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Chapter Text

The Royal Keep of Koyang Forest is an intimidating sight to behold. Built out from the foot of the mountain with wood and stone, it rises high above the tree line in circling tiers of courtyards and gardens, all the inner dwellings kept safely within the cave structure beyond. Xinlong freezes on the spot in awe the moment he lays eye on it, still quite some ways away in the distance, and he has to rear back onto his haunches to see the very top of it over the trees, his tail lashing across the dirt track as his ears press back flat against his skull.

He still can't quite believe that that is where he is heading, that he has been asked – invited, in fact – to enter the great Keep. The invitation scroll is tucked securely in the ornate ivory tube it had been delivered in, strapped to the pack tied to his front so he doesn't lose it before reaching his destination. He’s come such a long way from the plains at the forest's edge, Xinlong would be mortified if his own clumsiness doomed his venture to an early end by misplacing his invitation.

Not that he's expecting much to come from this journey; he's only been invited because all the kingdom’s clans are required to send at least one representative to a royal Mate Trial, and Xinlong is merely the only unattached shifter within the correct age range in his clan. He can't imagine that the crowned prince of the cat shifters will look at him twice as a potential mate, if he even looks at Xinlong at all.

Prince Junmin is legendary across the entire forest for being notoriously picky about his companions, platonic and romantic alike, as well as prickly, standoffish, and overall difficult to get to know. The alpha prince is famous for his handsome features, cold eyes, and isolating, reclusive nature; rarely seen around the forest without a guard shadowing him, if he even leaves the keep at all. Only once does anyone ever remember him being away from the Keep for any great length of time, and that had been when he'd left for the Living Seas over the mountains as a political emissary to broker a deal with the water shifters living there. He had returned to great fanfare over half a year later, a treaty secure and a small kitten in his arms, practically a newborn, who he had found on his travels, orphaned and alone, and had taken in as his ward.

Though the king had denied naming the kitten as Junmin's heir, the action alone had done wonders to soften the prince's cold image and improve his perception amongst the forest shifters, but still, very little was known about the prince besides that – and that had been a year or two ago, if Xinlong remembers correctly.

Now, however, with the king on his deathbed, war on their doorstep, and the queen in disarray as his mate ails away before his eyes, the ice cold prince has been demanded to take a mate and provide a true heir to the kingdom. Thus, the summons across the forest clans for a Mate Trial, where the prince will have three months between estrus cycles to get to know the Trial candidates and, finally, select one to be his official mate.

Xinlong almost feels sorry for the man, in truth. There are over thirty clans across Koyang Forest – some so large they’re practically cities amongst the trees, and others small enough that their numbers are one harsh winter away from being in single digits, like Xinlong's own. Each has sent a representative, and each theoretically has equal chance of being chosen, bringing great wealth and accolades to the clan of the chosen, though history and society dictates that the prince's future mate will more likely than not hail from one of the large clans within a stone's throw of the Royal Keep. A lowly plains shifter like Xinlong, who has neither the traditional manner nor look of someone fit to be a royal omega, is really only attending for propriety's sake, so that no one clan can claim that they have been overlooked in the Trial.

He is, however, looking forward to three months of living in abject wealth for the first time in his life before returning home and resuming his life as a border scout of his village. Perhaps then, he will take a mate of his own – in the past few years since he became of age, he has received a handful of courting requests from alphas in neighbouring and migratory clans who pass their way, but he has been far too busy to seriously consider any of them. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Xinlong would rather face the rest of his life alone than tie himself to an alpha for what would essentially be a usurp of his clan's land and people.

With the sun at its highest point in the sky, Xinlong finally reaches the outskirts of the Keep, the great stone wall rising up before him, the gates open wide to welcome the royal clan's guests for the next three months. Once again, he finds himself freezing on the spot, staring up at the great Keep with green eyes so wide he's flashing whites, the wine dark fur along his back ruffling up with his unease. I have no business being in such a grand place, he can't help but think, his tail curling around his back leg.

Already, there is a small trickle of shifters making their way in – the Trial is due to start in the next two days, so everyone is making haste to reach the Keep in time – stopping briefly in the modesty tents provided to assume their human forms and dress accordingly. He can see the bright silks that make up the formal wear of the closest clans, dyed with the rich flowers that grow at the mountain's foot, and the blue gauzes of the river clans who live further inland and gather at the water's edge. Still in cat form, Xinlong already feels embarrassed by his meagre cotton tunic, decorated as it is by his grandmother's finest embroidery and his own careful patterning with the black dye his clan makes from ash stone and tree sap.

Cowed by the flashy showing, Xinlong slinks off the main path to collect himself, unsure where he's going in his quest to find somewhere he can sit and rest for a while as he musters up the courage to finally approach the big gates. He finds a small clearing just far enough away from the path that no one will be able to spot him through the trees as he doffs his pack and settles down on his side, stretching his paws out as he sinks into the soft grass and fallen leaves to let the sun soak his dark fur. In a direct beam like this, the flecks of red in his coat shine like rubies, and Xinlong closes his eyes, deciding that he's earned a nap after such a long journey through the forest - he's been on his paws for almost four days straight, after all, only stopping long enough to hunt small meals and drink where he finds fresh water.

Perhaps he drifts off or perhaps no time passes at all, but he suddenly finds himself snapping awake with his ears pricked, already pointed towards the near-silent sound that had disturbed him. It's the familiar scrape of claws on tree bark, though clumsy and unsure, and he tilts his head up, squinting around the clearing.

There.

On a high branch, almost directly opposite where he is laying, Xinlong spots a small ball of bronze fur wedged into a fork of branches, bright golden eyes peering down at him from a tiny face with distinct black markings across its eyes and nose. Tufted ears perk up when the shifter kitten realises Xinlong has spotted it, and a tiny tail points straight up to the sky in excitement.

Xinglong chuffs quietly at the kitten, rolling onto his back a little more, as much as his pack behind him will allow, exposing the paler fur of his belly in a silent invitation for a sleepy cuddle. The kitten chirps at him and immediately scrambles down the tree's thick trunk, clumsy and inexperienced, and Xinlong watches it carefully, ready to lunge to his paws should the small kitten lose its grip with its milky claws. Thankfully, it makes it safely to the ground and bounds through the tall grass to Xinlong's side with another chirp, tail quivering as it butts its forehead to Xinlong's cheek.

His mind is quickly inundated with a flurry of thoughts he can barely keep up with, and Xinlong lets out a little rumble of complaint, not meaning it in the slightest, murmuring, Slow down, little one, to the kitten.

Sorry, sorry! the kitten says, batting a paw at Xinlong's ear. You're new, I've never seen you around before. You're so pretty, no one around here has fur like yours.

He's a little alpha tom kitten, only a few years old if Xinlong were to hazard a guess – possibly not old enough to have made his first human shift, and certainly not old enough to be out in the forest on his own. Xinlong casts a glance around the nearby trees to see if there's a parent or minder watching them, casting his senses out but finding no one but the trail of clan representatives still flooding through the gates of the Keep. Perhaps the kitten belongs to one of the nearby clans and had ventured out to see the parade of new shifters filling the area.

Xinlong lifts a paw – so large compared to the kitten's small body – and gently scoops him into his side, letting the kitten paw at his belly and make himself comfortable sprawled on top of him, basking in the sun and the warmth of Xinlong's thick fur. Does anyone know you're out here, little one? he asks, unable to quell his own instinct to nurture and protect kittens despite not yet having one of his own, and the kitten's ears flatten out.

I ran away, the kitten says proudly, his tufted ears twitching happily, golden eyes squinting shut. Everyone was too busy in the big courtyard to play with me so I left to find someone who could – and I found you! His thin claws knead into Xinlong's side painlessly, and Xinlong settles his own paw over the kitten's back, already on the brink of falling asleep again.

Shifters are social creatures, communal creatures, raising kittens in their clans regardless of who they belong to, and Xinlong is often a favourite nap spot for the few kittens in his clan. Once the sun sinks a little lower, he'll scruff the kitten and carry him back to the keep to try and find the clan he belongs to before anyone get truly worried about him. Thankfully, so close to the keep, the forest is relatively safe – all the large predators are kept well away by the shifters' presence, and rogue shifters rarely venture this close to where the royal guards prowl. In all honesty, there's most likely a royal guard nearby who knows they're both there, content to leave an omega and a kitten to nap in the sun while they're not in danger.

You shouldn't run off without telling anyone where you're going, Xinlong scolds the kitten lightly, earning himself a tiny little set of teeth gnawing ineffectively at his wrist for his troubles. He laughs quietly and gives the kitten a gentle tap on the head with his other paw with a chiding, Manners, have some manners.

The kitten relaxes against him completely, all his energy lulled out of him by the warmth and comforting scent of sleepy omega around him, and his little body slumps into Xinlong's hold, eyes fluttering shut. I wish mama had time to cuddle with me like this, he says wistfully, a purr starting to thrum through him, echoed by Xinlong's much deeper one. Sometimes I don't think he likes me very much.

I'm sure that's not true at all, Xinlong replies after a moment of thought, thinking of his own mother, so busy with two kittens to raise and what always seemed to be a hundred tasks to do around their small clan village as one of the few elders still living there. Our parents work to keep us fed and safe, but they always love us, no matter how distant they may seem.

The kitten hums, thoughtful and sleepy, and says, I like you. Maybe you can tell my mama to spend more time with me when you get to the Keep.

Xinlong's tail flicks in the grass. How did you know I was headed for the Keep?

Like I said, you're new. Only people going to the Keep are new around here, and there are lots of new people going to the Keep today. The kitten is quite succinct for his age, nodding sagely against Xinlong's belly. They're coming for the Trial, I hear the adults talking about it sometime. He pauses then, ears perking up again. Does that mean you're here for the Trial?

Nodding, Xinlong lets his claws out slightly, scratching along the kitten's nape and spine in an attempt to soothe him to sleep fully. I am, but I don't really want to be. I'm the only person in my clan who was eligible to come. He doesn't know why he's telling this to a strange kitten that doesn't belong to him, but Xinlong hasn't had anyone to talk to since he left his clan and he is, admittedly, quite lonely and homesick despite his usual tendencies to self-isolate back home.

What's your name? Where are you from? the kitten asks after a beat of considering Xinlong's words. I'm Yunseo.

Xinlong, Xinglong replies. I'm from one of the plains clans, all the way out on the edge of the forest.

The kitten's eyes open slightly. That's so far away, he muses. I've never been past the edge of royal territory before.

Something prickles at the edge of Xinlong's mind, then, a slightly wary feeling that makes his instincts thrum. This kitten clearly belongs to someone not from a clan neighbouring the Keep, but from a clan living inside the Keep, meaning he's either the kitten of a servant or guard, or someone in the royal family itself. Perhaps he should rethink his nap plan and take the kitten back right now before someone thinks he's catnapped the little ball of fluff.

I think you'll do well in the Trial, Yunseo mumbles, finally starting to fall asleep now that Xinlong is wide awake. He likes quiet, calm people like you.

Xinlong's ears flick back in surprise, both that Yunseo knows the prince well enough to make a comment like that, and that such a young kitten is so observant and insightful. We'll see, he says, non-committal, and resumes scratching the little kitten's back. Have a little nap, Yunseo. I'll take you back to the Keep with me later.

Do you have to? Yunseo complains, curling up slightly and pressing his nose into Xinlong's fur comfortably. I don't like being cooped up in there. I'm always in someone's way and being told to go somewhere else.

I'm sure your mama is worried about you, Xinlong tells him gently. I would be, if my kitten disappeared while there were so many new people around my home.

Yunseo sighs and doesn't reply, clearly agreeing with Xinlong and not wanting to admit it. Instead, he kneads his paws in a little harder and finally goes to sleep, curling up a bit more under Xinlong's protective paw. Xinlong lets him, resting his own head back in the grass and letting the sun lull him back into that sleepy, relaxed state once more. He tends to feel the most comfortable around the kittens; he might not be so keen on the idea of having an alpha, but Xinlong has always wanted kittens of his own.

He hopes Yunseo's mother doesn't mind Xinlong borrowing him for a few hours.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Snapping awake sometime later, all the fur along his spine standing on end, Xinlong knows immediately that he's being watched by someone lurking in the trees. Yunseo is still curled up on top of him, and he quickly and carefully rolls forward, keeping the sleeping kitten safe between his belly and the ground as he surveys the trees with wary eyes. The forest might be relatively safe this close to the keep, but Xinlong has never lived in such luxury out in the plains, where danger lurks around every sparse tree. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Yunseo because of him, if something happened to any kitten under his protection.

He hears the distinct sound of paws in the undergrowth, louder than before, purposeful, the shifter approaching them wanting Xinlong to know that they're there. Loosing a tiny snarl, Xinlong hunches low over Yunseo, determined to keep him hidden until he knows if the coming shifter is friend or foe.

Out of the trees steps an alpha with glimmering dark silver fur, an impressive mane around his neck and a thick ruff down his back and chest. He’s much bigger than Xinlong, at least a full head if not more, and strongly muscled as he paces towards the omega in the clearing. His eyes are cold and grey, piercing as he stares Xinlong down, and when his presence touches Xinlong's mind, the omega cows before him, chittering nervously. He doesn't sense anything untoward about the alpha, just an overwhelmingly dominant presence.

This is probably the royal guard set to patrol this area of the forest.

Be calm, omega, the imposing voice says to him. I've come for the child. His mother is worried. It's time for him to return home.

I was going to bring him, Xinlong says, feeling the need to justify himself to this imposing alpha. I swear, I wasn't keeping him.

The alpha inclines his head ever so slightly, hii long, fluffy tail curling neatly around his paws as he sits on his haunches to wait patiently. Peace. I am glad you were here to stop him getting any further away from the Keep. He is slippery and incredibly smart for his age; many an appointed guardian has lost him between blinks since he was born.

I'll wake him up, Xinlong says, and backs up enough to reveal Yunseo, still sleeping soundly. He drops his head and noses at the kitten's head and neck, crooning to him with quiet chirps and meows until Yunseo starts to stir, whining and complaining the entire time. I'm afraid you've been caught, little one, he teases. A guard is here to take you home.

Yunseo sighs dramatically and has a big stretch, arching his back this way and that and extending all four paws one by one, spreading his toes and taking as much time as possible just to ruffle the guard's fur. It doesn't work, the silver alpha staying still and poised the entire time. It's a rather comical sight – a tiny kitten taunting the giant alpha, and Xinlong can't help but laugh. Eventually, he decides that Yunseo has had enough leeway, and he starts nosing at the kitten's back legs, urging him on his way towards the alpha.

With a great put upon sigh, the alpha leans down and picks Yunseo up by the scruff of the neck, teeth clamped there securely to prevent any further escape attempts. Yunseo, body limp but determined not to be defeated, yowls pitifully. Leo, put me down! he whines, only the very tip of his tail able to move while scruffed so securely, and it lashes against Leo's ruff. Come on, I promise not to run off again.

Promises from a known escape artist mean nothing to me, you little menace, Leo rumbles affectionately, standing up and turning in the direction of the main path. Almost as an afterthought, he looks over his shoulder at Xinlong and says, Come with me. You were heading to the Keep for the Trial, yes? He points his nose at the ivory tube that is visibly strapped to Xinlong's pack. I'll escort you there; it's getting late. The official welcoming finished an hour ago, but you aren't the only one who missed it.

Xinlong blinks at him and then startles into motion, shrugging his pack back on and falling into step behind the large alpha. Thank you, Leo, he says quietly, no longer as nervous to approach the gate with company as he had been on his own. I appreciate you going out of your way. I didn't realise there was a welcoming I was supposed to be at, or I'd have cut my nap shorter.

