Chapter Text
The mirror highlighted his countenance, his eyes wide as he tried to identify any imperfections. He ran his fingertips along the side of his face, ghosting over the skin on his temple down to his chin. His ashy blue hair was skillfully styled over his eyebrows, effectively shielding his forehead from exposure to the outside world. Diamond shaped eyes graced his face, curving gently at their center to form a slope more breathtaking than those of the Surface World above them. Spaced perfectly, his gentle nose led attention to his most striking feature-his lips. An irresistible combination of a thin, defined upper and full, pink lower that were captivating when he so much as breathed.
Soobin sighed heavily, feeling the weight of a thousand daggers pierce his skin. He may have looked handsome, but the water was particularly cold today. He felt as though he might freeze before he could even make it down the inaugural hallway. He knew of the tradition, decreasing the artificial temperature of the city on the night they faced their subjects. Testing the will of the heir to see if they were ready. Age may be an indicator of when the power shift was to occur, but nothing but the maturity and sheer will of the trainee could determine whether he or she would officially take the crown. He would not be the first to disappoint.
Ten minutes, he heard the voice in his head say, steady in its tone. He knew the voice well, probably just as well as his own. If a thousand people were talking at once, with overlayed static crackling and a bomb exploding in the background, he would still be able to distinguish that voice with pinpoint accuracy. It had commanded his entire life, dictated his schedule, activities, and friends. He supposed he was expected to find comfort in it, and maybe he did, once. But the world could be cruel, and all Soobin felt was the overwhelming urge to grind his teeth into dust.
Soobin removed his fingers from his face and moved them to rest on the embroidered edges of his jacket. It was a piece of art, a cream-colored beauty that clung to his muscular arms and shoulders. It hung open in the front, resting on his hips to reveal a lace-adorned tunic underneath. The jacket sleeves were plain, but the front and wrists were decorated with thin rope and buttons to create a simple, but eye-catching interweaving of loops. From his shoulder pads hung loose pieces of yarn, the frills adding to the ensemble’s already raging elegance. To complement, he wore fabric-patched white pants and matching white boots. His eyes were painted with hints of orange and gray to make him look extra regal. Attire fit for a king.
A king.
“You’re going to be king,” he said to the face staring blankly at him.
Soobin felt his pulse quicken at the word. He had always liked the way he looked, effortlessly handsome even without anything fancy designed to enhance his appearance. He was born with the face of a prince, which he supposed was fitting. Sometimes Soobin believed the extra effort was all a bit much, but he was powerless to stop it, especially with the voice in his head. Sometimes he believed its primary purpose was to remind him he was never in control of his own life.
He tore his eyes from his reflective prison and glanced at the shell clock on the wall, its hands pointing unnervingly close to 12. Midnight. The first day of October, inauguration day. This would be the first one in close to fifty years, as his parents bore him extremely late in their fertility window. His father claimed it was because his mother had had trouble bearing children, but Soobin knew the truth, that he was hungry to stay in power for as long as he realistically could. His father was always one to create loopholes and cheat death.
Soobin respected the city’s law on the matter. Mandating the first-born child of the current ruler to take over the seat at age 21 was brilliant, as it would prevent anyone from ruling too long, even if they did wait a bit to have an heir. If no children were borne, they were automatically removed from the seat after 35 years of power. Then the highest-ranking lords convened to select a new ruler, who would then continue the succession tradition with their children. That said, the latter clause had never been enacted. The Choi family had ruled for the city’s entire quarter-century history, and Soobin’s father had ruled decently from what Soobin understood. The Locanen-Ostenich Sea’s three underwater kingdoms held a tentative but forceful peace, and their own was prospering. He smiled thinking about that.
So it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be king. He did, he had been trained for it his entire life. But Soobin was always one to lean into his introverted tendencies. It scared him to be pushed into such a provocative position in comparison to his usual preferences. But he was also fiercely loyal, and even if his father drove him insane, he loved his city and its people. He was confident they wanted him as ruler, so ruler he was going to become.
Five minutes, the voice barked again, and Soobin externally cringed. Thankfully there was no surveillance in this room. It was one of the few in which Soobin had found refuge from his childhood. He owed a lot to the room, especially its shell clock. He couldn’t begin to guess how much time he had spent staring at that machinery, hiding from his instructors and father and the voice in his head, almost making its hands move faster from sheer will. The pale blue walls somehow stood out despite the water swirling in his surroundings, and he found himself smiling at his memories in the room. He had never allowed another living soul into his private reading chambers, and even though he had always been alone, those were the happiest memories of his life.
