steady. “If I go with you, they will find us. They will find you.” She pulled him close, pressing a kiss to his forehead, her tears mixing with his.
Her gaze darted to the guard, her voice taking on a sharp edge of authority. “Take him. Keep him safe. Protect him with your life.”
The guard bowed his head in silent understanding.
The Queen held him close once again, unwilling to let go. The ache in her heart was unbearable, but she knew that this was the only way to keep him safe. If something happened to her baby—the thought of losing him—was too much to endure.
After a moment, she finally pulled back, her eyes glimmering with unshed tears as she gazed at him one last time. "Be brave, my child," she said softly, her voice strained but firm. "Stay with him. And remember, no matter what happens, I will always… love you."
Seungmin clung to her desperately, his small hands trembling as they fisted in her dress. “No! Eomma, no!” he cried, his voice cracked with anguish. “I don’t wanna lose you too! Eomma! Eomma!”
His sobs grew louder, his whole body shaking as he buried his face in her chest. The Queen’s heart shattered at his cries, but she forced herself to remain strong. Her hands gently cupped his tear-streaked face, guiding his gaze to meet hers.
Her throat tightened as she struggled to find the words. Finally, her voice trembled, “I’ll come back for you.”
She lied. Seungmin knew she lied.
“Just like how we always play hide and seek. You’ll hide, and Eomma will come and find you. But, you have to hide well, Minnie-ah.”
Seungmin sniffled and shook his head, his voice soft and broken. “I don’t wanna play, Eomma…”
The Queen gently pried his hands from her sleeves and pressed them into the waiting palm of a royal guard. “Can you do this for me? Please.” she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. “Minnie… You love Eomma, right?”
The guard gently lifted Seungmin into his arms. Seungmin, he nodded, though his body shaking with overwhelming sadness and fear. Just then, the guard began guiding him away. Seungmin looked back at his mother with wide, tearful eyes.
His mother’s eyes never left him, her heart breaking with every step they took.
And then, finally alone, the Queen turned back toward the looming danger, her heart heavy but resolute.
Her hand slipped into the hidden folds of her dress, fingers finding the cold hilt of a dagger concealed beneath the fabric. She drew it out with a steady grip, the blade gleaming sharply in the moonlight. Her eyes narrowed as she gripped the weapon tightly—ready to strike at whoever dared approach.
This was not only for her son’s survival, but for the memory of her fallen king. The thought of him, lying cold and still, her heart ached with the loss. But her son would live. No assassin would take him....
The royal guard boarded a large ship built for travelers with Seungmin. The ship’s wooden deck creaked underfoot as passengers bustled about. The royal guard’s face was youthful yet sharply defined, the shape of his face almost resembling a triangle with a scar running across his chin.
At first, Seungmin’s small sobs were muffled against the guard’s shoulder, but then his eyes peeked out. His gaze wandered toward the dock. There, standing at the edge, two of the assassins held up something gruesome—a sight that burned itself into Seungmin’s young, innocent mind.
His eomma’s head. His appa’s head.
Their faces, once so full of love and warmth, now hung lifeless, eyes open but unseeing.
The people at the dock froze in terror, their faces pale and horrified as the assassins raised their grim trophies high, a sickening display that turned stomachs.
Seungmin’s small body began to shake uncontrollably, his mouth opening to scream—but the guard’s rough, calloused hand clamped over his mouth just in time.
“Don’t,” the guard hissed into his ear, his voice low and urgent. His eyes stayed locked on the assassins. “Don’t make a sound. For your life, Your Highness. For your life.”
Tears streamed down Seungmin’s cheeks, hot and endless. His muffled whimpers barely escaped beneath the guard’s firm hand, but the sound was swallowed by the crash of waves. Seungmin’s eyes squeezed shut, his small fingers clawing at the guard’s cloak, his little body trembling with a terror far too big for someone so small.
One of the assassins glanced toward the ship, his sharp eyes narrowing. The guard’s heart stopped. He crouched lower, curling himself and Seungmin deeper into the shadow of a stack of cargo crates.
But then, another assassin shouted something from behind, drawing the first’s attention away. And the royal guard’s body sagged slightly with relief
The ship’s sails strained against the wind, the creak of the timbers and the rush of water against the hull growing louder as they left the dock behind. And so they sailed toward Lemuria, where the sea stretched endlessly before them, where The Moon would guide them to safety. But no matter how far they went, Seungmin’s young heart carried the trauma of what he’d seen—a sight that would burn into his mind forever...
Seungmin’s tears fell freely, his chest tight with his grief as the memory of his parents’ death gripped him. Above, the moon shone—its light beautiful and unbothered by his suffering. His hand reached out to crush the moon between his fingers, to make it—and his pain—disappear. But it was futile. He couldn’t reach it. Of course, he couldn’t. It was The Moon, afterall. The same moon worshipped by the Lemurians, revered by so many, but to him, he could never bring himself to worship it.
The Moon had been cruel to him, sealing his fate like this. First, with the death of his parents, and now, with Queen Dowager, an alpha, whose cold grip had replaced the warmth of their love. Since that fateful night, she had become his world. Her strict, unyielding presence carved deep lines of duty into him, a life bound by duty and stripped of freedom. How helpless his life had become. And every time he gazed at the Moon, it seemed to remind him of his own helplessness. Though he was born a prince.