This is Xinlong! Yunseo pipes up excitedly, swaying in Leo's jaws as the alpha carefully leads Xinlong back to the main path. He's really nice, and he smells so good. I've never seen a cat with fur like his before, have you, Leo? Clearly, now that he's awake, Yunseo has returned to his mile-a-minute speech, even if the scruffing hold is keeping his body motionless. He let me nap on him and everything.

That was very nice of him, Leo says, amusement clear in his voice. He's obviously quite fond of the young kitten, and Xinlong doesn't have to imagine that Leo probably spends more time playing Kitten Hunt than whatever his actual job for the royal family is. And you'll be sure to apologise to Sangwon for running off on him again, won't you? He's worried sick about you, considering all these new shifters coming to the Keep. You gave him a big fright disappearing on him like that.

It must be a frequent lecture, because Yunseo’s tail flicks in time to the beat of Leo's words. Xinlong wonders if this Sangwon who Leo mentioned is Yunseo's mother. They carry on polite conversation as they get closer to the Keep, Leo inquiring about where Xinlong has travelled from and how his journey was, recommending him one of the natural hot springs in the Keep to soothe his human body after four days in cat form, and Xinlong shyly asks him for a bit more information on how the Trial is supposed to work.

I confess, they don't talk much about royal affairs out in the plains, so I'm not very familiar with the process, he says, ducking his head, and Leo smiles as much as he can with a grumpy kitten in his mouth.

It's quite alright. Someone will gather all the representatives before it officially begins to answer any questions and hand out schedules, but it's really quite simple. All the representatives will have time to spend with Prince Junmin, and you can use that time however you please – in past Trials, representatives have tried to woo the Seeker, or show off any qualities they possess that might make them fit to be a royal mate. Others are more content to allow the Seeker to lead things. He chuckles, turning to look at Xinlong over his shoulder again. It seems daunting, but it's really quite simple. You can be as engaged as you choose; we're all aware that some representatives are only here because they have to be, not because they chose to be.

That soothes some of Xinlong's anxieties, and he bows his head in thanks for Leo's explanation. Not long after, they reach the gate, and Leo saunters straight past the guards stationed there and brings Xinlong along with him, taking him straight to one of the empty modesty tents. Wait here once you're done, he says. Most of the other representative have already arrived, and I have to head in that direction anyway to take this one back to his watcher, so I might as well show you where to go. And he gives Yunseo a gentle shake, making the kitten hiss at him adorably.

Xinlong nods silently and slinks inside, removing his pack again and rolling his shoulders as he sheds his fur and shifts, leaving him standing on wobbly human legs that ache and burn from the long travelling. He digs through his bag to find his tunic, pulling it over his head and letting it fall down around his body, the hem resting what is probably several inches too many above his knees. It’s almost too small for him now to be considered a modest outfit, having been made for him several years ago to wear for his coming of age ceremony, but it's the only ‘nice' piece of clothing he owns – he doubts the prince would appreciate Xinlong showing up in his matted hunting furs or dye-stained and ash-scented work tunic. He's already going to stand out amongst the other representatives as it is, there's no need to make it even more obvious that he's from one of the lowly outer edge clans.

As he promised, Leo is waiting outside the tent for him. In his human skin, the alpha is only slightly taller than Xinlong himself, more wiry and slim than his large cat form would imply. His hair is the same dark, shining silver as his fur, but his eyes are a much warmer grey as he smiles at Xinlong in welcome. Xinlong bows to him properly, bent at the waist, and before he can stand up straight again, something barrels right into his knees, nearly knocking him off his feet.

“Xinlong!” a little voice pipes, and Xinlong looks down at the little boy clinging to his thigh with wide eyes, his hand automatically settling in fluffy bronze hair to steady him. Yunseo's sweet little face peers up at him with a bright gummy smile full of baby teeth, his round cheeks flushed red and so soft when Xinlong pinches one between his thumb and forefinger gently. “You're as bad as Sangwon,” Yunseo complains, clinging even tighter to Xinlong's leg but making no attempt to pull away from the gentle affection. He digs his chin into Xinlong's thigh and says, “Are you coming up to the main Keep with us?”

Xinlong chucks a finger under his chin and smiles down at the adorable little boy, clearly slightly older than Xinlong first thought if he's already able to take human form. “At least part of the way,” he replies, “or so Leo tells me – I have no idea where I'm going.”

Leo laughs quietly and steps closer, staying a respectable distance from Xinlong while still being near enough they can converse without raising their voices. This close, Xinlong can see the proud mating bite high on Leo's neck, silvered over with age, and he smiles faintly, glad that the kind alpha has someone to go home to after spending his days wrangling slippery kittens. “Follow me, Xinlong,” he says warmly, “if you can walk with that limpet on your leg, of course.”

Without thinking about it, Xinlong slips his hands under Yunseo's armpits and scoops the kitten up into his arms, bracing him on his hip the way he does with the little ones back home. Yunseo chirps excitedly and throws his arms around Xinlong's neck, clinging on tight as Xinlong steps off after Leo. “I think I'm alright,” Xinlong says, giving Yunseo a little bounce to make the boy giggle into his shoulder. “Just don't squirm around, I don't want to drop you.”

“I'm sure he probably deserves a drop on his head,” Leo says archly, grinning at Yunseo to show he's kidding, and Yunseo sticks his tongue out at the older alpha, pulling silly faces at him even after Leo's turned away again. “The rooms for all the clan representatives are in the second tier, in the Rose Pavilion,” Leo tells Xinlong as they set off along a winding path lined with white stones and small flowering bushes. “Each tier has different coloured flowers growing on the paths, so just keep an eye out for the yellow ones and you'll be in the right spot. There's an iron gate with yellow roses growing on either side of it; show your invitation to the guard there and they'll show you to your own room and give you a tour of the facilities available to you. As the Trial goes on, you'll gain access to more areas of the Keep, but for everyone's safety, the representatives are kept to the second tier for the first few days.” He thumbs at his chest with a wink and adds, “Unless you're with a royal guard, of course.”

Xinlong smiles at him, taking all the information in diligently – he doesn't want to get lost or cause a scene by going somewhere he's not supposed to.

It's quite a walk from the lowest above-ground tier to the second tier, and they pass the staff quarters and the guardhouse on their way, both of which are located on the first tier, and Xinlong realises very quickly that Yunseo is not the child of a staff member or royal guard when Leo just keeps walking past them. He does stop momentarily to point out the guardhouse and tells Xinlong that if anything happens to him during his stay at the Keep that makes him feel afraid or unsafe, he's to come report it to a guard immediately.

Xinlong wonders if it's uncouth to say he suddenly feels afraid of whichever royal omega Yunseo belongs to. They might be a communal species and raise their kittens together, but most omega mothers will still get territorial over their young kittens clinging to another omega the way Yunseo is clinging to Xinlong. His scent must be all over the boy at this point.

They reach the second tier a few minutes later, and Leo shows Xinlong the path that leads into the caves where the dwellings are, and the path that leads to the hot springs he'd mentioned earlier. “They're just past the mess hall where you'll all be eating meals,” he says, pointing to a large structure of wooden beams and dyed canvas. “Once you start seeing white roses, you'll know you're in the right spot – but don't go too far past the springs or you'll end up in the third tier.”

“What's in the third tier?” Xinlong asks curiously, and Yunseo bounces in his arms excitedly.

“That's where the big courtyard is!” the kitten exclaims. “And the big gardens.”

Leo smiles at him and nods to confirm this. “The third tier is where the bulk of the Trial will take place; that's where the prince will come down to meet with all the representatives and spend time with you.” He stops suddenly and looks around furtively before leaning in to whisper, “The prince is quite introverted, so I suggest taking him to one of the more secluded parts of the gardens, if only to give him a break from the public spectacle of it all.”

Xinlong blinks at him, flabbergasted. Is Leo... helping him? Even though he knows Xinlong doesn't really want to be taking part in the Trial? He blinks a little more, and finally catches the look in Leo's eyes – unsure, but trusting. He's not helping Xinlong, he's trying to help Prince Junmin catch a break with someone who isn't actively planning on jumping his bones the second they're alone.

“...I'll keep that in mind,” Xinlong says eventually, and Leo offers him a blinding grin in return.

Yunseo pats Xinlong's face to get his attention and says, “There's a rope swing hanging under an apple tree in the back garden, he really likes it there,” with another sage little nod.

“Noted,” Xinlong says, and then the iron gate with the yellow rose bushes comes into view.

There's another member of the royal guard there, sitting bolt upright in their catskin to keep watch, and Xinlong is very surprised to find that they're an omega. He didn't know omegas were allowed to be part of the guard – in most of the outer clans, omegas are relegated to homemakers and small game hunters, leaving the protective duties to the big, strong alphas. This omega is much smaller than Leo, but just as muscled, his short, chocolate brown fur contoured to the shape of his impressive build and groomed to perfection. Sharp yellow eyes pierce into Xinlong as he comes into view and he has to resist the urge to hide behind Leo under the omega guard's scrutiny. He shifts Yunseo in his grip, the kitten chirping at him curiously, sensing his sudden change in mood.

“Junseo, this is Xinlong,” Leo calls, and the omega guard flicks an ear to indicate he heard the alpha. “He got a little waylaid by our runaway here, so I apologise that he's so late coming up. Hopefully you won't hold the fact that he missed the official welcoming against him?” he wheedles, and Junseo snorts, posture relaxing slightly.

That's when Xinlong realises that he's going to have to hand Yunseo back to Leo and finds that, actually, he doesn't want to do that. He wants to keep the sweet little kitten in his arms, close and safe, which is an exceptionally dangerous line of thought considering Yunseo's parents must be part of the royal family. It's surprisingly difficult, but Xinlong lets logic win over instinct and prises Yunseo off – a feat that is easier said than done, as the kitten himself seems reluctant to be removed from Xinlong's hold, and he resits being handed over to Leo with a series of small, squeaking mewls, his claws digging into Xinlong's tunic.

“Nooo, I wanna stay with Xinlong!” Yunseo finally wails out once he's been separated from the omega, Leo holding him out at arms length as he continues to flail his arms and legs, claws completely unsheathed. “I wanna stay with Xinlong, he smells nice and he actually likes me! He doesn't yell at me or tell me to go away!”

Xinlong has taken half a step towards the wailing kitten with his hands outstretched before he even realises that he's moved, only stopping when Junseo lets out a warning snarl, a big paw darting out to halt him in his tracks. Freezing, his eyes wide, Xinlong wonders hysterically what on earth just came over him. Is he that desperate for a kitten of his own that he has become so attached to someone else's child in just a scant few hours? He stumbles backwards and clasps his hands behind his back, turning his face away from Leo and Junseo both. “I'm sorry,” he says, and bows. “I forgot myself. Thank you for the escort, alpha. I'll bid you goodbye for the night.”

“Xinlong!” Yunseo mewls, distressed and animalistic, and when Xinlong glances up, the kitten has half shifted in Leo's hands, squirming and wiggling in an attempt to escape the alpha's grasp. “Don't go, Xinlong!”

“I'm sorry, little one,” Xinlong whispers, and he means every word. “But you have to go back to your family, now.” He reaches into his pack and pulls out the ivory tube, unscrewing the cap to let the invitation scroll slide into his hands, not daring to look as Leo says goodnight to Junseo and starts carrying Yunseo away towards the third tier and higher up the keep. He’s afraid of what he might do if he looks at the crying kitten. Instead, he unrolls the invitation and shows it to Junseo, who is eyeing him distrustfully. “I'm really sorry,” he tells the guard, who just huffs at him.

Junseo saunters through the gate, and moments later, a human voice calls, “Come through, Xinlong, I'll show you to your room.” Xinlong scrambles to do as he's told, stepping through the iron gate and finding himself face to face with a human Junseo, who is so intimidatingly attractive Xinlong nearly trips over his own feet. Junseo smirks silently at him, and crooks a finger to urge Xinlong into following him. “Each clan attendant has their own private room,” Junseo says, leading Xinlong under an ornate stone archway that has been built into the mouth of the cave. “Within this cave, there is a communal bathhouse and nesting facility, should you desire to use them. There is a small garden, a walking track, and a plunge pool through the rest of the tier, and you will all be gathered twice a day for morning and late meal at the mess hall. Lunch is served directly to your rooms and you may eat that wherever you choose within the boundaries of the tier.”

They turn down a manmade corridor that is lined with closed doors, and Xinlong feels a prickle of discomfort the further away from the open sky they get. He has never been so completely... inside before, and his skin already itches for the cool breeze and warmth of the sun. How he's meant to sleep in here is beyond him, but he supposes he'll have to learn to endure it to avoid bringing shame to his clan.

“Tomorrow, there will be an official induction to the Mate Trial, but the basic rules are as follows: until instructed, you may not leave this second tier unless you are being accompanied by a guard; you must respect your fellow clan representatives; shifting is not permitted at communal meals, but feel free to stay in your catskin otherwise; there is a strict curfew – you must be back in your room by the time the moon is at its peak. Do you understand all of these, Xinlong?” Junseo stops in front of a door with a hand-painted sign on it, the number 36 displayed next to Xinlong's name and clan. It's the last door in the corridor, the furthest away from the cave entrance. When Xinlong nods, Junseo smiles, a small, insincere thing that doesn't reach his eyes. “Good. This is your room. Your key is by the bed, but note that the shift guard has a master key to all the rooms, and will use it if they deem it necessary, either for your safety or the safety of others. It's your responsibility to keep your room neat during your stay.”

With that, he pushes the door open and ushers Xinlong inside.

It's like nothing Xinlong has ever seen before – despite being utterly and completely underground, there is a soft, glowing light filling the room thanks to a beautiful lantern hanging from the ceiling. The bed is huge, a carved wooden box set in one corner with a soft mattress and piled high with blankets and pillows. A wardrobe stands in one corner, one side already filled with clothes, which Xinlong stares at in awe. “This is all for me?” he asks, eyes wide.

“Indeed,” Junseo hums, and then gives Xinlong a sharp, shallow bow. “I'll leave you for the night, Xinlong. Please settle in and feel free to use the facilities; curfew is not for another few hours.” He turns on his heel without fanfare, stepping back into the corridor and leaving Xinlong to his room. Before he shuts the door, however, Junseo speaks again, carefully keeping his back to Xinlong. “Master Yunseo doesn't usually warm up to people so fast,” he says delicately. “It'll serve you well not to get too close to him, or it will only hurt him more when you leave at the end of the Trial.”

And then, he's gone, and Xinlong is left alone in his room, reeling back as if Junseo had slapped him.

Master Yunseo?

Xinlong swears out loud and flops straight down onto the bed, barely sparing time to drop his pack before he does. Just what on earth has he gotten himself into? The Trials haven't even started yet and Xinlong already feels out of his very limited emotional depth.

ᓚᘏᗢ

After spending quite some time wallowing in his bed wondering how he's managed to get himself into such a pickle mere hours after entering the Keep, Xinlong had tiptoed out of his room to investigate the rest of the large Rose Pavilion cave. He finds the nesting room first, a large, open chamber with dozens of strings of lights dripping from the ceiling to cast everything in a buttery golden glow, cushy chairs, large pillows, bedrolls, and as many different types of blankets that Xinlong can think of spread out as far as the eye can see. There’s even a small bench off to one side laden with fruits and cured meats and bowls of toasted nuts and boiled sweets, large clay pitchers full of water and other beverages wedged between all the food.

There are a few omegas lounging around in there already, so Xinlong keeps moving without going in further to investigate, still too on edge from his encounter with Junseo to want much company. The bathhouse is also occupied, but there are individual stalls with canvas privacy curtains, so he steps into one and washes himself with the naturally heated water pouring from within the mountain itself through a metal spigot chiselled straight into the stone wall.

He sleeps still and dreamless that night, and is woken in the morning by the loud clanging of a gong from somewhere deep in the caves, echoing from room to room in a horrible symphony. It scares Xinlong half to death, and he is shifted and pressed into a corner of his room before his eyes are even open properly, fur standing on end and his lips peeled back in a frightened snarl. He's still there several minutes later when there is a knock at the door and someone pokes their head inside, looking around for him with soft eyes.