Three minutes! Get onto the platform, NOW!! Soobin considered screaming back, or simply not following the command, but he knew the consequences would be drastic. Besides, he was ready. He was quite literally born for this day.
The heir took a deep breath. Life was full of intricacies, details that often seem insignificant and easy to ignore. But if Soobin was grateful for anything from his training, it was his ability to slow down time in his head. Those intricacies were easier to handle if you could convince yourself to breathe, to process, to think for a moment, and see how they contributed to the greater whole. Without those little moments, what was a life? As such, Soobin took everything seriously and always considered the outcome before the action. Although seemingly more complicated, to him, the result was a far simpler life.
He didn’t make mistakes. Ever. He couldn’t afford to. Especially not now, on the eve of becoming king.
The young heir of 21 took one last longing glance around his refuge, his private sanctuary laying bare for his eyes only. He wasn’t sure how much time he would be permitted to spend in the space once he was king, as he knew his responsibilities would quadruple and free time would drastically diminish. Still, he made a mental note to try to visit at least once a month. He would feel disdain for himself if he let it fall into disarray. He owed it to the room and its inanimate occupants to keep it in pristine condition. It was the least he could do to try to repay the debt he had incurred.
Sighing once more, his heart balancing on the edge between childhood and adulthood, straddling the tightrope between innocence and wisdom, Soobin gripped the white doorknob and left his private chamber. He hadn’t been awarded pockets, for that was far too practical of a thing for a king to bear on his attire. Instead, he placed his hands behind his back as he walked. It was the regal stride he had been taught for years, once difficult as a child but now was second nature. The right foot always takes the first step, then the left takes a step two inches to the front and side of the right foot, and then the right foot moves again, mimicking the actions of the left foot. “Always walk from heel to toe, ensuring each muscle in your foot feels the ground. Become one with it, melt into the surface you are walking on. Pretend the ground is ice cream, and your foot is making a commanding imprint.”
“Can I have some ice cream, appa?” Soobin asked his father.
“No. Ice cream is not suitable for a king.”
“Why not?” Soobin was close to crying. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t have ice cream. He was only five, not even close to becoming king.
“One day you will understand, my son. Now, practice what I have taught you.”
His father’s voice echoed around his skull, nearly rattling his perfect stride. Soobin forcefully shook the memory of his lessons from his head. He wouldn’t allow his father to plant doubt in his head when he wasn’t even physically there. He could do this.
He resumed his quick stride, nearly jogging through the gilded hallways of the palace-his palace, in a few minutes-to make it to the king’s platform in time. His feet guided him smoothly, around left and right turns, up and down stairs, navigating the large building with ease. This was a well-worn path for Choi Soobin, heir to Salcarn. He had to know it as part of his training, to become king. He smiled at the effortlessness.
Thirty seconds. You’re going to do well, son.
Soobin rolled his eyes at his father’s words, grateful he couldn’t see the action. At least their mental link afforded him that privacy. He reached the king’s platform waiting to take him to the top of the city, not hesitating to step onto it. He clutched the railing to balance himself as it began ascending, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat as the contraption carried him up to the next chapter of his life.
Becoming king was going to be difficult, but Soobin was ready for the challenge.
****
The shoes on his feet were worn, holes threatening to burst around the entire perimeter of both sneakers. The 21-year-old was something of a cartographer, able to trace the interior of the shoes with nothing but his pinky toe. He had never put another pair near his feet. When they were teenagers, his older brother had once tried to convince him to wear another pair, but he just wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t. The shoes were the only thing he had that he felt were truly his, years of self-inflicted dirt, pen, and food stains littering the once clean white surface of the shoes’ exterior.
“It’s tomorrow. At midnight. No, not like tonight at midnight, but like, the day after today, at the end of that day’s midnight-shut the hell up and listen to me!”
Speaking of his older brother, he was busy yelling at someone at the other end of the table, probably to give them an order. His older brother was barely 23, yet he was the most commanding and unapproachable person in Doval’s Coven, feared by everyone except for the 21-year-old with the unique shoes. His brother’s rough exterior aside, he knew he would never intentionally do anything to hurt him.