“You have no time for childish dreams. You must be perfect. Flawless.”
Her words echoed in his mind. Perfect. Flawless.
Things hit rock bottom when Seungmin turned eighteen and learned he was an omega. The revelation shattered his world—he'd always pictured himself as a dominant alpha, strutting around and exuding power. Instead, his first preheat struck him, sending waves of unfamiliar sensations coursing through his trembling body.
"Nngh...what's happening to me?" he whimpered, feeling the slick dripping down his quivering thighs and soaking through his clothes. His skin burned feverishly as primal needs took hold. His hole clenched and pulsed with desperate want. He moaned deliriously, writhing on his bed as slick gushed from his twitching hole. His cock strained painfully against his pants while his nipples hardened into sensitive peaks. The overwhelming urge to present and submit consumed him.
Seungmin could barely form coherent thoughts. His body moved on pure instinct now—arching, spreading, producing more of that sweet omega slick. He needed to be filled, bred, claimed. The empty ache in his core was maddening.
"Please..." he begged to no one, fingers clawing at the sheets as another wave of arousal crashed over him. His hole fluttered and clenched around nothing, desperate for an alpha's thick knot....
He couldn’t handle it alone.
Jeongin entered Seungmin's chamber that night to calm him. Seungmin’s favorite servant, though in truth, more like a friend. Jeongin had always been by his side. A year younger, and an omega too. His sunflower pheromones were the only thing that seemed to calm him, the scent grounding Seungmin’s first heat. The room was heavy with the mingling of their pheromones—Seungmin’s water lilies and Jeongin’s sunflowers.
All Jeongin did was gently wiping the sweat from Seungmin’s fevered skin with a cool, damp cloth, then changed the soaked sheets, tending to Seungmin’s slick with a care that eased his discomfort.
“You’re okay, Your Highness,” Jeongin murmured, his voice like a soft balm against Seungmin’s raw nerves.
As Seungmin’s heat began to subside, he blinked, still hazy with the remnants of the feverish haze. His senses were still clouded, but he could catch the scent of his own pheromones, the soft, heady fragrance of water lilies. Without thinking, the word slipped from him.
“Funny,” he whispered hoarsely.
Jeongin tilted his head, his expression puzzled. “What’s so funny, Your Highness?”
Seungmin averted his gaze, his voice soft and vulnerable. “How my pheromones give off water lilies. Doesn’t really fit me, though.” He paused, his heart sinking. “Water lilies... they’re so beautiful. But I... I don’t deserve something like that. Not with everything I’ve become.”
He had been raised to fit the mold, to embody the ideals of the crown. His true self—kind, always quick to smile—was buried beneath layers of the Queen Dowager’s rules. She had been explicit in her commands: he was not to show weakness. She insisted he carry himself with pride, his chin held high like a majestic peacock. “When you walk, let the world see your greatness,” she often reminded him, correcting his posture with a firm grip on his shoulders.
Jeongin’s hand gently settled on Seungmin’s shoulder, a quiet gesture of reassurance. His voice, steady and warm, carried the kind of softness Seungmin hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years. “Your Highness, your pheromones are part of who you are. They reflect your essence. Don’t let your own doubts make you forget that you’re more than enough. You’re more than the weight of your crown, more than the weight of your past. You’re a person, and you deserve kindness... even from yourself.”
“Yeah... And I never thought I’d present as an omega, Jeongin,” his words filled with pain. “Being an omega... I’m just gonna be a womb that carries babies. That’s all I am, right?” He paused, his chest tightening. “I want to do so much more... but it feels impossible with how Queen Dowager so set on tradition, I don’t think she’ll ever let me live my own life. If I were an alpha, I’d have a chance, but since I'm an omega now... I have no say in anything.” His voice cracked as he continued, “It feels like my life isn’t even mine anymore.” A tear escaped, and he wiped it away quickly, embarrassed by his weakness.
“Your Highness,” Jeongin said softly. “You’re kind and capable of so much more...” He paused as he shouldn’t speak so freely as he was only a low servant—but seeing Seungmin like this, he couldn’t stay silent.
“I... I don’t know if it’s my place to say this, but I believe you deserve to do anything you want—anything you dream of,” he continued quietly, “I know it feels impossible right now. I know how heavy everything must seem. But I believe you’ll find a way. I know you will.” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. “I’ll follow you, no matter where that is. If you fall, I’ll help you stand. I might just be a lowly servant, but I’ll give everything I have to support you, Your Highness. Because I believe in you. I always have.”
Now twenty-three, Seungmin felt tears well up at the memory, quickly brushing them away with the back of his hand. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have someone like Jeongin by his side, someone who believed in him when he couldn’t believe in himself.
His breath came in soft, visible puffs—he shivered as the night chilling him to the bone. Yet, he didn’t close the window or reach for anything warm—only a thin layer of silk clung to his slender form. He wished his mother were here, wrapping him in a woolen blanket like she used to.
He let himself grow cold, as though punishing himself for wanting things he could never have. He missed his parents to the core of his being, wishing with every part of him that they were still alive. He yearned for freedom and love.
Leaning his head against the window frame, he closed his eyes.