“Ah, there you are,” the man says, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind him. “Did the gong frighten you? I'm so sorry, Junseo should have warned you last night about it. It gives everyone a start the first time they hear it.” He pads over and sits down neatly on the floor a few feet away from where Xinlong is cowering against the wall, giving him space while still being present. Like Junseo, this man is also an omega, his rich, sweet scent doing wonders to soothe Xinlong's frazzled nerves. His black hair is streaked through with bolts of white that must look stunning while he's shifted, his silver eyes gleaming under his fringe. A mating bite sits high on his throat, and he's dressed in a simple cream tunic with brown leather pants, like the handful of royal staff that Xinlong has seen around. “Take you time shifting back, Xinlong,” he says quietly. “I’m just here to help you get ready for the Trial induction.”

Xinlong stares at him, unmoving, wishing for a moment that the man would shift so they could communicate without Xinlong having to try and form words with his mouth. Alas, the kind-looking man stays firmly human, waiting patiently as Xinlong slowly pulls away from the wall, his fur settling down and his ears softening. As he scents the air, curious about his currently company, he finds there's something vaguely familiar about the man's scent, something deeper than the sweet top notes, but he can't for the life of him place what it is.

Eventually, he manages to calm down enough to shift out of his catskin, leaving him naked and huddled in the corner, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he tries to hide behind his hair, but all the man does is smile warmly at him, leaning over to grab the corner of a blanket Xinlong had dislodged onto the floor in his panic. He kneels up and throws the blanket around Xinlong's shoulders, giving him a bit of his dignity back.

“Thank you,” he mutters, pulling the blanket more securely around himself and sitting up properly. “I'm not... used to big loud noises like that.”

The plains are never silent, but there's a sense of peace and quiet there that is rarely disturbed. Sudden loud noises only come to them with hunters from the human settlements on the other side of the plains, waving their guns and itching to get their hands on a shifter's skin to hang as a trophy, proof that they've slain a demon.

To Xinlong, a loud bang usually preludes the death of someone he loves.

“My name is Sangwon, by the way,” the ever-so-patient omega says when silence has lapsed between them for an almost uncomfortably long time. He offers Xinlong another warm smile and adds, “I believe I owe you a thanks for catching my escaped charge yesterday?”

His name does more to calm Xinlong down than anything else, remembering Leo mentioning the omega the day before – the guardian whom Yunseo gave the slip on his grand escape from the Keep. “I didn't do much,” he replies sheepishly, ducking his head. “Yunseo found me about to take a nap in a sunbeam and I asked if he wanted to join me.”

Sangwon's smile turns into a wry grin, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, you found the key to the little one's heart instantly, then. Yunseo loves a good cuddle, even if he won't admit it out loud.” He bows his head then, hand on his chest. “Truly though, thank you. If you hadn't pinned him down like that, I hate to think where he might've ended up. That's the furthest away from the Keep he's ever gotten, and I'm afraid just how far he'll end up going as he gets bigger and stronger. I'm afraid his mother might've had my head in his distress if something had happened to Master Yunseo.”

I'm afraid Yunseo's mother will have my head after the state he must've been returned in last night, Xinlong thinks, but shakes the negative thought away a moment later when Sangwon suddenly offers him a hand up off the ground.

“If you're feeling a bit more settled, we can start getting you ready for breakfast,” Sangwon tells him, voice soft without being condescending. Xinlong can see why he gets put in charge of looking after Yunseo, he must be good with kittens, perhaps even has some of his own with whoever his mate is. “We have about an hour to get ready, but if you want a good seat, we can head down earlier.”

Xinlong wrinkles his nose in confusion. “A good seat? Isn't it just breakfast?”

Humming, Sangwon doesn't answer for a moment, hauling Xinlong to his feet and then moving over to the wardrobe, where he throws the door open and starts investigating the clothing that had already been put in there before Xinlong arrived. “Hmm, the dress code for breakfast is usually fairly casual, but we want you to look your best...”

“Dress code?” Xinlong squawks, pulling the blanket tighter around his body. “What sort of breakfast is this?”

Sangwon shoots him a mysterious little smile and pulls something out of the wardrobe made of loosely woven wool that has been dyed a beautiful gradient of deep indigos and pale mauves. Xinlong is fascinated by the colour, more interested in the dye work than the garment itself, as a dye maker by trade. He lets Sangwon take the blanket away and pull the woollen top over his head, marvelling at it as he passes the weave through his fingers. “How do they get the dyes so vibrant? I've never seen colours like this in anything but silk.” he asks, smoothing the front of the top down. It's long, almost tunic length, falling to mid-thigh, and the loose weave causes it to sit snugly on his body, flashes of golden skin visible through some of the woven patterns. The neck is loose enough to leave his collarbones fetchingly exposed, but not so loose to be indecent for a public gathering.

“There's a particular kind of flower that produces this colour,” Sangwon tells him, circling Xinlong briefly to assess the fit of the top. “And I believe they set the dyes with vinegar, but I'm not involved in the Keep's textile production.” When he catches the sudden interested spark in Xinlong's eyes he asks, “Are you interested in textiles, Xinlong?” as he produces a pair of tanned leather pants from the wardrobe, brushed to a soft finish and polish-stained with black lacquer.

They lace all the way up from ankle to hip; Xinlong has never seen anything like it before, his eyes going wide at the sight of them.

“Oh, don't look so afraid,” Sangwon teases him, helping him step into the pants with only a little bit of trepidation. “Trust me, some of the representatives from the neighbouring clans will be showing much more skin. The prince likes pretty clothes, but not something so flashy the birds mistake you for one of their own.”

“For breakfast,” Xinlong reiterates plaintively, doing his best to stand perfectly still as Sangwon laces the pants up and then stands back to admire the simple but good-looking outfit.

“It's more than just breakfast, Xinlong,” he says gently, lifting a hand to start messing with Xinlong's hair, as unbrushed and unkempt as it is. “This is the first time all the representatives will meet each other on the playing field. It's the moment to start sizing one another up and assess the enemy, so to speak. Alliances will be formed, lines in the sand will be drawn, and it's up to you to decide where you're going to slot into all of that.” He pats Xinlong's cheek affectionately. “Leo told me that you're not exactly here by choice. I think you're very brave, coming to join something like this heedless of your own desires.”

Xinlong shakes his head. “I couldn't let shame fall on my clan for not responding to a royal summons, that's all. The others are welcome to fight each other tooth and nail for the prince; I'm content doing the bare minimum to appease tradition before returning home.”

For some reason, that makes Sangwon smile even wider before he turns back to the wardrobe. “Do you wear shoes, Xinlong? I don't see any that you've brought with you.” It's a non sequitur, but Xinlong welcomes a change in topic.

“I only wore shoes back home while hunting near the rocky valley,” he explains in a small voice, “and even then, they were merely leather covers to protect my soles from injury.”

Sangwon shoots him a reassuring look. “Don't worry about it too much, shoes aren't required in the Keep; it's just an option for those who prefer it.” His brows twitch minutely, expression smoothing out almost immediately after. “Those who are closer to their human nature than the cat, that is.” Sangwon himself isn't wearing any shoes, now that Xinlong's attention has been drawn to them. He has a pretty silver bracelet looped around one ankle and some sort of ritualistic tattoo on his left foot, disappearing under the hem of his trousers, the dark brown ink swirling over his skin in intricate spirals.

His toenails have been clumsily painted with red ink by, Xinlong assumes, little child fingers.

“I'm not taking you away from a more important job, am I?” Xinlong finds himself asking, stuck on the sudden thought that Yunseo has been deprived of his normal guardian.

Sangwon, seeming to instantly know what he's thinking, simply shrugs one slender shoulder and produces an ivory comb from somewhere, taking to the task of taming Xinlong's wild hair. “Not at all. Master Yunseo is spending the morning with his family, and then it's Anxin’s turn to keep an eye on him today.” He chuckles to himself. “So, I imagine the kitchens will soon find themselves raided by two pairs of thieving hands.”

Master Yunseo. That's the third time someone has called that sweet little kitten by such a prestigious title, and Xinlong sucks his teeth, deep in thought. Should he start doing the same? Not that he intends to seek Yunseo out, considering Junseo's thinly veiled warning last night and his own fear of Yunseo's mother not taking too kindly to his scent being all over the kit.

“Does Yunseo have a lot of different people who watch him?” Xinlong remembers Yunseo's quiet, heartfelt complaint that his mother hardly has time to spend with him and everyone who looks after him is always busy with something else.

Sangwon starts to drag the comb through Xinlong's hair, firm but gentle as he tames the knots and snarls into submission. “Oh, yes, the poor thing. I'm sure he's fed up with the lot of us and that's why he's always trying to give us the slip – and succeeding, sometimes! All of the royal family's personal attendants take turns looking after him on the day-to-day.”

“You're... you're one of the personal attendants to the royal family?” Xinlong can't keep the incredulity out of his voice. “What are you doing tending to me?”

“Leo said you might be more comfortable with a friendly face after Junseo gave you the cold shoulder yesterday, so I volunteered.” He spins Xinlong around with a hand on his shoulder, pointing the comb at his own face with a flourish. “I have the friendliest face in all the Keep, didn't you know? Everyone loves me.”

That makes Xinlong laugh suddenly, the sound almost shocked out of him, and Sangwon grins, catlike and proud of himself.

The rest of their preparation is minimal – Xinlong outright refuses makeup just to go to breakfast, but he lets Sangwon find him a nice set of plain silver rings to go in the many piercings in his ears, matching rings for his fingers following soon after. Xinlong feels more dolled up than a bride on their wedding day, though he's sure he'll be one of the most plain-looking people present, if what Sangwon says is true.

Once they're both satisfied with his appearance, Sangwon walks him out of the Rose Pavilion and sends him on his way with a promise to wake him up the next morning before the gong has the chance to, which Xinlong finds more touching than he probably should. Sangwon truly is the friendliest person he's met so far, and if he sees Leo again before he goes home, he'll be sure to thank the alpha for inadvertently sending Sangwon in his direction.

Left alone then, however, Xinlong has to muster up his own courage to follow the path to the mess hall, the large, permanent marquee filled with the bright morning light and the fresh scent of the trees and greenery around them. There are two long tables set down the length of it, nine chairs on either side of each, and a tenth chair has been placed at the head of one. Xinlong wonders if there's some sort of assigned seating position, but is quick to realise that it's an ‘every omega for themselves' type of affair, all the clan representatives darting past one another trying to snag the seats on either side of the mysterious head of the table.

Xinlong himself is perfectly content to take whichever seat presents itself to him, and he finds himself sitting halfway down the second table – the one without the head seat – able to people watch the entire room from this vantage point. Directly opposite him is one of the most beautiful people he's ever seen with his own two eyes, a shifter from the Starlight clan, who hail from slightly further along the mountain side than the Royal Keep. He's bubbly and talkative but seems to quickly realise that Xinlong doesn't want to engage, so he chatters on enough for the both of them, which Xinlong is grateful for.

He isn't oblivious to the way some of the other clan representatives are staring at him as he silently helps himself to some of the sweet slices of fruit arranged in artistic platters down the length of the table. Xinlong can feel eyes on him from every direction, and even Seowon's lively prattling isn't enough to distract him from the whispers that are starting to pass between bent heads that are unsubtly tilted towards him.

“I didn't know they were inviting alphas to join the Trial,” one boy whispers behind his hand, sharing a mean giggle with the girl sitting beside him, the pair of them looking like the pretty fey sprites of legend in their floaty outfits of white gauze and silk flowers, as beautiful and petty as the Seelie Queen.

“I can't believe Seowon is actually talking to him. I saw him in the bath house last night and his glare frightened me half to death!” another girl says, her delicate hand laid over her delicate heart as she simpers delicately to the representatives on either side of her.

Yet another murmurs, “I heard he came in hours late with one of the royal guards,” in a hiss that carries all the way from the other end of the table. “I guess it's true, what they say about the clans out on the plains.”

“What's that?”

“That they'll spread their legs for the first thing that looks at them, regardless of status.”

A chorus of scandalised laughs ring through the mess hall and Xinlong's ears burn, the back of his neck flushing as he ducks his head. Subtly, he tries to pull the collar of the pretty woollen shift higher up his neck, suddenly uncomfortable with even that small sliver of skin visible in light of the accusations being thrown at his entire people. He startles when a hand reaches out and touches his own carefully, gentle fingers stroking the point of his wrist affectionately.

“Don't listen to them,” Seowon says firmly when Xinlong dares a glance up at him. His eyes are a rich brown that almost looks red in the direct sunlight, framed by thick lashes and emphasised by a brushing of glittering powder that also dusts the sweet apples of his cheeks and the dainty bow of his lips. “They've been slinging shit since yesterday morning, trying to one up each other and psyche themselves out before the Trial even starts. They think you're an easy target because they don't know anything about you.”

Xinlong is grateful for the comfort, but can't help saying, “What if they're right? I'm not exactly used to this sort of thing. What if I am an easy target?”

With a tilt of his head, his features suddenly looking sharper and foxier – sly, almost – Seowon replies, “Somehow, I don't think you are,” and taps the side of his nose like he is imparting some great secret upon Xinlong.

Everything comes to a quiet standstill roughly ten minutes later when a member of the royal guard seems to simply materialise in their midst, rising up from between the tables with no one the wiser that he'd been there in the first place. He is neither Leo nor Junseo, and Xinlong notices him immediately, his golden hair gleaming in the morning light and his small face watching each of them in silence for several long moments, as if he were nothing more than a porcelain doll silently observing its child possessor.

“Clan representatives,” he says eventually, once he's sure everyone is paying attention to him, “welcome to the official induction of this royal Mate Trial. My name is Gyehyeon, and it's my pleasure to welcome you this morning.” He walks between the tables, bare feet whispering over the grass until he is standing at the head of both, his hands behind his back. “Once you've finished eating, we'll go over the rules of the Trial and the general structure of your time here. Each of you will have your individual first meeting with Prince Junmin over the next few days; there will be a lottery drawn after breakfast to determine order. But, before that, the prince has come to visit you right now. Please make a good impression on him.”

The announcement sends a shockwave through the gathered representatives – absolutely none of them expected to see the prince this early in the proceeding. As several pairs of hands fly up to fix out of place hair or adjust outfits, nervous chatter breaking out amongst them, Xinlong sinks further down in his seat, not at all sure how he feels about any of this. He finds himself glancing around Gyehyeon to where he can see a small contingency of royal guards approaching the mess hall, all of them in the same light armour and leather tunics, standing in close formation around someone in the middle of the entourage.

Leo is pride of place in the middle of the front, leading the charge as he enters the hall and directs the rest to fall out of formation with a single gesture of his hand. The guards all step aside in a fluid motion that is so synchronised Xinlong wouldn't believe it possible if he hadn't just witnessed it with his own two eyes.

Gasps of excitement and awe echo around him as Prince Junmin steps away from his guards and approaches the tables.

He's as devastatingly handsome as all the stories say he is, with hair black as the night and skin so pale it's as if he glows faintly in the sun. His features are sharp and beautiful, shockingly blue eyes darting from face to face impassively, the pink tip of his tongue flicking over his plump bottom lip to wet it lightly. Dressed in black furs and red silk, he looks tall and imposing as he steps up beside Gyehyeon and gestures for him to move back with the other guards, but Xinlong gets the distinct impression that Prince Junmin’s apparent size comes more from the impressive aura he possesses, rather than his physical stature.

“Good morning everyone,” is the first thing the prince says, his voice surprisingly soft and velvety. “Don't stop eating on my account, please.” His incisors are visibly sharp when he smiles around at the gathered clan representatively, glittering with ornate golden filigree as is custom for royalty, the expression not touching the rest of his face at all. Junmin's eyes are still flicking over them one by one, until they come to an abrupt halt.