“Beomgyu, can you come here, please?” His brother asked, his usually nasally voice croaky from yelling.
Beomgyu didn’t hesitate to move from his seat at the table, silently walking over to where his brother and one of his military generals were looking over documents.
“Yes, sire?”
“Hyunwoo and I were just discussing the plans for tomorrow, one more time,” Yeonjun said, his voice dripping with annoyance as he rolled his head to glare at the general. “Tomorrow. At midnight. As in, not today-”
“I understand, sire,” Hyunwoo said quietly, picking at one of the lapels on his purple jacket.
“Good,” Yeonjun huffed out. “Now, Beomgyu, my beloved baby brother-”
“I’m not a baby, sire-”
“Don’t interrupt me.” Yeonjun’s eyes were ablaze with something akin to anger, and Beomgyu had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Despite spending the majority of two decades with his brother, he still wasn’t sure how much of the aggression he displayed towards him was for show and was real. Regardless, Beomgyu knew he would probably be lectured, later, when they were alone.
“Beomgyu. What is your responsibility? You remember, correct?”
“I don’t, what’s happening tomorrow?”
When he saw Yeonjun’s nostrils flare, Beomgyu gulped and retracted his statement. He thought making a joke would maybe lighten the tension, but clearly he was mistaken. He nodded, affirming that he understood. Of course he knew his role. He had been trained his entire life for this day, hadn’t he? The day when Choi Soobin would come of age in Salcarn. A power shift so well-timed for the Dovalites that when they had first heard of it, Beomgyu’s father shifted Doval’s entire purpose to formulating a plan to infiltrate their enemies on the inauguration day. Beomgyu personally had always thought the plan had been a little overdramatic. In his eyes, pretending to be at peace and feigning friendship with the kingdom across the small stretch of sea was an unnaturally cruel tactic. He did, however, suppose Salcarn was doing the same thing, believing Doval was unaware of the prince’s plot against them. He also figured his line of semi-peaceful thinking was why Yeonjun had taken over after their father’s untimely death instead of him.
“I need verbal confirmation, brother.”
Beomgyu nodded again. “Tomorrow at midnight, the Salcarnians will formally accept Soobin as king. Twelve hours later, at noon, I am to join the inevitable throng of spectating Salcarnians once the prince is to be named king in a formal crowning ceremony. When the headwear is brought out to the public and the crowning officially begun, I am to set off a smoke bomb to create mass confusion and panic, thoroughly disrupting the poor prince’s ceremony,” he said, distaste filling his head at thoughts of the prince. Beomgyu may not have been as ruthless as Yeonjun, but he was definitely not a fan of Salcarn, either. Such was a product of belonging to warring kingdoms.
Yeonjun smiled, a warmthless expression Beomgyu knew all too well. “Correct. See, general, my brother is adequately prepared, just as I detailed. There is no need to worry. He will follow through on his responsibilities.”
Hyunwoo stared at Beomgyu warily, his eyes running up and down him as if trying to determine his dress size. Beomgyu suddenly felt like a piece of meat waiting to be cleaved. He looked down at his shoes, the familiarity bringing him something close to comfort.
Remember me, for I will you. The words were written in blue ink, although they had been smudged from years of further stains and inevitable water damage. Even though they lived underwater and ink was resilient, there was only so much technology could do to protect from the inevitable bastard of time. Beomgyu stared at the words, the first marking to ever grace his shoes when he was only seven years old. His memory of the person who had written it had faded, but he felt his heart stutter as he replayed the memory of that day in his head.
Hyunwoo coughed, bringing Beomgyu out of his trance. Can I help you? Beomgyu thought. But held his tongue. The last thing he needed was to piss off the lead of his brother’s military, especially not on the eve of the most important day in Doval’s history. This day really would determine the fate of their existence, Beomgyu realized, and he took a deep breath at the thought.
Talk about no pressure, right?
“My lord, you had better.” Hyunwoo’s voice made him snap his head back up. Beomgyu glared at him.
“There is no need to worry about me, general,” he said through gritted teeth. “I am perfectly capable of performing the task that has been assigned to me.” He forced a smile on his lips.
Hyunwoo reluctantly nodded, looking as if he wanted to protest, but he didn’t say anything else. Everyone in Doval knew Yeonjun’s word was final, regardless of their own opinion on the matter. He excused himself from the table, leaving Beomgyu and his brother alone for the first time in months.