Love… Laughter, and love—those were luxuries he could never afford. And so, he had learned to bury his emotions, to wear the mask of perfection the Queen Dowager demanded. But there had been one light close enough to touch. Jisung.
He met Jisung when he was nineteen. A bright boy and he had a heart as wide as the sky and a smile that warms Seungmin’s frozen world. He was the Duke’s son. They’d met by chance when Jisung’s father brought him to the palace. At first, Seungmin had kept his distance, wary of a stranger’s presence. But Jisung’s warmth melted through his cold walls, little by little, like spring thawing winter’s frost.
They’d sit by the lotus pond, throwing pebbles into the water as Jisung’s wild stories tumbled from his lips, telling his dreams. For a moment, Seungmin had believed he could be part of those dreams too.
But that dream had shattered like porcelain on marble.
The Queen Dowager had caught them once.
She’d summoned Seungmin and Jisung to the grand hall.
“You are not a common omega, Seungmin. You are royalty. Do you think you can sully our bloodline with a mere beta? Your foolishness ends today.”
She hadn’t stopped there. Turning her sharp gaze to Jisung, who stood staring at the floor, she spat her words like venom.
"You! You dare to dream above your station? If you remain by the Prince's side, the Duke will pay the price with his life."
Her words alone enough to drain all the warmth from Seungmin's body.
“If you value the Duke’s life, you will leave Seungmin and never come back. I will not have a mere beta staining the royal family’s name.”
Seungmin had been dragged away from Jisung’s side, his cries ignored. That night, the Queen Dowager ordered stricter measures. No more unaccompanied walks in the garden. No more tea parties. No more glimpses of Jisung.
But one night, the familiar rustle of leaves by the balcony startled Seungmin. Heart pounding, he hurried to the window and froze. Jisung stood there, illuminated by the soft moonlight, a bittersweet smile on his face.
"You're insane," Seungmin whispered.
"Maybe," Jisung replied.
They sat together on the floor of Seungmin’s chamber. Jisung took Seungmin’s hand, his thumb brushing softly over his knuckles. “I want to sail the seas, explore new lands, see the world beyond what we know here. There’s so much out there, and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to experience it all.”
Seungmin felt a lump form in his throat at the thought of Jisung leaving, but he didn’t pull away. He gripped Jisung’s hand tighter, as though holding on to the last thread of what they still had.
The silence heavy around them. Finally Jisung spoke again, "We’re… a match made in heaven, but…. we’re on earth. And just because it didn’t work doesn’t mean we aren’t real."
Seungmin looked at him, his vision blurring with tears that threatened to fall.
"The love we felt, the memories we made—those were real. Just because it ended doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. My world will feel different without you in it."
They didn’t say goodbye aloud. The weight of those word were too much to bear. Instead, Jisung leaned forward, and their lips met in a kiss that said everything their words could not. It was tender, bittersweet, and final.
When Jisung finally pulled away, he lingered for a moment, his forehead resting against Seungmin’s. Then, without another word, Jisung slipped away into the night.
As the echo of Jisung’s retreating footsteps faded into the still night, Seungmin closed the balcony door, the taste of their last kiss lingering on his lips.
He sat down at his desk, he simply stared at the blank page of his diary, the quill poised in his hand. Then, with a deep breath, he began to write.
Some people are only meant to be part of our story for a little while.
His grip on the quill tightened as tears blurred his vision.
Sometimes, people come into our lives to teach us things...
Seungmin swallowed the lump in his throat and wrote the final words, his heart aching with every stroke of the quill.
He taught me love. He taught me how it feels to laugh freely, to dream without boundaries, and to feel cherished just for being myself... Thank you, Han Jisung.
Seungmin remembered scribbling those words into his diary. Since then, the loneliness had only grown. His gaze remained fixed on the moon hanging in the night sky.
“An omega of your stature must wed a strong and powerful alpha. ”
The Queen Dowager had declared so many times that he grew sick of hearing it.
“No ordinary alpha will do.”
Her words haunted him still.
"If only I weren’t an omega…" he muttered to the moon. The words tasted bitter on his tongue. He’d never dared say it aloud before, not even in the privacy of his chambers. But tonight, under the watchful gaze of the moon, he allowed himself the indulgence of honesty.
His life was like a bird in a gilded cage, wings clipped. He wished he had been born as an alpha, so he could choose his own path, love whom he wanted, live how he wanted.
But he wasn’t. He was an omega, and omegas — though born into royalty — had no right to such dreams. They were meant to be dolls, obedient and serve as mere wombs to bear children. His days were filled with endless lessons on playing the piano beautifully, singing perfectly. It suffocated him. He didn’t want to be admired from afar like a portrait hanging on a wall. He was capable of so much more. Like alphas, he longed to be free, to ride across the open plains on horseback, chasing prey with the rush of the hunt in his blood. He dreamed of debating politics, wielding words like weapons, and shaping the world with his own hands. That’s what he loved. That’s what he craved. But it was a world forever out of reach — because no one ever gave him the chance. He was just as much a prisoner as any commoner locked behind iron bars.
A deep sigh escaped his chest, his shoulders slumping under the weight of his overwhelming thoughts. Exhaustion pressed down on him, and he decided to hit the sack. He closed the window and sank into his bed, pulling the covers tightly around him for comfort. As he stared at the ceiling, his deep thoughts returned, What would it take for me to be free?