Directly on Xinlong, who squeaks and immediately averts his gaze.

“Which one of you is He Xinlong?” Prince Junmin asks, still so soft but cold as ice, clearly already knowing exactly who he's looking at.

Xinlong swallows thickly, all the fruit he'd just eaten threatening to come straight back up again as he raises a shaking hand. He tries to speak, really he does, would never want to pay disrespect to the crowned prince of the entire shifter kingdom, but he cannot get his mouth to form words.

Junmin says, “Look at me when I address you,” in an even softer tone that makes Xinlong's blood run cold, his eyes snapping up as if he had been commanded instead of quietly asked.

The prince has moved, silent as fallen snow, and is now standing directly behind Seowon, mere feet away from Xinlong. When their eyes lock, clear green on pure blue, the world stops, and Xinlong's breath sticks in his throat, shocked into total stillness by Junmin's beauty and sheer presence before him. They maintain silent eye contact for what could be seconds, or what could have been hours, until, finally, Junmin smiles again, something warmer and more real than before.

“Good luck in the lottery, He Xinlong,” Junmin says cryptically, nodding his head as if he and Xinlong are sharing some great secret. “I look forward to speaking to you one on one.”

And then, he’s gone, striding back towards his guards in a swish of black furs and the scent of fresh rain after a storm, not even stopping to cast a look back at the chaos that immediately erupts in his wake. Xinlong, still struck deaf and dumb by the prince's incredible eyes, is completely oblivious to all the questions being slung at him from every omega at the table, all of them to demanding to know context that Xinlong can't give them, because he has absolutely no idea what just happened.

What Xinlong does know is that his entire body is thrumming with an arousal that simmers and bubbles in his gut like liquid fire, his teeth ache in his gums with the need to bite something, and he is wet and slick in his pants.

I want to fuck the prince, is the thought racing through his head. What on earth have I gotten myself into here?

Chapter Text

A pair of hands slam down on the table next to Xinlong, and he lets out an undignified squawk of fright, nearly jumping out of his chair in his shock as it finally jolts him out of his Junmin-induced reverie. He and Seowon both look up at the girl who is now standing beside him, her face a thunderous mask of fury. She has pretty ash brown hair twisted up around her head in an elegant braid that is threaded with silk butterflies dyed various dark shades of purple and grey, and their wings flutter with every ragged breath she draws in, Xinlong's eyes drawn straight to them.

“Who the hell are you?” the girl demands, glaring at Xinlong. Her eyes are lined with silver paint, intricate swirls of it decorating her cheeks and temples. It matches the silver pendant hanging between her collarbones, and the silver bands holding up the gauzy sleeves of her purple dress, wrapped securely around her slim biceps. She's clearly wealthy – from one of the clans that are the closest to the Keep, if Xinlong had to guess.

Fingers snap in front of Xinlong's nose, and even her nails are plated in silver. “Hey, I'm talking to you, Plains Dust. Who the hell are you and why does Junminnie know your name?”

Seowon's hand darts across the table and he takes her wrist, pulling her away from Xinlong slightly, a devastatingly sweet smile on his face. “Who are you to call the prince so familiarly?” he asks with a passive aggressive tilt of his head.

The girl looks affronted as she snatches her hand out of Seowon's grip. Her scent spikes, floral and bitter like a tree shedding its leaves in the autumn sun, and she narrows her eyes at Xinlong. “I'm Minhee,” she practically hisses at them. “I'm the top ranked representative here.”

“We're ranked?” Seowon asks archly, raising a single judgemental eyebrow at her.

“Of course we are,” Minhee snaps, rolling her eyes at him. “All the clans are ranked, based on how close to the Keep you live. The closer you live, the higher your ranks – the higher your rank, the more chance you have of winning.” She puts her hand to her chest, pretending to brush away non-existent dirt off the front of her dress. It's made of silk and cut to fit, dyed a rich, inky purple that Xinlong knows must have been imported from over the mountains, where the dye makers have access to the sea and the purple shells there.

Seowon rests his elbows on the table, his chin sitting neatly on his linked fingers as he stares Minhee down. “And where do you come from, then? To be the top ranked amongst us?”

Minhee turns her nose up at him. “I don't come from anywhere,” she sniffs. And then, projecting her voice a touch louder just to be sure that everyone in the hall can hear her, she announces, “I live here in the Keep; my family has owned quarters in the fourth tier for generations.” Whispers immediately start flying, and Xinlong is silently glad that they're not being aimed at him this time, as attention shifts to Minhee, the ‘real' main rival apparent. “I grew up with Junminnie, we were thick as thieves as children. I know everything about him, so whatever... connection you seem to have with him, Plains Dust, don't think it's ever going to be able to compete with me. I know everything – from insignificant things like his favourite colour, to big, mate-worthy things like his twin si--"

“Minhee.” The cold voice startles everyone – Minhee, Xinlong, and Seowon in particular, but also everyone else in their general vicinity, leaning in close to listen to Minhee’s monologue about her own self-importance. It's Gyehyeon, all trace of good will and humour gone from the guard's face. He puts his hand on Minhee's shoulder and pulls her back a step, making her look up at him with wide eyes. “If you knew Prince Junmin half as well as you claim to do, you'd know when to keep your mouth shut about certain things. Go back to your seat and finish your breakfast; leave Xinlong be.”

When Minhee tries to protest, Gyehyeon purses his lips at her, his eyes flashing bright yellow in warning, and she goes mum, turning her face away from him sullenly. He lets her go and she slinks away to re-join her friends at the other breakfast table, shooting one last nasty look at Xinlong before she turns her back on him. Once Gyehyeon is sure she isn't going to come back, he bows politely to Xinlong and apologises for the disruption.

Xinlong, who has never had someone bow to him before, flushes bright red and stammers out, “Oh, it's nothing,” with his hands held up to hide his embarrassed face. “Thank you for intervening .”

With an acknowledging tip of his head, Gyehyeon returns to the head of the tables to keep an eye on the rest of the breakfast proceedings, and Xinlong lets out a long, low breath, dropping his hands to press both of them to his chest, where he can feel the rapid beating of his heart under the skin-warmed wool of his shift. Confrontation is not something he's used to dealing with outside professional disagreements and it has somehow managed to rattle him even more than the shocking realisation that he wants the prince.

Carnally.

Picking up one of the tooth cloths on the table, Xinlong uses it to dab the nervous sweat off his forehead and the sides of his neck, almost at the end of his limit for public interactions for that day, and it has barely begun. He pushes away the rest of his breakfast and cleans his teeth, folding the cloth neatly and leaving it on top of his plate. When he looks up, he finds Seowon watching him, beautiful face unreadable. “What?” he asks, making to pick up the cloth again. “Did I miss a spot? Is there something on my face?”

Seowon shakes his head, a tiny smile gracing his features. “You're strange, Xinlong. I like that. They always tell us that the shifters from the far away clans at the forest's edge are savage, like wild animals, but you're so polite and soft-spoken. I thought you were from one of the river clans at first.”

That makes Xinlong pause, brows creasing slightly. Is that really what the inner-forest clans think of him and his people? “My clan elder would skin me alive if she got even a whiff of the idea that I wasn't on my best behaviour with my prettiest manners. She's a terrifying old crone.” He loves her dearly; Halmoni practically raised Xinlong after his parents died when he was just a young kitten.

“Do you believe what she said?” a new voice asks, the boy sitting on Seowon's left suddenly shifting closer, his clear, amber eyes wide. “Do you think she's really that close with the prince?”

Seowon laughs, shaking his head. “Please, if there was an eligible omega in the Keep who was that close to the prince now, the king would've had them mated years ago when Prince Junmin came of age.” He taps the side of his nose again, winking at the newcomer to their conversation. “Trust me, Haneum.” Xinlong wonders if Seowon knows everyone in the Trial already. “Sure, she may have known him when they were kittens – the Keep raises its kittens communally, just like every other clan. But that doesn't mean she still knows him now. Did you see the way Gyehyeon stepped in to stop her from blabbering about the princess?” At the end of his sentence, his voice drops to a quiet whisper, especially when he says ‘the princess', and he casts a furtive gaze at Gyehyeon to make sure he's not going to be the next one reprimanded for speaking out of turn.

The new boy, Haneum, nods his head in sage understanding, but Xinlong is left as confused as before. “There's a princess?” he asks, having the good sense to drop into a whisper too. This is clearly a subject they shouldn't be talking about, but his interest has been piqued. Plus, he needs something to distract himself from the arousal still simmering low in his belly, and the steady drip of slick that is starting to slowly drive him mad. He wants to go back to his room and take care of himself, but he's sure that's most likely not an appropriate thing to do right now.

“You don't know about the princess?” Haneum asks incredulously, both his dark brows nearly disappearing into his hairline. He exchanges a wide-eyed look with Seowon, as if the pair are saying ‘can you believe this guy?’ and then he says, “How can you not know? You can't be that much younger than us.”

Xinlong shrugs, shifting his chair closer to the table so he can lean over it more. It's narrow enough that the three of them can almost press their heads together over their thoroughly abandoned food. “Gossip from the Keep rarely reaches the plains,” he says. “We didn't even realise the king was so poorly until the invitation for the Mate Trial was delivered to my clan elder.” That earns him two wide-eyes expressions of disbelief and Xinlong rubs the back of his neck nervously, looking away from Seowon and Haneum with a blush. “Don't look at me like that; I already knew I was going to be behind on etiquette and social standing, no one said anything about clan gossip too.”

Seowon lets out a little ‘ahhh’ of understanding and nods his head, nudging Haneum with his elbow. The three bend their heads in again as Seowon whispers, “What happened to the princess isn't exactly gossip, but there's plenty of it if you ever want to be filled in on it. Some of it could be relevant to the Trial, but most of it is just the staff getting bored.” He grins, winking at Xinlong. “Trust me; Minhee isn't the only clan representative that grew up here in the Keep. I'm a little older than her, but I live here too, down in the first tier. My family have been looking after the gardens for over a century.”

“Does that make you higher or lower ranked than a representative from one of the noble clans in the tree-rings?” Haneum asks curiously, and Seowon cuffs him up the back of the head good-naturedly, making Haneum giggle into his hand. He turns sombre after a beat and looks at Xinlong again. “We’ll tell you about the princess because everyone else here already knows the story, but don't go repeating it and don't say it was us who told you. You saw how cold Gyehyeon got; some of the other guards won't be as restrained.”

A sense of foreboding is starting to creep up on Xinlong, as if a cold wind has blown down his back. He squirms in his seat, no longer feeling the heat from earlier. “I won't breathe a word, I swear. What happened to the princess?” he asks in the tiniest murmur, suddenly wary of one of the guards overhearing them. He might have some sort of rapport with Leo, but he doubt that will extend far – and Junseo is probably lurking around too. Xinlong has no desire to get even further on the bad side of the omega guard than he already is.

Casting a glance over his shoulder one more time, Seowon says, “The queen lost three kittens before he finally fell pregnant with the prince... and the princess. Twins, an alpha and omega pair, a blessing from the stars themselves.” His eyes go a little misty, as if lost in thought. “I remember them when they were just tiny balls of black fluff in a basket in the queen's lap. I’d only just had my first human shift when all the staff and their families were invited to come and see the royal heirs. They hadn't even opened their eyes yet.”

“An alpha and omega pair?” Xinlong marvels, his eyes wide. It was the rarest of phenomena: while litters of multiples regularly have one kit different to the others, twins are almost always a matching set. It's a one in a million chance, skipping generations sometimes, and Xinlong isn't surprised it fell to the kingdom's beloved queen after so many losses.

Haneum nods. “No one saw them much for a year or two after they were born because there was an outbreak of the red plague and queen was so ill he didn't want to let them out of his sight, but...”

“The princess died,” Seowon whispers, his eyes shifting around, looking out for listening ears. “Even the staff were kept largely in the dark, I imagine only the queen's personal attendants and the king really know what happened, but the announcement came from the king himself. He was devastated; the poor man could barely get the words out. For a while, they thought the prince was going to pass too, but he pulled through. He's strong like that.”

Xinlong's heart aches. Red plague is a scourge upon their kingdom, sweeping through the forest in the deepest months of winter and taking any soul it touches who cannot get the cure in time. Made from a particular leaf of a particular plant that only grows on the mountain's peak, the cure is highly regulated and rarely transported out of the central forest unless the cases are absolutely dire.

The plains tribe had been much larger a decade ago, before the red plague culled their ranks.

“The poor queen,” Xinlong says, thinking unbidden about the pain of losing one of your kittens in such a way. Xinlong still carries the grief from his parents' deaths, he imagines that that grief must be even more potent in the reverse. It goes against the nature of the world, for a parent to have to bury their child. “I assume that's why no one talks about it? To spare the king and queen the pain – and the prince too, I suppose.” He receives two nods in return and vows to never bring it up again for the rest of his short stay in the Keep. “I can't believe Minhee brought it up so casually, then.”

Seowon's face pinches as if he'd just swallowed a lemon wedge. “That girl is all mouth and no skirts,” he says acidly, his sweet, jovial facade cracking ever so slightly. Xinlong makes a metal note to not fall into Seowon's bad graces. “If she speaks like that to the prince directly, she'll find herself out of the Trial on her ear, regardless of where she's from.”

“Do you know the prince at all?” Haneum asks, the volume of their voices naturally rising again now that they've steered away from such a dangerous topic. “Is he as short tempered and cold as everyone says he is?” He points his chin at Xinlong. “It almost seemed like he was flirting with Xinlong when he came in earlier; that doesn't seem to fit the stories at all.”

“I don't know him personally, no,” Seowon replies with a self-depreciating grin. “But he spends a lot of time in the gardens with his little ward when he's not busy doing princely things. From what I've seen, with that sweet kitten at the very least, he's quite soft and warm. Very neat – he always cleans up whatever mess they make, and he makes sure none of the flowers or plants get damaged in their play.” He lifts one slender shoulder with an odd expression. “Aren't we all different in private to how we present ourselves in public?”

Xinlong nods along, thinking about the strict, businesslike way he has to conduct himself when the traders from the inner-forest come to the plains to exchange food and other necessities for the black dye his clan produces. He's never been sure why their black dye seems to be such a high commodity, but he won't complain about it when the trader's bi-annual visit means his clan can eat well and live easy for several months after. He'll proudly wear the permanent black stains on his nails and fingertips as a sign of his hard work and dedication to his family.

Then, Haneum's words finally process in his head. “The prince was not flirting with me!” he hisses, low and deep, his hand flapping dismissively in front of his face. “Don't be ridiculous, I've never even seen him before. I have no idea how or why he knows my name.”

But then, he remembers Leo. Leo, standing front and centre of the prince's personal guard. Leo, who has already given Xinlong something close to advice regarding the prince and how Xinlong should interact with him. Leo, who – and Xinlong can make an educated guess here about who Leo is mated to – suggested specifically that Xinlong might appreciate a friendly presence on his first morning in such a new environment, and sent him one of the royal family's personal attendants to fit the bill.

He's plotting something, Xinlong realises, although he can't possibly fathom what.

“Perhaps it's destiny!” Seowon gushes suddenly, clasping his hands together. “The prince and the commoner, how romantic.”

Xinlong narrows his eyes at Seowon and flicks a piece of fruit skin at him in retaliation for the commoner comment, which makes Seowon shriek like he's been shot and flail around like a gutted fish. Haneum laughs, and Xinlong hides his smile by ducking his head, finding that he rather enjoys spending time with other shifters his age. Around them, the chatter of the other representatives has slowly returned to normal, although there are still curious glances being thrown in Xinlong's direction, and Minhee is definitely sulking in her seat.