It was awkward at first, with Beomgyu mostly fixated on his shoes and sneaking glances up to see his brother staring at him intently. He squirmed where he stood, waiting for Yeonjun to speak first. He always spoke first.
“I know you won’t let us down, Beomgyu.”
There it was. A warning disguised as a compliment. The 23-year-old was a master of giving those to people, and Beomgyu was no exception, familial relation or not.
“You’re right, I won’t,” Beomgyu replied confidently. He knew he wouldn’t. Still, he didn’t like the accusatory looks such an important job came with. If everyone was so damn afraid he would mess up, why had they given him the task in the first place?
Oh, right. Because Yeonjun was his older brother.
Beomgyu sighed, waiting for his brother to respond. As he waited, watching Yeonjun run his fingers through his black hair, he fully took in his appearance. They both had jet-black hair and dark brown eyes, but the physical similarities stopped there. Beomgyu’s hair was long, just barely dripping over his shoulders, while Yeonjun preferred to keep his cut level with his sideburns. Yeonjun had a slightly upturned nose, whereas Beomgyu’s was far softer around the edges and less rigidly defined. Beomgyu’s eyes were also larger than Yeonjun’s, making him look younger than him by more than just the year and a half that was between them. When Beomgyu raised his head to meet his eyes, he was stunned at the fatigue he saw swimming behind them. Yeonjun hardly ever let him see emotion in him, for he believed it signaled weakness.
He looked startlingly human.
“I know you won’t,” Yeonjun said quietly, not breaking the newfound eye contact. “Please believe me, Gyu, when I say that. I believe in you.”
Beomgyu’s heart swelled at the use of his nickname. No one had called him Gyu in over a decade, not since his mother had died all those years ago. Yeonjun knew what it meant to him, and it nearly brought tears to his tired eyes.
“I …” Beomgyu didn’t find himself speechless very often, a witty retort on the tip of his tongue always locked, loaded, and ready to go. But now, he had less than no idea what to say.
Yeonjun smiled, the warm one Beomgyu only saw once in a blue moon. He wished his brother would show that one more. “I know.” His voice was quiet. “I know, Gyu.”
Beomgyu swallowed thickly, fighting down tears. “Thank you for trusting me, Junie.”
Yeonjun almost laughed. They hadn’t used nicknames for the majority of their lives, but on the eve of a life-altering event, he supposed it was fitting to live a little. “You earned this chance. I don’t care what anyone tells you, but I didn’t have anything to do with you getting this position. You did.”
Beomgyu seriously doubted that, because even if Yeonjun hadn’t said anything the generals still assigned him to the job with the knowledge of their relation. But Beomgyu smiled regardless, nodding.
“Thank you,” he repeated, his brain seemingly unable to draft any more unique words. After a beat, he mustered the courage to ask what he’d been waiting years to.
“What happens next, Junie? After the crowning?”
Yeonjun’s smiled dropped. “What do you mean? We win.”
“Right. But …are you just planning to like, kidnap Soobin? Hold him for ransom, or something? Or is his punishment going to be …more severe?” Beomgyu asked, not sure which was his preference.
Yeonjun glanced around, as if to spot potential eavesdroppers. He tugged at Beomgyu’s shirt to pull him close, close enough to be able to give each other a butterfly kiss. It startled Beomgyu and all he could do was grip Yeonjun’s shirt to balance himself as his brother began whispering.
“You’ve seen firsthand what’s happened to our kingdom because of his treaty. His father killed our mother. If you were me, wouldn’t you already know the answer to that question?”
Beomgyu stared at his brother’s blazing eyes. He gulped, not wanting to push the subject further.
Yeonjun released him. “Go through with the plan, Beomgyu. And you’ll see what happens soon enough.”
Oh, so they were back to formal names now? Beomgyu rolled his eyes, sauntering off to his room. He angrily grabbed his bags and threw them into the travel bin. He spent that night in he and Yeonjun’s travel submarine, his racing thoughts not sparing him a single moment of peace to sleep. As they inched closer and closer to Salcarn, he used the time instead to roll the little smoke bomb between his fingers. It was so small, so easy to detonate, and yet, the tiny thing held the key to Beomgyu’s entire future.