After a while, his eyes grew heavier and his thoughts began to fade, slipping away little by little. Eventually, sleep came, gentle and undemanding. In the stillness of the room, Seungmin finally let go, allowing his mind to rest.
❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈❈
The soft knock on the door was followed by the swift sound of the door creaking open. "Your Highness," came Jeongin’s voice. He entered the room, approaching the bed.
"Time to wake up, Your Highness," Jeongin said, his eyes glancing at Seungmin’s still form beneath the covers.
Seungmin stirred slowly, groaning softly as the remnants of sleep clung to him.
"Good morning, Your Highness" Jeongin continued, kneeling beside the bed and carefully brushing Seungmin's bangs away from his face. "Queen Dowager has requested your presence. She expects you soon."
Seungmin blinked up at him, his gaze clouded with sleep. "Already?" His voice was hoarse from slumber, and he rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Jeongin smiled, unable to hide his fondness for the young master. "Yes, Your Highness. She’s awaiting you." he added, "I’ve already prepared your bath."
With a small groan, Seungmin sat up with Jeongin’s assistance, letting himself be guided out of bed. Jeongin stayed close, steadying him as they moved toward the large bathing area where steam rose invitingly from the warm water.
Once there, Jeongin began to undress Seungmin with practiced care. He kept his movements respectful, his gaze focused on the task rather than lingering. His fingers moved deftly, undoing the ties of Seungmin’s robe and helping him shrug out of the fabric. The robe slipped off Seungmin’s shoulders, and fell down, revealing the delicate frame of Seungmin’s body. His waist was small, his hips gently curved. His pale skin easily flushed pink at the slightest change in emotion or sensitivity. His body was undeniably beautiful. It wasn’t just his appearance that drew people in—his pheromones, subtle yet potent, seemed to captivate anyone nearby. All alphas, even betas and omegas, found themselves drawn to him.
Jeongin kept his gaze respectfully low. He was well aware of the power Seungmin held, the way he could make even the most composed individuals lose themselves in his allure. But to him, Seungmin was more than just his beauty. He was the young master who had been through so much, who didn’t deserve to be reduced to mere looks.
"You always make things so complicated, Your Highness," Jeongin teased lightly, folding the discarded robe neatly. "If you didn’t sleep like a stone, I wouldn’t have to do all this for you."
Seungmin scoffed, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. "You’re paid to do this. Besides, you should feel honored—everyone else would kill for the chance to see me naked."
"Oh, please. Spare me the theatrics, Your Highness. I’m here for one thing and one thing only—the gold you pay me." Despite his words, Jeongin helped Seungmin step into the bath, though Seungmin wasn’t about to let the jab slide.
"You ungrateful little thing," Seungmin muttered, narrowing his eyes at Jeongin. "When you were just a sniveling little bread crumb, you swore you'd follow me for life. And now? You’re only loyal to the gold."
Jeongin grinned, guiding Seungmin to settle in the warm water. As Seungmin sank into the water, the heat immediately started to soothe the tension in his muscles. He let out a long, satisfied sigh . "Haaa... feels good," he murmured, closing his eyes.
"Perfect, isn’t it?" Jeongin asked smugly, standing nearby with a towel draped over his arm.
Seungmin leaned back against the edge of the bath, conceding with a lazy wave of his hand. "Alright, fine. I’ll admit, you did good this time."
"Thank you, Your Highness. Now, about that gold… People change, you know. I’ll need lots of gold if I’m going to afford all the bread I’ve got my eye on."
Seungmin sighed dramatically, mocking irritation. "Same old, same old. You never quit, do you?"
"And you," Jeongin shot back with a grin, "sounded like an old man just now with that sigh. Maybe I should start calling you Grandpa instead."
Seungmin glared at him, though it lacked any real menace. "Very funny, Jeongin," he muttered.
"It’s true! You’re always sighing."
Seungmin huffed, "I’ll tell the Queen Dowager you called me old," Seungmin shot back, his tone light despite the threat. He only ever let himself relax and acted like this around Jeongin. He didn’t really have many close friends. Not because he didn’t want any of them, but the Queen Dowager’s strict rules left little room for such connections. Jeongin made him feel less lonely.
"At your command, Grandpa Highness."
Seungmin splashed a small wave of water at Jeongin, earning a laugh from the younger boy.
"Your aim is terrible, Your Highness."
"I must’ve missed on purpose."
Jeongin said nothing more, instead picking up a soft cloth and dipping it into the warm water. He knelt beside the tub and he began to rub Seungmin’s back. His touch was gentle, as though he was handling the finest porcelain.
"You know," Jeongin started, his tone calm but teasing, "for someone who always complains about my ‘lack of respect,’ you seem to enjoy my service an awful lot."
Seungmin’s eyes closed, a content sigh slipping past his lips as the tension in his shoulders melted away under Jeongin’s touch. "It’d be embarrassing for you if I didn’t enjoy it."
"Ungrateful as always. I’m starting to think you’ve forgotten how lucky you are to have me here. Imagine if someone else had to deal with your attitude."
"Let them try."