Not long after, Gyehyeon clears his throat and a line of kitchen staff appear to clear the tables. One alpha woman smiles blindingly at Seowon as he quickly collects his plate with Xinlong's and Haneum's and hands the neat stack to her to save her reaching across the table with her arms already full. “That's my brother's mate,” he explains quietly once she's gone, and provides them a small running commentary on the other staff members he knows.

“It's going to be hard,” he admits after a beat, watching their backs as they return to the kitchens in the Keep, “going back to that life. After living like this for three months.” He gestures to his outfit, the beautiful silk pants and hand-woven lace top, and then at the hall in general. “Giving back all these clothes and going back to my room in the first tier, and the dirt and tools for the gardens.”

Xinlong can relate to that.

“If you weren't a gardener, what would you want to be?” Haneum asks curiously, his amber eyes wide. There's an innocence about him, the naivety of wealth and status, and Xinlong guesses he must be from one of the inner-forest clans. Those soft eyes are turned to Xinlong. “You too, Xinlong. What would you want to be, if you weren't...” he trails off, clearly not wanting to say ‘born a poor dye maker in the plains'.

Giving him a gracious out, Xinlong says, “I've never really thought about it, to be honest. The only thing I've ever really wanted in my life is kittens of my own one day. I've spent most of my life looking after other people's, and I can't wait to have some of my own.”

“That's so sweet,” Haneum coos, and if he'd been shifted, Xinlong is sure his tail would be swishing happily across the floor. “And you have such strong features too, you and the prince would make gorgeous kit--"

Seowon cuts him off before Xinlong implodes from the strength of the blush that erupted across his face at Haneum's words. “I think I'd have liked to be a teacher, actually,” he says wistfully. “I always enjoyed the few lessons we got as children, and I like the thought of helping and supporting people like that.”

“Ahh, you two are so much more selfless than me,” Haneum jokes, making all three of them giggle.

“Attention, please,” Gyehyeon's voice rings out across the hall, interrupting all the conversations in progress. The guard taps an extended claw against a glass to ring for silence, and once all eyes are on him once more, he continues, “We will draw the lottery for your first meetings with Prince Junmin now. Beginning at midday, you will be escorted one by one in the order you draw to the third tier, where you will be allowed to spend your allotted hour with the prince, under the supervision of the prince’s guards.”

Tilting his head forward slightly, Seowon murmurs, “That's why everyone is secretly hoping to draw first through seventh place; they’re the only ones who will get to see the prince today. Everyone else will be over the next three days.”

Xinlong hadn't even thought about what place he'd like to draw to meet the prince - he'd been much too affected by Prince Junmin speaking to him directly to even give the actual Trial much thought at all.

“But everyone knows that first and seventh place are the ideal slots to draw,” Haneum adds, nodding his head. “First place gets to set the bar, and seventh place usually gets extra time as the last slot of the day.” Every time he moves, the fine golden thread stitched into the hem of all his clothes glitters in the light, and Xinlong is entranced by it. “Historically, most Mate Trial winners have come from the first seven representatives to meet with the Seeker.”

Seowon shakes his finger, tutting. “Don't put too much stock in that; the queen drew last place during the king's Mate Trial, and look at them. Legend says the king nearly proposed on the spot once they'd met properly.”

At the head of the tables, Gyehyeon gestures for someone to come up next to him, and Xinlong sits up a little straighter when he sees Sangwon approaching the guard, carrying an ornate wooden box carefully in his arms as he does. “This is Sangwon, one of Prince Junmin's personal attendants,” Gyehyeon introduces the omega to the crowd of clan representatives. “You may have seen him floating around your living quarters this morning; he'll be helping to oversee your stay and make sure you're all comfortable.”

And personally seeing to Xinlong, apparently.

“Sangwon has the lottery chips for your meetings with the prince. One at a time by room number, place your hand in the box and draw out a single chip; if either one of us think that an attempt to cheat or to sabotage another candidate has happened, you will forfeit your personal meeting with Prince Junmin.” Gyehyeon glances around each of them with steel in his eyes, and if his gaze lingers on Minhee a fraction longer than everyone else, Xinlong isn't going to mention it. “Do you all understand me?”

With a chorus of affirmative noises, Gyehyeon gestures for them to start coming up to Sangwon, starting with Minhee and Seowon, who are staying in rooms one and two respectively. Xinlong settles in with a sigh, his elbows resting on the table, realising that he will be last to be called.

Minhee's silver bangle jingles against the wooden box as she dips her hand inside, her slim shoulders tense as she withdraws a flat disc of black-lacquered wood held between two fingers. It's only slightly smaller than the palm of her hand, elegant gold numbers painted on one side of it. “I suppose redraws aren't allowed?” Minhee asks morosely, and Gyehyeon has to visibly fight a smirk off his face when he shakes his head.

When Seowon returns to the table moments later, his own chip in hand, he says, “I don't know what she's so upset about – she drew number three.” He lays his chip down flat on the table, the number nine painted on it. “I'll have to make sure I wear something even nicer tomorrow, it seems.”

It's Haneum's turn to go up just a few moments later, staying in room six, and he returns with chip number seventeen and an unreadable expression on his face as he places it next to Seowon's. “Want to swap?” he mutters as he sits down again, looking mildly put-out. An excited shriek rings through the hall as the boy standing in front of the box presumably pulls the first chip, holding it aloft and doing an excited little jig on the spot before running over to his friends to show them. “I could have pulled that one,” Haneum laments, and Seowon pulls him into a hug that looks more threatening than it does comforting.

The lottery continues without much fanfare, and Xinlong passes the time until it's his turn to draw by inspecting the two chips already in front of him. They're quite old, the black lacquer crazed with age, and he can see the ghost of paint lines where the numbers have flaked off and been repainted several times over. The wood beneath is most likely from the same tree as the box itself, and as Xinlong turns it over in his fingers, he realises that the lacquer must have been made with the dye his clan produces, as his stained nails and fingertips are the exact same colour.

Ashdye has a unique colour, a very particular shade of pitch black, and Xinlong spent years mastering the recipe to be allowed to make it himself. The mountain the Keep is built into was once a volcano, thousands of years ago, and beneath the plains that Xinlong calls home are the petrified lava flats, with their naturally occurring black glass and ash rock that his clan harvests to use in their dye.

He didn't realise it was used for such prestigious things as this, and wonders what else the dye is used for in the Keep. Sangwon mentioned textiles that morning, so he assumes clothes, or possibly drapery. For funerals, perhaps?

“Xinlong, it's your turn,” Seowon calls to him eventually, stretching across the table to pinch Xinlong's cheek. “Come back to earth and give me back my chip so you can go get your own.”

Walking up to the head of the table is nerve-wracking; Xinlong can feel eyes burning holes into his back as he approaches Gyehyeon and Sangwon like a man condemned. Sangwon grins at him, adorable crooked teeth on display, and offers the top of the box to Xinlong. “Lucky last, Longlong,” Sangwon chirps, and Xinlong blinks at him, confused as to when he'd been bestowed with a nickname. Seeing his expression, Sangwon giggles and mouths, ‘Yunseo's been calling you that', at him, which makes Xinlong's chest hurt thinking about the little kitten. “Come on, the box won't bite, but I might if you take too long.”

That makes Xinlong crack a smile, and he reaches into the hole cut into the top of the box. The box itself is carved all over with roses, some edged in gold and others stained black to match the chips, and the lid itself is just one large rose, the petals circling the hole so that Xinlong feels like he's reaching down into the flower, fingers searching for the last chip. Inside the box, something bumps his fingers – warm, sturdy, someone else's fingers! – and his eyes widen.

Sangwon shushes him with a tiny wink, and Xinlong feels something being pressed into his hand. Remembering Gyehyeon's warning, he tries to drop the chip, but Sangwon gives him an almost imperceptible shake of his head, mouthing, ‘I'll explain later', so Xinlong takes the chip and withdraws his hand.

When he turns it over, the number seven stares back at him.

ᓚᘏᗢ

“What's going on, Sangwon?” Xinlong asks later that day, kneeling on his bed while Sangwon goes through the wardrobe again, picking out something for him to wear in the evening for his meeting with the prince. “I know you slipped me that chip on purpose. There's something going on here – and you and Leo are both in on it!”

“Ah, Longlong, you're so clever,” Sangwon sings pleasantly, his glittering eyes peeking out of the wardrobe for a moment, just long enough to flash another bright grin at Xinlong. “Would you believe me if I told you that the most important part of the Mate Trial has nothing to do with the Trial itself, and is actually all about winning over the Seeker's personal guards and attendants? Because we're the ones who control the entire process; whoever wins comes under our care too.”

Xinlong frowns, sitting down with a pout on his face. “Isn't that cheating?” he asks, tilting his head. “The clans would riot if they ever found out.”

Clicking his tongue, Sangwon throws something at Xinlong – a white silk underslip embroidered with tiny white flowers. “You can call it that if you want, Xinlong, but it's not cheating, not to us, and not to Junmin. Some of us raised him, some of us grew up with him, some of us have died for him over the years. We all want him to be happy; that's all any Seeker's personal attendants want for their charges. He looks after us, makes sure we're treated well and live comfortably despite our station, and in return, we look after the parts of him he won't look after himself. Like his heart.”

“And you've, what, picked me?” Xinlong asks incredulously, pointing at himself. “You barely know me! Sangwon, you only met me this morning...”

Sangwon steps away from the wardrobe and closes the door, something black and red slung over his arm. “I wouldn't say that we chose you,” he corrects, cryptic and unhelpful. “Someone certainly has chosen you, but it wasn't us. We're just abiding by their wishes and waiting to see what happens.” He shrugs one shoulder, approaching the bed with purposeful steps, his bare feet sinking into the plush furs spread across the floor. “No one is expecting you to fall in love with Junmin, Xinlong,” he says, quiet and sincere, “that's not what's happening here. We're not trying to force the two of you together like that. But, he's been so lonely these last few years, so busy without his father to help him as he takes over more and more of the king's duties, and we're worried about him. He has no proper friends, no one he can talk to other than us, and that's not the same thing.”

Xinlong's pout eases up slightly, and he can't help but think of his own existence within his clan, the only ‘young' shifter who is neither a kitten nor a proper adult; perpetually being in the other, socially, even if he has work and a purpose outside of relationships. “So, you... want me to be the prince's friend?”

“Only if you feel like it could work, of course,” Sangwon is quick to say, his pretty face so incredibly earnest that Xinlong finds himself nodding along with him without even realising. “I know all the rumours say that Junmin is cold and stubborn, or that he has a quick temper and is short with everyone, but in actual fact, he's just painfully shy. I think if he had someone he could trust, someone he could genuinely be himself with, you’d find that he's quite sweet under all his... prince-ness.”

It only takes a moment of thought, as Xinlong recalls the prince's beautiful blue eyes that had felt like they were staring into his soul, searching for something. The tiny, warm smile he had offered Xinlong. “...I’m not making any promises to fall in love, but I can try and be his friend,” he tells Sangwon, who lets out a happy exclamation and throws an arm around Xinlong in a quick hug. “I'm not very sociable, and I'm quite shy too, but I’ll do my best.”

Xinlong tries to forget the intense physical attraction he'd felt for the prince; he's sure that sort of want will only complicate things further.

“That's all we're asking for,” Sangwon insists, and then seems to set the topic aside as he holds up whatever it is that he's pulled out of the wardrobe. “I want you to wear this tonight, by the way.” And he gives the garment a little shake, grinning off to the side when he sees the way Xinlong's entire attention is immediately caught by it, green eyes lighting up.

It's a long silk tunic with a plunging neckline – no doubt why Sangwon threw the underslip at him – and the fabric is black as night. Ashdye. It shines in the light from the lantern overhead, fine threads of pure silver stitched into the tunic in the shapes of leaves, only a few at the top near the shoulders, more and more joining the pattern until the bottom hem and the long, draped sleeves are almost completely full of the overlapping embroidery, glittering and shining with every tiny movement. Miniscule red flowers are dotted in amongst the leaves, and there is a red sash draped over Sangwon's arm, the colour of both a dark, dark wine shade that is almost a perfect match to Xinlong's hair.

“That?” he gasps, finally startling himself into movement as he reaches out to pull the hem of one sleeve into his hand, running his fingers over the embroidery and marvelling at the use of his clan's signature dye to make such a regal, royal looking garment. “It's beautiful, Sangwon. Surely something like this would be more suitable to one of the formal dances in the final week?”

“Fret not, my friend,” Sangwon says, winking at Xinlong. “Everyone will have brand new outfits made for the final week. Tomorrow, when you have some free time, I'll have someone show you to the textiles rooms in the first tier so you can see how everything works, if that's something you'd like.”

Xinlong nods happily, mollified enough to let Sangwon help him into the beautiful black tunic with minimal fuss. The white slip is a lot shorter than he was expecting, barely falling past the tops of his thighs, but the tunic sits much lower, the heavily embroidered hem dipping below his knees, and he's glad for the slip when he looks down and sees just how much of his chest would be exposed without it. The collar of the tunic gapes open, both shoulders on display, and the neckline plunges all the way down to his belly. Xinlong blushes at the thought of wearing the tunic without the slip, and then blushes even harder when he finds himself wondering not just if the prince would prefer it like that, but also what Prince Junmin himself might look like wearing such an outfit.

The idea of seeing the prince in his clan's dye, as if Xinlong himself has laid a claim on him, is almost too much for him to handle.

Besides, no alpha would ever wear such a garment as this.

“Arms out,” Sangwon commands gently, and he wraps the sash around Xinlong's waist, pulling it in tight enough to show off his slender curves without cutting off air or blood flow. “There, I knew this would look incredible on you the moment I saw it!” He stands back, brushing off his hands in satisfaction before setting them on his hips and nodding, clearly pleased with himself. “Just a few little bits of sparkle, and you're ready to go.”

Xinlong turns slowly, admiring the way the black silk seems to whisper over his skin like smoke. “Already?” he asks, somewhat distracted. “But there's still a few hours until it's my turn, surely?”

Already digging through the small box of jewellery in the wardrobe, Sangwon waves him off. “You're allowed up to scope out the place,” he says confidently. “Trust me, you won't be the only one up there. Just make sure you don't run into the prince before it’s your turn and you'll be fine.” He comes back over with a long silver necklace in hand, a single string of fine chain bearing a heavy black pearl that rests right in the middle of Xinlong's chest once it's been draped over his neck. “And, if there's anywhere... in particular that you want to check out, just ask your assigned guard.”

Xinlong gives him a flat look, standing still as Sangwon starts dabbing at his face with a finger coated in dark bronze powder, smoking out the corners of his eyes. “What on earth makes you think I would know anywhere in the Keep's third tier to ask about in advance?”

“I think that you're a great listener and you retain the information that people who are important to you tell you,” Sangwon says succinctly, leaving Xinlong momentarily confused until he recalls a conversation from the day before.

There's a rope swing hanging under an apple tree in the back garden, he really likes it there. That's what Yunseo had told him, and Xinlong has no reason not to trust the sweet little kitten he grew so fond of in such a short time.

Seeing the sudden look of realisation on Xinlong's face, Sangwon smirks and finally steps away from him with a satisfied hum. “There we go, now you're ready.”

There are no mirrors in the room, but Xinlong takes Sangwon's word for it, following the attendant out into the long corridor of doors. Some are open and empty, and others are tightly closed. The sound of laughter and singing is coming from behind one, no doubt some of the clan representatives who are already friends with one another spending time together. Seowon's door is open when they reach the mouth of the corridor, as is Minhee's, and both rooms are empty to Xinlong's relief. He's not sure he would survive another encounter with the girl so soon after the first.

“Don't let that one get under your skin,” Sangwon says, when he notices where Xinlong is looking. “She's pleasant enough when she's not being an entitled brat.”

“Oh, yeah?” Xinlong asks in disbelief. “And how often is that?”