He let his mind wander to the prince. Did he have any suspicion they were coming? Beomgyu seriously doubted it, as the operation had been kept tight-lipped for years and was only known to Doval’s most prominent. Even Beomgyu didn’t know all the details. Still, his heart picked up speed only a tad. What if someone recognized him as not being Salcarnian? That would ruin the entire mission immediately. What if the bomb malfunctioned? What if he dropped it somewhere in the crowd? What if the prince ordered to have him executed?
The prince. Beomgyu sneered from where he lay in his bed. That despicable, sorry excuse for a human being. All the stress and planning were worth it to see him taken down. So, Beomgyu rolled over onto his side, facing the wall as he eventually drifted off into sleep, the smoke bomb securely kept in place by his tight fist.
****
“Proud people of Salcarn, I ask of you, will you accept me as your king?”
Soobin felt the loud cheers before he heard them, the vibration from thousands of voices rattling the floor of the platform. Blood was rushing through his ears as he spoke the ceremonial line, courtesy of the adrenaline filling his entire body. He smiled at the response, knowing he had succeeded.
The people had spoken. He would be king.
Soobin waved one last time at the adoring crowd, preparing himself to ride down on the platform when he heard his father’s voice again.
Nice job. You did it.
That was it. Years of training, tears, and torture from his father, all for a listless “you did it.” Soobin felt like puking, but he forced himself to keep his composure, not wanting to break down now in front of his subjects. He stepped back onto the platform, willing for its gears to shift into reverse much faster than they were.
After an agonizing few seconds, Soobin felt the platform begin to descend as he rode squarely in its center. Now that the people had accepted his rise to power, he would be crowned in the afternoon after a “refreshing night’s sleep,” the law read. “At precisely noon the same day, the heir will be crowned into power.”
Just eleven more hours. Eleven more hours, and he would be the leader of the most powerful city in the seas.
He supposed there wasn’t much to fret now. The reception had gone smoothly. Soobin only stuttered once and the people were adoring enough to forgive him for the linguistic mistake. He was nervous about meeting a foreign ambassador the following afternoon after the crowning, the one from Oddinin. Doval’s Coven had denied their request to have an ambassador, claiming there wasn’t enough time for either heir to clear their schedules. Soobin knew the oldest son from Doval, Yeonjun. He had seen him in pictures multiple times and had been told he was a brilliant military strategist. As far as he was aware, he possessed instinctual leadership qualities that made him a force to be reckoned with. As for the younger son, Soobin couldn’t remember his name; his father never felt the need to educate him on his existence. He didn’t have any idea who he was or what he looked like, but Soobin supposed it didn’t matter since he wasn’t going to be at the coronation.
Soobin shrugged off his jacket and entered his bathing chambers to wash up for the ceremony the following afternoon, knowing he wouldn’t feel like bathing in the morning. He reentered his bedroom approximately fifteen minutes later to pull his sheets back, but before he could sink into their soft sanctuary, he noticed a small package on his bedside table.
That was strange, he thought, for only three people had direct access to his chambers. His father, of course, but he never paid him visits, let alone surprise him with gifts. The second possibility was Chaewon, a long-time friend and one of his most trusted advisors, but he doubted it was her, either. His father didn’t like her visiting Soobin’s room late at night for fear they would try something intimate, something Soobin had been banned from doing until he was king and engaged to be married to a lord’s daughter. That left Taehyun, and suddenly the gift made sense in the prince’s muddled mind.
His relationship with Taehyun was …complicated. It’s not that Soobin didn’t care for him. Rather, it was the opposite. He almost cared …too much. His love for Taehyun ran deep through his veins, and if left unchecked for long periods his mind would run amok with thoughts of him. Thoughts of his large, crystal eyes that had seen right through Soobin and comforted away all his troubles. His pale blond hair that seemed to bounce out of his head and frame his face in such a way that made Soobin’s brilliant brain completely irrational. His strong, sculpted arms that Soobin had dreamt of having hold him late at night-
He hurled the gift onto his bed, erasing its contact with his hand as if it were made of pure fire. Soobin couldn’t have those kinds of thoughts. Especially not about his closest friend who didn’t feel anywhere near the same. And even if he did, it was forbidden. Not only because of Soobin’s political position, but because two people of the same sex couldn’t marry in Salcarn.