Jeongin paused to rinse the cloth before resuming his careful motions. "Your Highness, I think they’d run screaming after dealing with your morning moods. You’re lucky I haven’t quit… yet. "
"Maybe you should," Seungmin quipped back.
"I won’t quit, Your Highness. Never." His voice was sincere, then Jeongin continued with a small grin. "Because I’m just here for the gold—and the bread I’ll buy with it."
Seungmin snorted at the bluntness, a real laugh escaping him. "You really have no loyalty, do you?" he teased, but there was a softness in his gaze as he looked at Jeongin—a quiet acknowledgment of how the younger had always been by his side. Despite the teasing, Seungmin felt a deep sense of gratitude for Jeongin’s unwavering presence, the kind of loyalty that didn’t need to be spoken, only felt.
Jeongin shrugged nonchalantly, but his hands were still steady as he worked. "Loyalty’s overrated. Bread, though? That’s something worth sticking around for."
The playful exchange continued until Jeongin finished drying Seungmin off and helped him into his garments.
"There," Jeongin said, taking a step back to inspect his work. "Perfect, as always."
Seungmin caught his reflection in the mirror—the perfect image the palace demanded. He was everything the Queen Dowager had molded him to be: an omega prince, impeccably dressed to showcase his beauty. At night, the Queen Dowager would check on him—inspecting his teeth, his hands, his hips. She would say, "You have good hips. You’ll make lots of babies." Even the bitter ancient medicine he despised had become an unavoidable routine, all for the sake of keeping his womb healthy. The thought soured his pheromones, his breath quickening with unease.
He met Jeongin's eyes in the mirror. "Jeongin...."
"Yes, Your Highness?" Jeongin responded, sensing the change in Seungmin’s demeanor.
Seungmin hesitated for a moment, "Put the scent blockers on for me."
This time, Jeongin didn’t argue. He simply nodded and went to retrieve the blockers, moving quickly to do as Seungmin asked.
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The morning air in the grand dining hall was crisp and formal, the long table set with immaculate precision. Seungmin walked in with Jeongin trailing just a step behind, the soft tap of his polished shoes on the stone floor echoing through the room. The Queen Dowager was already seated at the head of the table, her posture perfect, her eyes sharp as they met Seungmin's.
"Good morning, Your Majesty," Jeongin murmured, bowing before stepping back, allowing Seungmin to approach the table.
Seungmin offered a small, tight smile in return, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He walked slowly and he settled into the seat across from the Queen Dowager, the weight of her gaze felt heavier than the layers of silk that draped over his body.
The Queen Dowager didn’t waste time on pleasantries. "I trust you had a restful night?" Her voice was smooth, like velvet, but there was an edge to it that Seungmin had come to recognize over the years.
"Yes, Grandmother," he replied softly, but his words were lost in the quiet hum of the room as the servants began placing various dishes before him.
The food was extravagant as always—delicate pastries, soft eggs, perfectly roasted meats, and a variety of fruits from the royal orchards. But the rich smells did little to stir Seungmin’s appetite. He sat there, absentmindedly pushing his food around with his fork.
The Queen Dowager's eyes never left him as she delicately sipped from her goblet, her gaze calculating. "There’s a matter I wish to discuss with you," she finally said. "Your future."
"My future?" Seungmin asked cautiously.
"I have arranged your marriage. A family of suitable prestige—someone who matches us."
Seungmin’s eyes widened in surprise. It was far earlier than he had anticipated, catching him completely off guard. Quickly, he masked his shock behind a calm facade. He silently thanked the scent blockers Jeongin had applied earlier. He knew that if it weren’t for them, the sourness of his pheromones—would have been impossible to conceal.
A marriage to someone he did not know.
"Who... who will I be marrying?"
The Queen Dowager placed her goblet down with deliberate precision, meeting his gaze.
"The King of Paelsia."
"The King of Paelsia?" Seungmin repeated. He leaned forward slightly, his fingers gripping the edge of the table. "The one rumored to be cruel? The one who does nothing but kill?" The thought alone sent a chill down Seungmin's spine "You did not just agree to this marriage," he said.
"Do not let baseless rumors cloud your judgment, Seungmin. This alliance is essential—for you and for our kingdom."
"Essential?" Seungmin echoed bitterly, the words slipping from his lips. His gaze still met hers, his eyes flashing with a rare, burning defiance. "To send me to a man who…" His voice faltered for a moment, but his anger surged, his fists clenching at his sides. "I didn’t even ask for a husband! But If I must have one—if I must leave my home, my language, my life—then it cannot be for someone like him. A man I do not know, a man who knows nothing but cruelty."
The Queen Dowager's expression remained composed, "Seungmin," she began, "this is not a choice, and you will not act like a spoiled child."
Seungmin stood abruptly from his chair. He couldn't bear to stay in the suffocating atmosphere any longer. The anger within him propelled him forward.
"Seungmin, sit down," the Queen Dowager’s voice rang out, firm and commanding. "You’ve barely touched your food."
"I’ve lost my appetite," Seungmin snapped, his voice taut with frustration, still not turning to face her.
“Do not think that by acting this way, I will withdraw the marriage,” she warned, her tone unwavering. “The decision has been made by The Moon.”