Sangwon snorts. “Not often enough for my tastes. Prince Junmin tolerates her for family's sake, but that's about the extent of it. Her older brother would have had a better chance with him, but Minhee insisted on being the one to represent their clan.” He wraps a warm hand around Xinlong's elbow and pulls him on past the corridor, heading for the mouth of the Rose Pavilion. “But don't think about any of that, just follow this path up to the main gate of the third tier.”

And he points, in the opposite direction to the path Leo had shown him the night before that leads to the hot springs.

“What do I do when I get there?” Xinlong asks, and Sangwon presses the token into his hand again.

“Show that to the guard at the gate and wait to be collected by whichever member of the prince's personal guard who has been assigned to watch over you.” He glances up at the sky, and then down to the golden sundial set into the nearby garden bed. “Number four should have just started her slot with the prince, so you've got three hours to get up there and find that spot you were thinking about.” Sangwon starts to usher Xinlong on his way, smiling at him reassuringly. “Oh, and if you plan on shifting between now and then - don't. I can excuse dirty clothes, but if you come back to me with that tunic in shreds, I'll shred you, okay?” He tilts his head with a smile so sweet it makes Xinlong's teeth ache, and the threat in his words sends chills down poor Xinlong's spine.

Sangwon is mildly terrifying when he wants to be.

Hastily, Xinlong nods, promising to keep the tunic in one piece, and then hurries away from Sangwon before any more threats can be levelled on him. As he carefully follows the path he was directed to, Xinlong finds himself taking the large black pearl in hand and turning it over in his fingers, the smooth, cool surface doing wonders to soothe the bundle of nerves threatening to unravel inside him from the pressure of this entire endeavour.

If it wasn't Leo and Sangwon, who chose me to be the one who wins the Trial? he thinks, passing bed after bed of yellow roses until he starts to see white-petalled daisies sprinkled amongst them, combined with a sharper incline in the path to indicate that he is going up a tier of the Keep, more white flowers following after. What do I possibly have to offer the prince that someone else here doesn't also have?

He reaches the gate after a few minutes of slow, ponderous walking, and groans internally when he sees a familiar omega guard outside them. Junseo watches him approach with a raised eyebrow, just as intimidating in his human form as he was in his catskin, and just as beautiful as Xinlong remembers from the night before – if not even more so now, with the golden light of the sun beaming down on him.

“You're late again,” Junseo says, and Xinlong's stomach plummets to his knees.

“W-what?” he stammers out. “How, there's still--?”

Junseo cracks a tiny smile and chuckles into his fist. “Sorry, I'm sorry, I was joking,” he says lightly, still chuckling. “I’m messing with you, Xinlong, it's okay.”

That does not help Xinlong's nerves, but he relaxes minutely when he realises that Junseo isn't mad at him like last time. Shifting on the balls of his feet, he withdraws the chip from his sleeve and holds it out to Junseo. “Sangwon said it's okay that I'm early for my turn?” he half states, half asks, voice timid. He doesn't want to get Sangwon in trouble if it's not true.

“Did he now?” Junseo mutters, taking the chip and turning it over in his hands, double checking the number with an intense gaze. Xinlong wonders how many past representatives have attempted to doctor their chips to change the number over the years. Once he's satisfied, Junseo pulls a scroll off one of the spokes of the gate and lifts one of the thin chains hanging from the belt of his light armour, a tiny inkpad on the end of it. “Come here,” he says, and crooks a finger at Xinlong. “Once you're through this gate, you must stay with your assigned guard at all times, as you have not yet been granted free roaming permission around the third tier, understand?”

Xinlong nods, and Junseo smiles at him, small but sincere.

“Good. Your guard will give you full instructions for this stage of the Trial, just listen to him and you'll be fine.” Junseo uncaps the inkpad and offers it to Xinlong. “Dip your thumb in and sign here to show you've checked into the third tier; if you leave before your allocated timeslot, you won't be allowed back in.”

Swallowing, Xinlong does as he's told, lifting his hand to the inkpad and pressing his thumb into the thick piece of felt wet with ink. As he pulls his hand away, his eyes widen slightly as he takes in the inkpad properly. “Oh,” he breathes, and stares down at a piece of his own work. From the little stone pot to the felted pad and the ink filling it, Xinlong made that inkpad in Junseo's hand. The ink on his thumb is only visible against the black stain there because it's wet and tacky as he presses his thumb to the thick parchment of the scroll.

“Are you alright?” Junseo asks curiously, having caught Xinlong's change in expression. He glances down at the inkpad, then at Xinlong's hands, and seems to put some of the pieces together. “Of course, you're the boy from the Ash Plains,” he says, a flicker of recognition in his eyes as he caps the pad. “Your clan makes these, don't they?”

Nodding, Xinlong gestures for the guard to turn it over, where there's a tiny maker's mark etched into the stone. “That's one of mine,” he says, a touch awed that something he made is now in the hands of a royal guard. “That was my job before I was allowed to actually help make the ashdye.”

“Ashdye?” Junseo repeats, tilting his head. “Is that what your clan calls the black dye you make?” He opens the gate as he speaks, ushering Xinlong through it.

Before Xinlong can answer him, his eyes fall on his assigned guard, waiting for him on the other side, and he puts his hands on his hips, clicking his tongue. “You and Sangwon are incorrigible,” he tells Leo, who throws his head back in uproarious laughter.

Junseo looks between them in confusion for a moment before rolling his eyes with a little smile and patting Xinlong on the shoulder. “If those two have taken you under their wing, I'm afraid there's no hope for you,” he says jovially, turning back to the gate. “Good luck, Xinlong, you're gonna need it.”

“Thank you, Junseo,” Leo says with a grin, waving the omega guard off. “Go back to glaring at roses, Longlong and I have work to do!” With a very colourful curse aimed at Leo and his ancestors, Junseo disappears out of sight behind the gate again, leaving Xinlong in Leo’s clutches. Leo turns his grin on Xinlong, who has to resist the urge to take a step back, eyeing the alpha warily. “Let's get started then,” Leo tells him, gently taking Xinlong by the elbow and starting to tug him along. “You look wonderful, by the way, Wonnie really outdid himself.”

Xinlong grumbles quietly but allows the compliment, ducking his head to hide his blush. “I have you two foxed out, by the way. I know you're plotting... something to do with me and the prince.”

“That we might be,” Leo easily admits, still smiling. “But it's not our master plan. We're just doing as we've been told.”

“And I suppose you're not going to tell me who's actually behind this, are you?”

“Absolutely not. Where would the fun in that be?”

Xinlong sighs, long-suffering. “Fantastic.”

“Don't look so glum, Xinlong, today is going to be great!” Leo insists, still leading Xinlong down a winding path that seems to be bordering a courtyard of some description.

There's a very well-maintained hedge blocking most of his view, but once the path turns them out on the other side of it, Xinlong gasps, eyes flitting around, trying to take in everything at once. In the centre of the courtyard is a large black marble fountain, depicting three winged cats entwined together, reaching their paws up to the sky as water mists around them. Matching statues are dotted around, rising up out of beautiful flower beds or stationed next to low benched on patches of manicured grass. The hedge has several breaks along its circular length, other pathways branching off around the tier, and Xinlong immediately knows that he's going to get hopelessly lost should he somehow get separated from Leo.

“This is the Keep's main public courtyard,” Leo says, watching Xinlong as he looks around with wide eyes. “Usually, this tier is free access for visitors, but we keep it restricted during the Trial to prevent...” he trails off, squinting, clearly trying to think of something diplomatic to say.

“Sabotage?” Xinlong suggests absently, perfectly capable of picturing the chaos that would occur should all thirty-six clan representatives be allowed to roam around here while the prince is present. The poor man would never get a moment alone with anyone.

Leo snorts. “Yes, something like that.” He pulls up one of his own belt chains to reveal a time piece, and he makes a face at it. “You've got about three and a half hours before your time with the prince starts, so let's quickly run through what's going to happen and then we can go for a walk, see if you find a spot that catches your fancy.” He waits for Xinlong to turn and face him properly, and then says, “You'll have one hour to spend with Prince Junmin, and you can largely spend it doing whatever you want, within reason of course. I'll be there supervising, but I'll try and stay out of sight as much as possible; I'll only step in if I think one or both of you are in danger. Because you're one of the last two representatives of the day, and your timeslot will go over dinner, you and number six are expected to bring a basket of food to your meeting.”

“What?” Xinlong's eyes flicker with panic. That wasn't part of the deal.

“Don't panic!” Leo is quick to reassure him, giving his elbow a little squeeze. “The kitchen staff are already preparing a food tent in a side garden, all you have to do is fill up a basket with whatever takes your fancy. We'll head over there later, when it's nearly your turn.”

Xinlong misses almost everything Leo says to him after that, too worried over the prospect of having to put together a meal for the crowned prince of the kingdom. That feels like something that should be happening much later on in the Trial, when Xinlong at least knows enough about the prince that he's not going to poison him with an allergy or something equally dramatic – and when he's learned enough about how the rich elite of the Keep like their food, as Xinlong's culinary palette is rather limited by what they can hunt and forage for on the plains.

He tunes back in when he hears Leo say, “You’re not listening to me, are you? I could say anything right now. Xinlong looks so pretty in that black robe, like a real royal consort, I can't wait to see him in a weddi--"

“Stop, oh my stars,” Xinlong hisses, and, without thinking about it, he kicks Leo in the shin like a bratty little kitten getting annoyed at their older brother. His brain catches up to his actions seconds too late, and Xinlong freezes, wondering if he's about to be arrested or something for attacking a royal guard.

Instead, Leo just bursts out laughing again, covering his mouth to muffle the loud sound and turning his head away until he's regained his composure. Xinlong distinctly hears him wheeze, “You're so cute!” and narrows his eyes at the alpha, lifting his foot off the ground again in a clear threat now that he knows shin kicking is apparently permitted behaviour. “Sorry, sorry, I'll stop,” Leo promises, crossing one finger over his heart. “I promise, I'll save the compliments on my mate's hard work for Sangwon himself.”

Xinlong nods, mollified, and puts his foot down again. He sort of wants to ask Leo to repeat all the instructions from the beginning, but he also doesn't want to waste the guard's time, so he decides to have faith in himself to not act like a complete freak around the prince. Besides, something else has come to his mind. “Leo, can we go find that apple tree? The one with the rope swing?”

For a moment, Leo seems to freeze, and then something warm enters his face, pulling his eyes and smile up as he gives Xinlong's elbow another tug. “Of course we can, it's this way.” And he sets off towards one of the gaps in the hedge. “It's a bit of a walk, because it's aaaall the way at the back of the garden, but it's the perfect place to choose.”

It does, indeed, take them quite a few minutes to get there, and Xinlong is well and truly turned around as to where they are in relation to the main courtyard by the time they're walking between gnarled apple trees heavy with red fruit. He's definitely not finding his way out of here without help. But it's more than worth it, when the swing finally comes into view. The sun seems to shine different here, filtering through the closely packed leaves and glancing off the ripe curves of the apples to fill the small clearing with dappled golden light, lighting on the old ropes holding the swing up as if they were made of braided metal instead of handwoven fibre. Much like the plains Xinlong calls home, this orchard is not silent, but it is calm, only the sounds of nature reaching Xinlong's sensitive ears, from the gentle brush of the wind to the faint rustle of leaves.

And the running of tiny feet.

He's half turned towards the sound already by the time a small figure emerges from between two trees with an almighty cry of, “LONGLONG! You came back!” and Xinlong suddenly finds himself with an armful of squirming child as Yunseo leaps into his arms from a distance of several feet.

“Yunseo,” he breathes in shock, quickly adjusting his grip so the young boy doesn't fall, bringing him in to rest on his hip again. The little kitten is dressed in a play smock made of undyed canvas that is covered with grass stains, and there's a bandana making a valiant effort of keeping his hair off his face, and he looks so cute that Xinlong nearly coos in his face. Instead, he gives him a hug, holding him close, all thoughts of warnings and proper behaviour flying out of his head now that he has his... the kitten in his arms again. “You shouldn't jump on people like that, little one, what if I'd dropped you?”

Huffing, Yunseo gently butts the top of his head under Xinlong's chin, nuzzling in as much as he can. “Leo would have caught me,” he says, sounding utterly sure of himself, and when Xinlong looks sideways at the guard, Leo is nodding, his mouth pressed flat in a clear attempt not to start laughing again, given away by the slight twitching of his cheeks. “Besides, I knew you wouldn't drop me,” Yunseo continues, just as sure, and he smiles up at Xinlong, brighter than the sun overhead.

“I wouldn't, you're right,” Xinlong replies, a little breathless, but he still reaches up with his free hand to give Yunseo's chubby cheek a gentle tug. “Have you escaped again, Yunseo? Is poor Anxin wandering around the gardens looking for you?” He's pretty sure that’s the name Sangwon said, when he was talking about who was in charge of keeping an eye on Yunseo today.

Yunseo pouts. “Anxin's taking a nap, but I wasn't tired, so I left him there to come find you!”

“Did you convince Anxin to raid the kitchen for sweets again and now he's eaten himself into a food coma?” Leo groans, groaning louder when Yunseo nods happily. “This kid, I swear...” He sighs. “Where is he, Yunseo? I'll go get him before he wakes up and cries because he think he's lost you again.”

Yunseo points back the way he'd come from. “By the duck pond,” he says, and then helpfully adds, “He's got that funny hat on, you can't miss him!”

Pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, Leo points the other one at Xinlong. “You, do not let that kitten out of your sight until I get back. And don't leave this clearing. I won't be long.” And then he's loping off into the gardens, leaving Xinlong alone with Yunseo, who is grinning in a way that suggests that's exactly what he wants.

“You really are a menace, aren't you?” Xinlong asks him, giving Yunseo a little bounce as the kitten giggles into his hand. “Are you going to run away from me too? Because, I warn you, I will either trip over or get lost in this maze of a tier. And then I'll be very sad and Sangwon will eat me for getting this robe dirty.”

Yunseo shakes his head. “No, I won't. I wanna stay here with you.” And, apparently to prove his point, he wraps his little arms around Xinlong's neck and holds on just as tight, his face pressed into Xinlong's neck. “I like you. You're the only one who wants to spend time with me. No one is making you.”

Xinlong doesn't really know what to say to that, but he also gets the feeling that Yunseo doesn't want the rationality of an adult who can sympathise with a parent's incredibly busy life getting in the way of childcare, no matter how much they may want to be there. Instead, he carries Yunseo over to the swing, and, after giving it a quick stability test with his foot, sits down on the old wooden seat. It's only a few planks of apple wood lashed together to form a seat with a low back that is held together with ropes and faith, but it's worn smooth and comfortable, and Xinlong is positive it's been hanging from this tree for a very, very long time. There's more than enough room for omega and kitten to sit side by side, possibly even enough room for a second person to join them, but Xinlong keeps Yunseo in his lap instead, lets the kitten rest back against his chest as he swings them gently with little kicks of his feet against the grass.

“You look really pretty today,” Yunseo says after a few minutes of comfortable silence, tilting his head back to look up at Xinlong. “You're dressed up like my mama. Is it for the Trial?”

Xinlong hums, nodding his head. “I'm supposed to meet the prince today,” he says absently, not really thinking about that anymore, all of his attention focused on Yunseo, making sure he's not going to slip on the silky fabric of the robe.

“Are you nervous?”

“I was, earlier,” Xinlong replies, truthful. “But I'm not anymore. He's just another shifter, really. Why should it be any different than meeting you? Or Leo, or Sangwon?” For some reason, that makes Yunseo beam at him again, before he turns his face away, looking out across the orchard. Xinlong continues, “Sangwon told me the prince is lonely. I know what that's like, you know. Back where I come from, there's no one else the same age as me. All the kittens born the same time as me have either moved on with their mates, or...” he trails off, wary of staying child-friendly.