Well, if Soobin were being completely honest with himself, they probably could. There were no mandates outlawing it, but no one had ever publicly tried in their city’s 250-year history. But if Soobin were to tell his father he had feelings for another man, he knew there would be a law the next day forbidding it. The would-be king couldn’t bring himself to condemn a common citizen who just wanted to be happy to his father’s wrath.
On the verge of tears, Soobin slowly inched closer to his bed, eyeing the small package warily. He saw a note taped to the side, so he carefully removed it from the beautiful green wrapping paper and skimmed over it. At the top, in Taehyun’s wonderfully familiar chicken scratch handwriting, was Soobin’s name.
My dearest Soobinie,
Soobin blinked, the golden tears dangerously close to pouring out from behind his eyelids now. Emotions he had been suppressing for so long were scratching at the surface of his heart, trying desperately to set themselves free.
I know it has been a while since we’ve seen one another-far too long, in fact. I wrote to tell you I wish to see you again, for both my heart and mind are losing sanity over our separation. If you feel the same, meet me at the Koclark Tower at 10:30, before your crowning.
Like he would refuse Taehyun’s offering to meet. Soobin scoffed at the mere thought. The only way he wouldn’t do anything Taehyun asked of him was if his father quite literally held a knife to his throat, and even then, it would be far more tempting to obey his younger friend than the king. He did, however, let out a small groan at the realization he would have to be awake even earlier for the stylists. He wasn’t going to look anything less than his best for Taehyun.
I also bought you a gift. One hardly fit for a king, I know, but you’re not king yet, so don’t get too egotistical on me. I hope that it brings you comfort and happiness.
Soobin smiled wide. Taehyun could have wrapped a dead cockroach in the box-or live, who was he kidding-and Soobin would have felt nothing but eternal gratitude for his attention.
I look forward to seeing you again. Your dearest friend,
Taehyun
Soobin gently placed the letter on his nightstand and took a deep exhale as he sat. He brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms tightly around himself, curling into a ball as much as his giant 6’1” stature would allow him to. He wouldn’t get to see Taehyun nearly as much once he was king, based off pure lack of discretionary time. Still, he was grateful for the chance to see him in the morning.
He almost forgot about the package, but eventually remembered and reached out to find it still sitting where he had left it on the bed. He ran his fingers along the outlines on the square box. Taehyun had put a lot of effort into the packaging, but Soobin couldn’t wait to destroy it to find the contents lying underneath.
His heart exploded when he finally reached the item.
Inside was an earring, the most beautiful one Soobin had ever seen. It was a silver dolphin, the symbol of his family, attached to a chain with a cartilage cuff. He felt a few tears slip at the sight. Taehyun was so sweet and thoughtful.
Soobin tucked the precious gift into his bedside table drawer for safekeeping before slipping in between his sheets. Despite the logical part of his brain’s protestations, Taehyun filled his entire night. He saw him when he closed his eyes, in his dreams, and in the dark shadows of his room. He knew as king his responsibility would be to marry a woman to produce an heir for the kingdom, and he had long since made his peace with that, at least as best as he could. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t still think of Taehyun every now and then.
Besides, he wasn’t king yet.
****
“Really? I thought you said you trusted me, Yeonjun!”
Kai was standing between them, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. Clearly this hadn’t been the young soldier’s idea, and he was just as unhappy about it as Beomgyu currently was.
“I do,” Yeonjun replied calmly, smiling his warmthless smile once again. The public façade was firmly back in place on his features. “But I don’t think it will hurt to send someone with you.”
“Does it have to be him?” Beomgyu asked, exasperated.
“My lord, I’m standing right here,” Kai said, clearly affronted.
“No offense, kid, but you’re not old nor important enough to accompany me on this mission.”
“He is if I say he is,” Yeonjun said, the threat in his words plain as day to anyone with a sense of hearing.
Beomgyu rubbed his face with his hand. “Why? Why do I need a guardian, Junie?”
“I just want you to have someone with you in case of emergency. We’re in unfamiliar, and soon to be hostile, territory. Kai here is brilliant. He can help you out of any sticky situations you may find yourself in. I’m not saying you will!” He added quickly, seeing that Beomgyu was opening his mouth to protest. “But you could, through no fault of your own. Therefore, I have made the last-minute decision for someone to accompany you, and it can’t be me because I would be recognized in an instant. So, do as I say, and trust Kai. He won’t interfere with the plan. Just proceed with everything as you were instructed.”