For the first time in years, Seungmin didn’t swallow his anger in silence. All his life, he had followed her instructions—do this, don’t do that, sit like this, speak like that. Every move was dictated, every decision made for him. He had never dared to question it. But now, standing before her, something in him cracked. Slowly, he turned back to face her, his jaw tight, “The Moon…” he began, his voice breaking like glass. “The Moon again? You worship it like it has the right to decide my fate.” His breath hitched, and he took a shaky step forward. “But it’s not just The Moon, is it? It’s you. You took the quill from my hand… Writng my life without asking and now…” His voice cracked fully, his anger splintering into despair. “Now I’m left trying to read a story I never wanted, a story I can’t even call mine.”
With that, he turned on his heel and walked away, the sound of his steps echoing in the vast dining hall. He didn’t look back and made his way toward the palace gardens, to calm his racing thoughts.
Behind him, hurried footsteps followed. “Your Highness,” Jeongin’s familiar voice called out, laced with concern.
Without stopping, Seungmin replied, “Leave me alone, Jeongin. I need some time… alone.”
Jeongin hesitated, then quickened his pace to catch up. “At least wear this, Your Highness. It’s very cold out there,” he said.
Seungmin paused, just long enough for Jeongin to drape the heavy winter cloak over his shoulders. But as he stood there, hushed whispers from a group of palace maids reached his ears.
“…did you hear? They say Lord Jisung has already…”
“…yes, I heard it’s been months now. They kept it secret from everyone…”
“…it’s just so sad, isn’t it? They were each other’s first love… and now, here Prince Seungmin is, being forced into an arranged marriage with the King of Blood…”
“…I heard the King of Blood is cruel and power-hungry. What a fate…”
“…It’s truly a pity. Prince Seungmin is still so young, and yet his life has already been decided for him.…”
The words hit Seungmin like a cold wave, crashing over him with a force that stole his breath.
Jeongin, having overheard the maids' gossip as well, his expression filled with concern. “Your Highness?” His voice was gentle but full of worry. “Are you okay, Your Highness?”
Seungmin blinked, “I’m fine,” he said quietly, “Do not worry about me.” Just then, he left Jeongin behind....
The soft hush of falling snow blanketed the palace gardens, muting every sound until the world seemed to breathe in white and silver stillness. Flakes floated lazily from the gray sky, catching in the bare branches of trees and frosting the stone pathways beneath. His breath was a visible puff of warmth that dissipated into the cold.
Seungmin’s thick fur trim framed his face, its warmth shielding him from the icy winds that whispered through the garden. His boots crunched softly against the powdery snow with each step. Despite the weight of the cloak, the chill seeped into his bones, but he paid it no mind. The cold bit into his skin, but he didn't flinch. It felt right, like an ache he'd grown used to.
He came to a stop to an old, grand piano stationed at the heart of the garden, its dark wood polished to a shine that even the snowflakes couldn’t dull. The piano sat under a gazebo-like structure, ivy vines frozen in place. It had been his sanctuary since childhood, a place where he’d run to when the weight of the world felt too heavy.
A layer of snow had gathered on its surface, but Seungmin’s gloved hand brushed it away, revealing the smooth wood beneath. He took a breath, slow and deep before sitting down on the bench, his cloak pooling around him. His fingers hovered over the keys.
Then, the first press of a key cut through the stillness like a crack in glass. He exhaled slowly, his breath fogging up before him, and then his fingers began to move. Each note that followed was clear and smooth, carrying a wistful melody into the quiet air. It was his mother’s favorite piece. She’d always sit with him on the bench, her fingers guiding his small hands.
The melody poured out of him, his fingers gliding effortlessly across the keys. The music carried his thoughts back to a time before his parents were taken from him. Back to a time when he had the freedom to dream of his own future. Then, another image came unbidden—flashes of the blood. Since then, the Queen Dowager had held him tightly, her grip firm and cold like iron bars. It was nothing like his mother’s embrace.
No dreams of his own. No choices of his own. Not even love.
Jisung —the one he’d loved with the naive heart of youth.
Queen Dowager had separated them, and Jisung had sailed away, chasing his wild dreams while Seungmin had stayed behind, tethered to the palace like a bird in a gilded cage. Word had reached him by the whispers of palace maids: Jisung had married another omega in a distant port. He didn’t cry. Instead, he felt a sense of relief. Jisung deserved someone better—someone who wasn’t as lost as he was.
The music’s pace slowed, each note drawn out like a breathless sigh, the melody hung in the air like the last breath of a dying flame.
Soon, he was gonna marry someone he had never met. Someone he never loved. One rumored to be cruel.
Would his life always be like this? Always so unhappy.
Seungmin’s hands rested on the keys, fingers curled slightly as his head bowed forward. A single tear slid down his cheek, followed by another, warm against the cold of his skin. He didn’t wipe them away. They carved twin trails down his face before being absorbed by the soft fur of his sleeve.
Somewhere above him, unnoticed, a crow perched on the branch of a tree nearby. Its frame barely moved despite the icy winds and its red eyes watched him, unblinking.
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The early light painted the sky of Lemuria in soft hues. Seungmin stood at the palace’s inner entrance, where the ornate double doors opened onto a sweeping staircase that led down toward the awaiting carriage. Beside him, the Queen Dowager stood tall, her expression unreadable.