But, Yunseo just pats Xinlong's knee. “Or they died?” he asks, nodding solemnly when Xinlong doesn't say anything. “I'm sorry, Longlong.” He leans back again, making himself comfortable, reaching back with a little grunt to extract the large pearl from where it had been digging into his back. “A black pearl!” he exclaims when he sees it properly, and it looks huge in his small hand, his happy face reflected in its smooth surface. “Is this yours, Longlong?”

“Ah, for today, it is,” Xinlong says, not sure how to explain to a child who has grown up in the wealth of the Keep that Xinlong's clan are so poor that the only jewellery any of them own are usually handmade mating bracelets that get passed down from elders to new couples. He cups his hand under Yunseo's, leaning forward enough that he can press his cheek to the kitten's so both of their faces are reflected in the pearl, smiling brightly as Yunseo giggles at the silly distortion caused by the round jewel. “It must have come from a long way away to be turned into a beautiful necklace here,” he says wistfully. “I've always wanted to see the sea.” He's afraid of water and can't swim, but there's something so magical about all the stories of the ocean that makes Xinlong desperately want to see it, at least once in his life. To feel the salty breeze and see the blue waves that stretch on until they kiss the skies.

Yunseo makes a little chirping noise, perking up. “I was born near the sea! It's so nice there, Longlong. We go back on my birthdays. Maybe you can come with us this year, so you can see the sea, and I can see my papa.” He sighs, something small and sad that makes Xinlong's heart clench, and he tightens his hold ever so slightly, as if he could squeeze all the sadness right out of Yunseo's body.

“Your papa lives by the sea?” he asks quietly, wondering how it is that Yunseo's obviously high born mother lives in the Keep, but not his father. Even if the alpha were of lower class, they still should have been invited to live in the Keep as a family, per tradition.

“No, he's buried there,” Yunseo says, and Xinlong sucks in a sharp breath, worried he's just royally put his foot in it. The kitten in his lap fiddles with the pearl in silence for a moment before adding, “I never knew him. He died before I was born. So I don't miss him, not really. I miss the idea of having another parent.”

“I miss my parents, too,” Xinlong murmurs, nuzzling his cheek against the top of Yunseo's head to let his calming scent soothe the last of the kitten's sadness away. Letting him know that Xinlong understands. “I wish I could go to the sea with you, but once the Trial is over, I'll have to go home.” And he's back to being guilty again, suddenly realising that Junseo was right to warn him away from Yunseo.

He doesn't know who's going to be more upset when Xinlong has to leave – Yunseo, or Xinlong himself.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Leo returns silently sometime later, and stays hidden just out of sight behind one of the apple trees, watching Xinlong and Yunseo with careful, calculative eyes.

“Is that him?” Anxin asks, bullying his way under Leo's arm so he can see around the trunk too. His ‘stupid hat’, as Yunseo loves to call it, hangs down his back, the string caught in his mouth as he chews it thoughtlessly. “I don't think I've ever seen Yunseo sit that still for anyone except Junmin before.”

Yunseo is curled up in Xinlong's lap on the swing, the pair talking to each other quietly as Xinlong rocks them with the toe of one foot anchored in the grass, his arm secure around Yunseo's waist to keep him on safely.

“Shhh, you are the worst spy ever,” Leo whispers, tugging on a lock of Anxin's hair to make the younger alpha be quiet. “Don't disturb them. Yes, that's him. I wondered if maybe what I saw the other day was a fluke because Yunseo was tired after running so far away from the Keep, but, no. There it is again.” He starts absently stroking Anxin's head, a habit most people accidentally develop around Anxin because he constantly looks like he needs head pats. “They've got a connection. Something special.”

Anxin hums thoughtfully. “And you’re sure he's an omega? Not an alpha?”

Leo shoots him a flat look. “Well, I didn't give the poor boy a cavity search, but yes. And Sangwon is sure too, he'd know better than either of us.”

“Interesting.” Anxin starts to grin. “Hey, if Junmin doesn't end up liking him, maybe I can--"

“Don't even think about it,” Leo chastises him, smiling fondly down at Anxin. “You've got half the Keep after you already, you don't need every pretty person you lay eye on.”

Anxin grins. “Spoil sport.” Then, he starts to shift restlessly. “...How long are we going to stand here watching them?”

“Until I have to take Xinlong to the food tent,” Leo murmurs. “Stop squirming, you're going to crack a twig or something.”

“I'm bored,” Anxin whines.

“Oh my stars, go home,” Leo tells him. “I relieve you of royal babysitting for the day, get out of here. Go bother Jiahao or whatever it is you do for fun when we're not looking.”

Anxin's smile is blinding, and he bounds away like a hyperactive rabbit the moment he's allowed, leaving Leo to keep an eye on the omega and kitten in the grove.

When he'd stumbled upon them yesterday, desperately chasing Yunseo's scent through the forest, hoping against all hopes that the slippery kitten hadn't gone so far that Leo was going to have to call for backup and draw attention to the fact that Yunseo was missing in the first place – Leo had been shocked into stillness. It was like a scene straight from a fairy tale, a beautiful omega with red fur so dark its as if the gods of wine had personally coloured it, stretched out and asleep in a sunbeam with a tiny golden kitten curled up on his belly. Safe and serene, as if they belonged together.

He'd been loathe to disturb them, but duty called – and when Yunseo is concerned, duty calls hard.

Taking Yunseo away from the strange omega, away from Xinlong, had been an exercise in patience like nothing Leo had ever experienced, trying to quell Yunseo's furious tantrum before bringing him home. Even with Sangwon's help, passing the wailing kitten between the two of them for several hours, it hadn't worked fully, and only finally passing Yunseo off to Junmin had made the last of his tears dry up. Of course, explaining to Junmin why Yunseo had been in floods of tears had been another experience all together, but Leo thinks it's actually working out fairly well now.

He had not expected Junmin to actually take the initiative to try and introduce himself to Xinlong, but Leo feels not unlike a proud father every time he thinks about it. Even if Junmin had had to go lie down for a while after putting himself out there like that, irrationally terrified that he'd just made a huge fool of himself in front of a bunch of people he was about to be forced to spend time with.

Leaning against the tree, Leo watches as Xinlong makes Yunseo laugh, the pair playing some sort of game with their hands on the swing, Xinlong patiently teaching the usually impatient little kitten until they're playing with ease. If Leo didn't know any better, if this is the scene he stumbled across accidentally, he would think them mother and child, with the almost heartbreakingly soft and affectionate expression on Xinlong's face. Loving.

He's heard of omegas and kittens forming bonds like this before, but never one so quick – or so strong.

The rest of the plan had better work, or Leo and Sangwon are going to have three broken hearts on their hands to deal with.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Yunseo is starting to fall asleep against Xinlong as the sun sinks lower and lower in the sky, the light turning pink and orange and setting the apples aglow like tiny lanterns. Xinlong absently reaches up for one and plucks it off the tree, biting into it and having to muffle his pleased groan at how crisp and sweet the fruit is.

“They say the king's grandmother planted the original apple orchard,” Yunseo murmurs sleepily, curling closer into Xinlong's hold and accepting the piece of apple that the omega breaks off for him. “To celebrate when her omega had their first kitten.”

“That's beautiful,” Xinlong says, looking back around the grove of trees with a new appreciation in his eyes. “To think that someone loved their mate and children so much they would go to all this effort, and that we're still enjoying the literal fruits of her labour so many years later.”

“It is beautiful,” Leo says, and to his credit, Xinlong doesn't jump this time when the alpha appears suddenly from behind a tree. “Hey there, sleepyhead,” he says to Yunseo, “how about we get you up to bed so Xinlong can go pick out some food to go woo the prince with, okay?”

Xinlong blinks, his eyes darting back up to the sky. He hadn't realised that much time had passed. “Is it nearly my turn already?” he asks Leo, who nods, and inclines his head back to the path towards the courtyard. “We'll go get some food and then come back here, right?” Another not from Leo, and Xinlong realises that he's going to have to give Yunseo back. Again. And he doesn't want to do that, not yet. He bites his lip and gives Yunseo a little bounce in his lap, the kitten already starting to make a fuss about being separated from Xinlong again. “Do you want to come help me get the food, little one?” he asks, scratching his fingers through Yunseo's hair and knocking the bandana down over his eyes with a quiet laugh. “And then, in exchange, you can go to bed without making Leo's life any harder, okay?”

Pretending to think about it just long enough to push his bandana back up, Yunseo nods, now looking much more awake. “Deal!” he says easily.

Leo squints at them, his hands on his hips as he mutters to himself, “Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea... you two are going to be a menace together.”

But the deal has been struck, so Yunseo is allowed to stay glued to Xinlong's side as Leo leads them towards the food tent that has been assembled, where they find a low table that is absolutely laden with food, practically bowing in the middle from the weight of all the dishes there. Xinlong eyes the table warily as Leo hands him a wide reed basket. It's as he fears; he only recognises a handful of the dishes on the table, most of which are probably considered simple or plain ‘peasant food', except for some of the sweets that are so popular across the kingdom that even Xinlong has seen them before.

Seen only, that is. Never tried. A trader brought some out to the plains once, and Xinlong had given his portion to the younger kittens so they could savour it more.

Long story short, Xinlong has absolutely no idea what to put into a basket he's going to present to the prince.

Subtly, given there are two other guards present on either end of the table, and several members of the kitchen staff who Xinlong assumes are going to take any leftovers back to the kitchens – at least, that's what he hopes is going to happen to the leftover food – he glances at Leo. Leo isn't looking at him; conversing instead with one of the guards near the table, so Xinlong won't be getting any help from there.

Xinlong bites his lip, basket in one hand and the other clutched in both of Yunseo's. The kitten had slipped from his arms when they'd spotted the other guards, and is now attempting to hide in the hem of Xinlong's robe as if he's afraid the guards might take him away. Now, though, as Xinlong approaches the table, he feels Yunseo tugging at his hand and he leans down so the kitten can speak to him without shouting.

“Grab that one,” Yunseo says, pointing at a small, flat dish near the front that has skewers of grilled meat on it. They're without sauce or seasoning, and Xinlong narrows his eyes. They're possibly rabbit, they look similar to the ones Halmoni makes for their birthdays and other important events, and he looks back to Yunseo curiously. Yunseo nods, pointing at the plate again, and Xinlong shrugs his shoulder, setting the basket on the only clear part of the table so he has a free hand.

Once the rabbit skewers are in, Yunseo points at a steaming basket with soup dumplings inside it, and then a few very basic side dishes, plain white rice, and finally, some sliced fruit, some wrapped sweets, and a dark brown jelly topped with cream that is the fanciest thing to end up in Xinlong's basket.

When he stares at what he's put together, he has a moment of doubt. This is what Xinlong would pick for himself, simply because he's wary of trying new foods in front of strangers when he doesn't know what they are, or the etiquette around eating them. But then he sees Yunseo nodding in satisfaction, the kitten smiling up at Xinlong like he's done the best job ever, and Xinlong remembers the sheer certainty in Yunseo's voice when he spoke about Prince Junmin the day before, and he nods too, content with his choices.

“Leo,” he calls to get the alpha's attention, and Leo trots over with his eyebrows raised. “I'm done,” Xinlong says, holding the basket up for Leo's approval.

Leo takes a long time looking over the contents, shooting the occasional knowing look at Yunseo, before nodding his head. “Perfect. Back to the swings, then. Your timeslot starts in about fifteen minutes.”

Which is how Xinlong finds himself sitting on the swings again, with his basket of very un-princely offerings resting on the grass a few feet away, and a very stubborn Yunseo still clinging to his front. “Yunseo, you promised,” he reminds the kitten quietly, and that at least gets a small nod of acknowledgement from the boy. “Why don't you want to go, little one? You're so tired you can barely keep your eyes open.” And it's true, Yunseo really is half asleep against Xinlong's chest, his eyelashes fluttering and his head bobbing sleepily.

“Don't wanna leave you again,” Yunseo says, his voice warbling, and Xinlong can tell that he's only moments away from a very tired tantrum. Leo is standing by the trees, ready to whisk Yunseo off to bed and be back before the prince arrives, and he looks torn between intervening or watching the scene play out with Xinlong taking the lead. “I wanna stay with you.”

Xinlong puts a hand on Yunseo's head and brings him down to fully rest against him. “How about you fall asleep right here and then Leo will put you to bed?” he offers, and Yunseo just nods, snuggling down into his chest, the black pearl clutched in his hand. He's still not asleep, not just yet, but Xinlong can tell it won't take much longer, so he lets out a tiny waft of his scent, strong and calming, in the hopes that it will lull him that last little step.

But then Yunseo perks up again, all three of their heads turning in the same direction at the sound of approaching footsteps.

From between the trees emerges a figure draped all in black and red, the same furs and silks as that morning, and Prince Junmin emerges into the clearing, brushing a few stray leaves off his shoulders. “I'm early, I know,” is the first thing he says, directed at Leo, who raises his hands silently and gives a somewhat theatrical bow before stepping back into the shadows.

Junmin turns his ice blue eyes on Xinlong and it's as if time freezes again, a gentle smile softening the prince's sharp features. He looks... tired, eyes a little shadowed, face a little wan, and Xinlong imagines it's probably been quite exhausting, having to entertain six strangers in six hours, giving each of them the same level of attention and care they deserve.

As they stare at each other, both seemingly unwilling to break the silence between them, Yunseo finally slides out of Xinlong's lap and crosses the distance between the swing and the prince, simply walking straight into Junmin's leg and wrapping his arms around it, exactly as he had to Xinlong the day before, curling a small hand in the hem of the fur wrap the prince is wearing.

“You finally came,” he says, and he sounds as tired as Prince Junmin looks. “I stayed awake just to see you tonight.”

That breaks the spell between Junmin and Xinlong, and Junmin immediately looks down, then bends down, scooping Yunseo into his arms and lifting him up. “You brave soldier,” he murmurs, in a voice so soft and velvety Xinlong's cheeks turn pink in inappropriate arousal. The prince cards his fingers through Yunseo's hair and then presses a kiss to his forehead, tucking him in against his neck and chest. “Go to sleep, Yunseo. Let Leo take you to bed, baby, or you'll be too grumpy to play tomorrow.” Then, he looks at Xinlong again, that warm smile still on his face. “Thank you for keeping him company, Xinlong. I hope my ward here hasn't given you too much hassle.”

Xinlong is on his feet immediately, betrayed eyes aimed at Leo's conveniently turned away face. “You let me cavort around with the prince's ward?!” he hisses at the alpha, who puts a hand over his ear and starts to whistle, as if he doesn't hear anything at all. “Leo!”

Junmin laughs, the sound higher and breathier than Xinlong ever expected it to be. “Don't blame Leo, he’s incapable of saying ‘no' to Yunseo over anything ever.” Said kitten is now definitely asleep in Junmin's arms, and he leaves another lingering kiss on the top of Yunseo's head before carrying him over to Leo and passing him into the guard's arms. “Take your time, Leo,” he murmurs, his hands still lingering, as if he, too, is unwilling to let go of the precious little boy. Xinlong can relate. “We'll be here when you get back.”

Silently, Leo bobs his head and then turns on his heel, and Junmin and Xinlong both watch his back until he disappears from sight, leaving them alone together.

Xinlong sucks in a sharp breath, wondering if this is the moment when the prince's warm demeanour disappears and he is reprimanded for even looking at the prince's beloved ward. From what Xinlong understands, the prince's ward isn't even allowed out of the royal family's tiers, kept under strict guard and protection, and has hardly ever been seen by anyone outside the Keep. He suddenly understands the desperation Leo had exuded yesterday, and Sangwon's true gratefulness, considering how far outside the Keep the prince's ward had managed to escape without anyone catching him.

Although, Xinlong swears that all the stories claim the prince's ward is an orphan, when he has definitely heard several mentions of Yunseo's mother in the last two days.