Beomgyu forced his eyes away from Yeonjun and over to Kai, fully noticing the boy for the first time. Curly blond hair fell over his eyes in an almost endearing sort of way, had Beomgyu not been so annoyed with him for his general existence. He was freakishly tall, not exactly an inconspicuous trait, which annoyed Beomgyu further. They were supposed to try to blend into the crowd, not stick out.
“ …Fine,” he begrudgingly spoke, rolling his eyes between the two men in front of him. “Fine. But we need to get going. It’s almost 10 o’clock and we need to get prime position in the crowd for when the ceremony starts.”
Yeonjun nodded. “Yes, you do. Beomgyu, I trust you have what you need. Now go, and remember the plan, and the backup plan, and the-”
“Backup backup plan, yes, I know,” he finished, already turning away from his brother. “Let’s go, Kai.”
Beomgyu and Kai left their circle next to the travel sub, taking in the outskirts of the Salcarnian kingdom. Beomgyu had always heard it was breathtaking, but he had never physically been to the city himself. He found himself drinking in the beautiful scenery, from the endless aquatic garden gracing its outer edges to the bluish-green statues occasionally littering the landscape. Everything was in perfect position, not a single speck of existence out of place. Before Beomgyu knew it, the two were quickly approaching the metal bridge that would officially cross them into Salcarn.
“My lord, there won’t be any security on this bridge, right?” Kai asked, apprehensive. Beomgyu sighed. The peaceful sightseeing had almost made him forget about his companion.
“No. Not today. Every breathing soul in the city will be at the crowning. Leaving plenty of space for us to sneak in.” Beomgyu smiled. Salcarnians may have been the powerhouse of the sea, but after years of studying and analyzing their every move, Beomgyu had concluded they didn’t seem the most anticipative of their competitors’ espionage.
Maybe their new king could change that. An unwanted thought about the prince sprung again, and Beomgyu forced it down. If the prince really was as good at combat strategy as the rumors suggested, then it was all the more important this mission succeed. They needed to remove him from the equation before he had a chance to wipe out Doval’s Coven.
“That seems risky,” Kai said, drawing attention back to him. Beomgyu knew very little about him, primarily that he was a young soldier his brother placed a fair bit of faith in. He seemed nice enough, but Beomgyu had enough on his plate to worry about; he didn’t have time for small talk with the kid.
“Yeah, and it’s about to bite them in the ass,” Beomgyu said, stepping up to the edge of the bridge.
Before he could take another step, Kai yanked him back by his shirt. “Wait! Something’s not right.”
Beomgyu was going to open his mouth to yell at him, for how dare he put his hands on a Coven heir without permission. But when he followed the trail Kai’s eyes were burning into the metal before them, he found he was right.
There were imperceptible bumps along the smooth gray surface of the bridge, undetectable to the untrained eye. Luckily for the two of them, they had been trained to spot such inconsistencies their entire lives. Beomgyu knew what they were and he whistled in appreciation at the sly safety measure the Salcarnians had taken.
“I guess King Min-Gyeol did take some precautions, after all.”
Beomgyu shook his head. “There’s no way that idiot king of theirs did this.” He paused momentarily, an unwelcome moment of appreciation for the young prince rushing through his brain. “It had to be the prince.”
Kai nodded. “Good thing he won’t be crowned today.”
Beomgyu felt another uneasy feeling wash over him, one of fear and …guilt? Maybe. He shoved it down. Choi Soobin was an evil menace, just like his father. He needed to be taken down. And this was probably the best chance the Dovalites were ever going to have.
“My lord, do you want to lead the way, or should I?” Kai asked, freeing Beomgyu from his thoughts. In his hatred, he had almost forgotten about the water techs.
“I will,” Beomgyu said, waving his hand dismissively. “I can spot them easily.”
“Says the one who almost walked straight into one and nearly became the next decoration for the Salcarnians’ garden.”
Beomgyu’s cheeks burned as Kai giggled, and he resisted the urge to reach out and punch him. Still, he suddenly found himself grateful for the young soldier’s presence, as it may very well have saved his life.
“Yeah, and thank you for that. Now, shut the hell up and let’s get moving, yeah?”
In silence, the two carefully made their way across the bridge, their experienced feet dodging the prince’s bombs with ease. After nearly ten minutes, they finally reached the other side of the expansive contraption, and the sight they were greeted with made Beomgyu’s heart slam against his chest in anticipation.