The silence between them hung thick, each waiting for the other to speak. At last, the Queen Dowager turned slightly, "So, not even a word to your grandmother?"
Seungmin didn’t say anything to that.
The Queen Dowager’s eyes searched his face, murmuring, "The carriage awaits, it will take you to Paelsia, and everything you’ll need for the journey has already been taken care of. I even sent hundreds of royal guards to ensure your safety. Better not to repeat the mistake of the past. You know how your parents were killed."
Seungmin’s lips curled into a bitter smile, "You need not go to such measures, Grandmother," he replied, "You send me to this man—The one who wades in rivers of blood. The one whose name is inked in death. Not a King of Paelsia, but a King of Blood. Who knows? The moment I step into his castle. I may join the whispers of those he’s felled. So spare me your kindness. For in all my life, you’ve never shown me one."
The Queen Dowager’s expression remained unmoved, but a flicker of something crossed her features— regret , perhaps, “You will endure, as you always have. Do not stray from the path laid before you. Your responsibilities cannot be cast aside so easily.”
Responsibilities. Seungmin knew exactly what she meant. His role, as he’d always understood it, was clear—he was meant to marry, bear children, and produce heirs for the throne. His body—an omega's body, was merely a womb, a means to carry the bloodline forward.
For a fleeting moment, he let himself imagine freedom: casting off the title of “omega prince” like a snake shedding its skin, running far, far away. Barefoot in the snow, the wind biting his cheeks, the wind in his hair, his heart racing with the joy of choosing his own path. No rules. No expectations. Just him.
But the weight of reality dragged him back, as a hand, unexpected and strangely gentle, rested on his shoulder.
“You think me heartless,” she said, “Perhaps I am. But I did what was necessary to keep you alive, to keep you safe. I gave you walls to protect you, even if they felt like a prison.”
Seungmin didn’t flinch under her hand. He spent years of silence and obedience, his anger, long buried and carefully contained, finally surged to the surface.
"The time when I was all alone, my parents gone, I still remember stepping into your palace. The light almost blinded me—So bright, so dazzling, a fortress of gold. But the longer I stared, the more I saw. Cracks in the walls, illusions in the shine. And I, too, became a part of its bricks." Seungmin gritted his teeth, his voice dropping to a murmur, “I hate what you did to me."
The Queen Dowager removed her hand from Seungmin's shoulder and turned her gaze away, refusing to meet his eyes. "You should go now," she murmured, her voice low. "Before the weather worsens."
Snowflakes settled on Seungmin’s hair and shoulders. He huffed before replying, "Sure." Then, his tone sharp with sarcasm, he added, "I expected no less from you, Grandmother." He paused, savoring his final words, "Or should I call you the Queen of Ice, who freezes all she touches?"
He bowed deeply, a sense of gratitude for her raising him—perhaps the only thing she’d ever given him. Straightening, he turned on his heel and walked toward the carriage.
Behind him, the Queen Dowager retreated through the palace doors without a backward glance.
Seungmin’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. Everything would be so much easier if I could just hate you. I hate what you did to me, but I don’t hate you... Grandmother. He admitted silently to himself.
As Seungmin approached the carriage, a familiar face came into view. The royal guard who had saved him from assassins years ago, stood beside the carriage door, arms crossed and a faint smirk playing on his lips. Snowflakes dotted his dark hair. “Looking all gloomy again, Your Highness?” that royal guard teased, his tone light but warm. “Should I give you a hug so you don’t sulk the whole way?”
Seungmin rolled his eyes but relented with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, that might actually help, Changbin hyung.”
Changbin unfolded his arms and stepped forward, wrapping Seungmin in a firm embrace. His biceps enveloped him, solid and reassuring. “You’ll be alright, Seungmin. You’ve got this,” Changbin murmured, his hand gently rubbing Seungmin’s back. “Take care of yourself.”
Seungmin nuzzled into Changbin’s neck, inhaling the familiar warm chocolate' scent.
Changbin chuckled softly, “I won’t be there to watch over you 24/7, 365 days a year—because you’ve already got your prince charming for that.”
Seungmin stiffened slightly at the mention, pulling back with a huff. “I’m not sure about that. Would I still be alive, though?”
Changbin’s brows knitted together. “Seungmin,” he sighed heavily, “please don’t say that.”
Seungmin hummed softly, looking away for a moment before meeting Changbin’s gaze. “You’re right. I shouldn’t say what I say,” he admitted. Then, with a faint smile, he added, “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here. No matter what, I’m going to live my life—not as a shadowed path, but as a field of wildflowers, where even the thorns have stories worth telling.”
Changbin’s frown eased into something softer, “Good,” he said quietly. “Don’t forget that.”
Seungmin leaned in close, his lips barely a whisper away from Changbin’s ear, his hand instinctively rising to shield his words as he whispered, “And don’t worry… I’ll keep it a secret. You taught me horse riding behind the stables.”
Straightening up, he added, “Even Jeongin doesn’t know” a playful smile tugging at his lips. His cheeks were blooming with a soft pink hue, kissed by the winter cold. With the snowflakes settling on his dark hair and his own pheromones of water lilies trailing in the air, he looked ethereal—perfect, even in the bleakness of winter.