From the end of the bridge, they had a wide view of the expansive kingdom before them. Building clusters were visible along the entire landscape, some disappearing into the background of the impossibly large city. Every color could be seen-the blue of the water; the green of the flora; the gray, blacks, reds, and purples of the buildings; the turquoise of more statues; the yellow of the faint lights that scanned over the top of the city, acting as guide to its inhabitants. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Beomgyu swallowed at the sight.
He was going to disrupt that beauty.
The city would plunge into chaos when their prince went missing, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought. But he ignored it. There were more pressing issues at hand that required his full attention.
“Pretty amazing, our enemies, aren’t they?” Kai said to the water surrounding them as he gazed around in awe. Beomgyu jumped at the words. He was right. From there on, they were in enemy territory, no one willing to help them if they knew their true loyalties.
“It is,” Beomgyu agreed. His eyes continued scanning, until they landed on the focal point-the large, chocolate-colored castle in the city’s center. That had to be where the royal family resided. There were endless parapets, gates, towers, and cannons extending the length of the palace’s exterior, clearly a well-fortified vessel of protection for those who lived within its walls.
Beomgyu gritted his teeth. Did any of the other city inhabitants have such protection? He was almost certain of the answer.
His eyes eventually landed on the large dolphin relic at the top of the castle, and Beomgyu rolled his eyes. The insignia of the Choi family, who had ruled for almost 250 years, since the founding of Salcarn. All thoughts of the city’s beauty were wiped from Beomgyu’s mind when he remembered the prince, and he turned to his companion once again.
“Come on, Kai. We need to get moving.”
Not in a position to disobey his orders, Kai did as he was told, stalking after Beomgyu as they made their way closer to the castle. It took them almost an hour to walk the radius of the city, most of which was silent until Kai spoke up again.
“So what did the prince do, anyways?”
Beomgyu hesitated. He supposed there was no harm in telling him. The younger had been sent along on one of the mission’s most dangerous tasks, so he figured he deserved answers. “About four years ago, there was a secret treaty that was signed, right there in that building.” He pointed at the castle. “It wasn’t an overly formal document, but rather one that was hastily drafted and crude. Not worthy of a king’s usual mandates. It was almost like someone else had drafted it, someone who still possessed a lot of power and reason to dislike the other kingdoms, if you catch who I’m alluding to. Anyways, this document was leaked to us through a couple of spies stationed here at the time, and Soobin’s name was signed on it.”
“What was the document?” Kai asked eagerly.
“A promise,” Beomgyu spat. “A vow that Salcarn-Soobin-would break the peace accords with us and burn our kingdom to ash, a few weeks after he was set to become king.” His heart swelled painfully at the idea of that happening.
He wouldn’t allow it to.
Kai whistled. “Wow.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Kai looked angry. “Let’s go get the bastard, then.”
They didn’t say anything else. Traversing the huge city wasn’t too strenuous, but it was well-past eleven by the time they arrived at the crowd gathering in front of the castle.
“We made it.” Beomgyu breathed out a sigh of relief. They began pushing their way through the already-dense throng, some people muttering out profane curses at their shoving. Eventually, they made it to a spot near the center.
“I think this is good,” Kai suggested, and Beomgyu nodded in agreement. He checked his watch. 11:47. Perfect timing. The prince would be greeting the people at any minute now.
He cleared his throat, side-glancing at Kai. “Really, thank you, by the way,” he said, keeping his voice low so as not to be overheard. Not that there was really any chance of that with the chatter of thousands of people around them. “For the bridge.”
Kai smiled. “Just doing what I was trained to, my lord.”
“Still. You might have saved my life.”
“Don’t forget your pride. That would have been an embarrassing way to die.”
Despite himself, Beomgyu chuckled. “I won’t deny that. But again, thank you.”
Kai nodded, his smile bright. Beomgyu felt himself returning it, and his muscles hurt at the expression. It’s not that he never smiled, he just usually didn’t. At least never this genuinely.
Beomgyu found the feeling rather unsettling.
“How much time do we have left?” Kai asked, breaking Beomgyu’s trance.
“Uh, about ten minutes.”
They looked at each other, nodding in silent agreement. The entire fate of the mission rested on their shoulders, and D-Day was fast approaching. Beomgyu fixated his glare on the platform, trying not to let his disgust show.
There was no turning back now.