Changbin stared, momentarily taken aback by the sight. He cleared his throat, snapping himself out of his daze. “Of course, you should keep it a secret,” he muttered, “If the Queen Dowager found out, my head would roll.”
Seungmin’s laugh was soft and genuine, warming the air between them.
And then, Changbin extended his hand, and without hesitation, Seungmin took it. Feeling the warmth of his grip.
“Thank you, Changbin-hyung,” Seungmin said. To him, Changbin was more than a protector—he was family, a brother in all but blood. “I'm gonna miss you, hyung,”
Changbin’s smile softened as he helped Seungmin into the carriage. “I’m gonna miss you too,” he said, “And remember, I’m always just one letter away.”
As Seungmin settled into the plush seat, Jeongin quietly entered the carriage and sat beside him.
The thought of venturing into foreign lands, where unfamiliar faces awaited and even his future husband was a stranger, had weighed on Seungmin’s heart since yesterday, and he couldn’t sleep last night. He was glad Jeongin was here with him. The journey would have felt unbearably lonely without his presence.
"It'll be alright, Your Highness," Jeongin said, as he released his most calming pheromones.
Seungmin smiled back, grateful. "Thank you, Jeongin. I don’t know what I’d do without you."
Jeongin reached out, offering a quiet reassurance by placing a hand on Seungmin's. "I’ll be with you, always, Your Highness. You’re never alone."
The carriage lurched forward, its slow, steady rhythm soon becoming a familiar lull. The soft crunch of wheels against the snow-covered road mingled with the faint creak of wood and the distant howl of the cold wind. Outside, the world blurred into a wash of white, snowflakes drifting gently from the sky.
Seungmin watched for a while, his eyes tracing the drifting snow. As he gazed, a black crow appeared, darting through the flurry. It flew close, its dark feathers stark against the pale backdrop. For a brief moment, it seemed to hover at his level, just beyond the frosted window. Seungmin instinctively raised a hand, his fingertips brushing the cold glass.
The crow lingered, almost as if it were watching him, before suddenly beating its wings and soaring upward, disappearing into the white expanse above.
Seungmin leaned back, “The crow,” he began. “It flew so close. For a moment, I thought it was watching me.”
Jeongin turned his head slightly. “A crow?” he repeated, his tone contemplative. “Some say they’re just birds, nothing more. But my father used to say that crows sometimes carry unseen eyes.” He offered a small smile.
“Unseen eyes…” Seungmin murmured under his breath, a faint shiver running through him as the crow’s dark feathers lingered in his mind.
After a moment, Seungmin let his head rest lightly on Jeongin’s shoulder
The gentle rhythm of the carriage and Jeongin’s comforting pheromones lulled Seungmin into a haze of quiet warmth. His eyelids grew heavy, and before he realized it, sleep claimed him quietly, his breathing soft and even as the snow-covered world continued to drift by….
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A few minutes ago
Inside her private office, the Queen Dowager walked to her desk. The room was modest by royal standards, with high shelves lined with books and documents, a large window overlooking the snowy palace grounds, and a polished oak desk where royal decrees lay neatly arranged. She settled into the high-backed chair behind the desk.
A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. “Enter,” she called, her voice calm.
A man dressed in the deep blue and silver livery of Lemuria’s royal house—her trusted butler, Elias—approached her, “Your Majesty,” he began, bowing low. “Won’t you see the young master off properly? It may be a long time before he returns.”
The Queen Dowager’s eyes didn’t lift from the letter she was sealing with her signet ring. “He will do just fine,” she said, her tone devoid of emotion. She set the letter aside and folded her hands on the desk. “Leaving Lemuria is the best choice for him.”
“I believe in your wisdom, Your Majesty, but I must ask… why arrange a marriage between the young master and the King of Paelsia? His reputation…” Elias trailed off, choosing his words carefully. “It is not one to inspire comfort.”
The Queen Dowager finally looked up, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I wonder about that myself, Elias. The King of Blood is no ordinary man. When he demanded my grandson’s hand, I refused without hesitation. But then he made his terms clear.” Her expression was almost amused. “He threatened to burn Lemuria if I did not agree to his proposal.”
Elias’s eyes widened briefly before he composed himself. “He dared to threaten you, Your Majesty?”
“Dared and succeeded,” she replied, a chill in her tone. “But that was not all. He swore to deliver the heads of those who assassinated my son and daughter-in-law. He guaranteed their deaths—if I allowed the marriage.”
Elias’s jaw tightened as he processed her words. “And you believe him capable of such a task?”
“Capability is not in question,” the Queen Dowager said, her voice sharp. “He has the means, the power, and most importantly, the resolve. His ambition is unmatched, Elias. A dangerous man, yes, but one who can be useful to us. Lemuria’s future depends on alliances forged in fire, not words.”
Elias nodded, though his face betrayed his unease. “And the young master? Do you believe he will forgive you for this, Your Majesty?”
The Queen Dowager’s gaze shifted to the snowy landscape visible through the tall window, her usually cold gaze replaced by a flicker of something unspoken in her eyes. “He does not have to forgive me if he does not wish to.”
Elias inclined his head, his voice quieter now. “As you say, Your Majesty.”
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