When Junmin finally turns around, his face is just as warm and pleasant as when he entered the apple grove, and he finally walks over to Xinlong, stopping a few feet away and putting a hand on the back of his neck. He's just painfully shy, Sangwon had said, and Xinlong can practically feel it in the air, a nervous thrumming energy that isn't his own.

The prince is more anxious about this meeting than I am, he realises with a jolt, and licks his lips, trying to find his words to save the prince the stress. “Would you like something to eat?” he asks, deciding to skip the introductions – technically, they do already know each other's names after that morning's meeting. “Yunseo helped pick everything out, and I'm going to assume he knows what he's talking about when it comes to your food likes.”

Junmin's eyes widen slightly, and they're truly such a captivating shade of blue, almost unnatural in his pale face, yet only adding to his beauty instead of detracting from it. He's been done up for these meetings too, dark powder swept across his lids to emphasise their feline shapes, and something dark and shiny applied to his lips, his hair styled back and off his face except for a few fine strands that fall artfully across his brows. His eyes dart to the basket, looking almost wary for a moment, and then his expression evens out.

“Yes, thank you,” he says, sounding sincere. “I was supposed to eat with the last representative but, well...” and he pauses for a moment, and then he blushes, and he no longer looks intimidating at all. In fact, Xinlong thinks he's quite adorable. “It's shameful for a prince to admit, but I don't like a lot of foods. I'm boring like that.”

Xinlong smiles at him, bending down to pick up the basket. “Plain and simple is all I know when it comes to food anyway,” he admits, and inclines his head towards the swing. “Prince Junmin, will you eat with me?” it comes out as a low purr, which Xinlong was not intending, and it makes Junmin's blush darken ever so slightly. So cute, he thinks, sitting on one side of the swing. “You look quite exhausted.” And he pats the other side, keeping the basket balanced on his knee.

“...I really am,” Junmin says in an embarrassed rush, and he finally bursts into motion, taking off his fur wrap and slipping onto the swing. Just as Xinlong thought that morning, he's a lot slimmer under his furs than he looks, and there's still several inches between them as Xinlong shifts the basket over so they're both balancing it. “Thank you, Xinlong, really,” is what Junmin says next, ducking his head under the guise of inspecting the food properly. “Yunseo can be a handful when he doesn't get his way. I love him dearly, and one of my constant regrets is that I simply can't spare enough time to be with him as much as he wants me to, and I'm sorry that his frustration at me is so often taken out on my attendants – and now you.”

Unsure if he's actually allowed to do this, Xinlong puts a careful hand on Junmin's arm, reassuring and friendly. “It's no problem at all. If anything, I should be apologising to you for spending time with him without permission.”

Junmin laughs quietly, looking up at Xinlong with a tiny grin. “I don't think I could make that child abide by my permissions even if I tried.”

“So, Leo isn't the only one who can't say ‘no' to him, then?” Xinlong teases, and the prince laughs again, nodding in agreement. He seems to be hesitating between eating and carrying out a conversation, and so Xinlong takes the lead again. “Here, eat. It's going to go cold soon. I don't mind just sitting by you and eating, if you need to recover from all those other meetings.” He shivers lightly, remembering that one of the people Junmin met with earlier was Minhee. “I imagine some of them are... rather overwhelming.”

“That's one way of putting it,” Junmin mutters, reaching immediately for one of the rabbit skewers.

And so, they sit in a very comfortable silence, eating together and getting used to one another's scents. Xinlong had thought earlier that the prince’s scent was like fresh rain, but now that he's so close, he finds that it's much sweeter than that, almost floral, like morning dew on the petal of a rose. It suits him, subtle and soft and slightly warm, but with a prickle hiding underneath. In comparison, Xinlong's scent is darker, earthier, like sunbaked clay and warm wood, the two swirling together in a neat combination that settles pleasantly around them.

I think I could stay like this for hours and not notice the silence, Xinlong thinks, picking up a soup dumpling and offering it to Junmin, who had already been reaching for one. In return, Junmin passes him a handful of rice, and they smile at each other, shy and new, connecting with one another on a level that doesn't require words, not yet.

Briefly, Xinlong recalls what he said to Sangwon that morning, and realises he was a fool.

Maybe I could actually fall in love, he thinks. And that thought isn't as terrifying as he always thought it would be.

Chapter Text

When the food runs out, the conversation starts.

Xinlong isn't even sure which of them speaks first, but suddenly they're talking, and they're laughing, and the basket with all their crockery ends up on the grass as Junmin starts to gently rock the swing with practiced ease. They've shifted slightly on the seat, the space between them shrinking as they turn in towards each other, knees touching, ankles pressed together. Xinlong's legs are bare, his cool skin sliding against the smooth, body-warm silk of Junmin's near floor-length over robe, the rich red fabric trailing in the grass.

The prince is incredibly soft spoken, to an almost surprising degree for what Xinlong expected of a royal alpha, but when he laughs, the sound seems to dance out of him as if Junmin himself wasn't expecting it, and he brings a hand to his mouth each time as if to catch his humour before it escapes. His hands are beautiful, pale and long-fingered in a way that Xinlong nearly envies, practically glowing under the embroidered hem of his sleeves, his nails kept long and round and inlayed with real glimmering gold.

As they talk, they both slowly start to relax, opening up more as the sky dims above them and the trees light up with glowing insects and tiny glass lanterns that seem to burst into flame on their own – though Xinlong suspects it's most likely Leo's doing, the guard staying hidden in the shadows, unobtrusive and supportive. As Junmin tells him of some of Yunseo's many hijinks over the years since he was brought to the Keep as a baby in Junmin's arms, Xinlong is completely entranced by the way the lights play off the prince's eyes, turning them a burning silver, Junmin's entire face seemingly lit up from within as he gushes about the precious little kitten.

There is a beauty mark on his left eyelid that Xinlong stares at for a long time, another on the tip of his nose, and yet another just kissing the red-stained edge of his top lip, and Xinlong, who has never even kissed anyone before, is overcome with insane thoughts of leaning forward to press his own lips to one or all three of them.

Junmin notices his staring after a moment and pauses mid-sentence, eyes darting away shyly as that sweet pink blush stains his pale cheeks again. He's incredibly bashful, Xinlong has quickly learned, easy to blush and even easier to fluster, and the prince ducks his head as he mumbles out a shy little, “What is it?”

“You're so...” Xinlong starts, and then stops, unsure if what he wants to say will cause offence or not. The alphas of his clan can be quite temperamental with easy prides to wound.

“Handsome?” Junmin offers, sounding slightly glum. “Sharp? Regal?” Words he clearly hears quite often, and doesn't appear to appreciate.

Xinlong shakes his head and, without thinking, catches one of his fingers under Junmin's chin and turns the prince's face back up towards him. “Pretty,” he breathes, once those enchanting blue eyes are back on his own bright green. “You're so pretty, my prince.”

A tiny squeak escapes Junmin, and his blush darkens, spreading from cheek to cheek like a blooming flower. “A high compliment, coming from you,” he whispers, and lifts his hand to take Xinlong's wrist in his fingers, bringing it up to his mouth to ghost his lips over the black-stained skin of his middle knuckles. “You're like something out of a dream.”

It's Xinlong's turn to duck his head shyly, curling his hand in Junmin's as the prince brings them down to his lap. “I don't usually look so... refined,” he says, a promise in his words. “All of this is completely foreign to me.”

“Food isn't the only thing where simple is often better,” Junmin muses in a strange voice, and Xinlong looks up just in time to see something wistful and heartbreaking in his eyes, as though the prince is silently yearning for something that even his blessed royal life in the Keep cannot provide him. He squeezes Xinlong's hand and smiles. “You don't have to dress up if it makes you uncomfortable, Xinlong,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “I know the attendants can be very... insistent, but the point of this Trial is for me to get to know you. The real you. Not a manufactured image of you that they think I want to see.” His eyes sweep over Xinlong's outfit as he speaks and he adds, “Although, you do look breathtaking in that robe. I'm pleased it ended up in your wardrobe, of all of them.”

Xinlong pauses, filtering everything Junmin just said, reading between the lines. “This robe?” he asks, free hand picking at the plunging neckline absently. “This is... Is this robe yours?”

“Oh, yes,” Junmin says, as if Xinlong should already know this. “All the wardrobes are filled with clothes from the royal family. It's supposed to be part of the game, to see which candidates end up with pieces that belong to me, some superstition about fate or something like that. But I don't believe in that.”

“This is yours?” Xinlong repeats again, remembering the thought he'd had earlier about Junmin wearing this exact robe, now faced with it again, the image of the prince's lithe form wrapped in the inky black of Xinlong's home clan. I want him, Xinlong thinks again. Like I've never wanted anyone before.

Junmin nods, his smile picking up at the corners in amusement. “Yes; I don't wear it very often though, however much I'd like to. And,” and he leans in slightly, murmuring into Xinlong's ear, “I don't usually wear a slip underneath it.”

“Oh my stars,” Xinlong wheezes, and has to close his eyes for a moment, pressing his thighs together as a bolt of arousal shoots through him. His traitorous brain wonders if the prince is as pale under his clothes as his hands and face, and he has to resist the urge to slap himself in the face. “Sangwon is evil,” he manages to get out, and Junmin tilts his head curiously, but doesn't disagree with him. “Your... your personal attendant has decided that he's in charge of my appearance while I'm here,” he explains, which makes Junmin chuckle.

“Then you can tell him he chose very well,” Junmin says, turning Xinlong's hand over in his lap so he can see the dye stains better. “It's fitting, I think. You probably made the Night’s Kiss that colours most of my clothes. If anyone deserves to wear the fruits of your labour, it's you.”

Xinlong blinks. “Night's Kiss?” he asks.

“The black dye,” Junmin explains. “Is that not what you call it?”

It's such a beautiful name, Xinlong thinks, for something that burns my lungs and deteriorates my vision with every passing year. “No,” he says, “we call it ashdye, after the volcanic ash and glass it's made from.”

Junmin asks him for more information, eyebrows raised in genuine interest, and so Xinlong explains the dye making process to him, from going far out beyond the boundaries of his small village to the cracks and crags in the plains that go down to the petrified lava flats below, to the multiple days and nights he has to sit by his large iron drum pot, slowly boiling the dye to remove the impurities. As he tells Junmin about having to knead the resulting paste with his hands, stretching it and working it until it's silky smooth and can be slowly mixed with oil and acid and finely milled ash until the final dye is achieved, he notices the prince's awe, his true fascination, and realises that – while everything currently around Xinlong is new and foreign, everything that makes up the world Xinlong comes from is new and foreign to Junmin.

Soon, he's telling the prince about the nights he spends sleeping under the stars during the summers, in nothing but his catskin as he basks in the lingering sun-heat in the grass and stones; the rowdy nights around the central bonfire in the village when the entire clan comes out to spend time together, kittens hanging off Xinlong's arms as he dances with them to the elders' ancient songs; the moments of true peace he experiences standing in the early morning breeze as he watches the sun rise and paint the heavens red and gold.

“You know, you can't even see the sun as it rises from the Keep,” Junmin says, turning longing eyes up to the sky. “The mountains are in the way.” He shuts his eyes, a serene smile appearing on his face. “I remember the first time I watched the sun come up; we'd travelled all night to reach the mountain peak before dawn, and we were heading down the other side of the range towards the sea when the sky was suddenly awash with light. I just stood there, stunned. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.”

Xinlong nods in understanding, rubbing his thumb over the back of Junmin's hand. “The simplest things can hold the most beauty,” he says, looking directly into the prince's eyes.

Overhead, as if summoned by the mention of her lover, the moon shines down on them, surrounded by all her beloved stars, the tender light washing the small apple grove in silver and shadows. Called by the moon as all shifters are, Xinlong is filled with the desire to assume his catskin for the night, but Sangwon's sweet threat rings in his ear and he winces.

Besides, he's sure getting naked in front of the prince on their first meeting probably isn't the most appropriate thing to do.

But then Junmin asks, “Would you mind if I shifted?” his eyes open again and staring up at the night sky. “I've been so busy today that I haven't had time, and the itch is starting to settle in.”

“I'm pretty sure I don't actually have the right to tell you what to do, Prince Junmin,” Xinlong says with a small laugh at the withering look Junmin shoots him. “But if you will, then so will I. I usually sleep in my catskin, but I was so exhausted last night after travelling so far I forgot to shift before getting in bed.”

“Been there, done that,” Junmin commiserates with his free hand pressed to his heart. “You can change here, if you like, I'll go into the trees so Leo can take care of my clothes. If you think Sangwon will be angry at you for damaging something, you have no idea how angry he'll be at me if I come back to my rooms with torn clothing. Again.” And with that, he stands from the swing, reluctantly letting Xinlong's hand slip from his grip as he bends to retrieve his fur wrap from the ground.

His scent lingers, richer and more floral from his contentedness, and Xinlong basks in it for a moment as Junmin slinks into the trees again, letting it wash over him. It's unlike any alpha's scent he's ever smelled before, delicate and welcoming instead of intense and overpowering. He likes it far more than he thinks he should.

Xinlong waits for a beat before he stands too and very, very carefully removes the pearl necklace and red sash, resting both safely on the swing before taking off his robe and slip and shifting as fast as physically possible. He digs his claws into the soft ground and stretches, tail curling and fur fluffing up as the change settles, his ears flicking while he adjusts to the sounds around him again.

“What are you doing?” he hears Leo's voice hissing, so quiet that he wouldn't have picked it up if he were still in human form. “This is dangerous, Junmin. Your mother is going to kill me if he finds out.”

Junmin's reply is muffled behind fabric, Xinlong can hear the rasp of it over skin as the prince's robes are pulled over his head. “What my mother doesn’t know won't hurt him. Or me. It's fine, Leo, stop fretting. You're the one who was pushing so hard for this.”

“I wasn't expecting you to hit it off this well, this fast,” Leo grumbles, and Xinlong thinks he probably shouldn't be listening to this conversation.

Feeling guilty for accidentally eavesdropping, he lies down on his belly and buries his head under his paws, getting comfortable as he waits for Junmin to finish what is clearly a very serious discussion (about Xinlong, which he will unpack later) with Leo.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Leo grunts as Junmin dumps his fur wrap in his arms, and he glares at the prince, although there's more worry than heat behind his gaze. As Junmin starts to strip out of the red silk, Leo murmurs, “If he find out before we know he's trustworthy...” his eyes sliding back towards the clearing where Xinlong is presumably still sitting on the swing, wary of the boy overhearing them.

“He is,” Junmin says, a mere whisper on the wind, and his outer robe ends up in Leo's arms too, the prince starting to fumble with the fastenings holding his shirt and braces in place. “I can feel it.” Then, he smirks. “Besides, what do you think is about to happen? No one's mounting anyone tonight, Leo – not everyone moves as quickly as you and Sangwon did.”

Sighing, Leo holds his hand out to receive the silk-wrapped chest brace and the shirt that follows soon after, more than used to Junmin dropping his clothes the moment he's alone to shift into his catskin. “You're as overly trusting as Yunseo,” he mutters, rolling his eyes when Junmin just smirks at him, already stripping his pants off, the fine silk billowing out around his slender legs.

“Who do you think Yunseo gets it from?” Junmin asks and Leo makes a face at him. Pointing an accusatory finger at Leo, Junmin's smile drops suddenly. “You and Sangwon have just spent the last twenty-four hours telling me how perfect Xinlong is and how much you think I'll like him; why are you getting cold feet at the idea now that I actually do?”

Leo takes the pants thrown at him with a straight face. “Junmin, you hate most people. Neither of us thought you'd be this quick to fall for those soulful eyes and deep voice. We assumed it would take at least the first month of the Trial for you to warm up to him enough to start... flirting with him like that!”

“I do not hate them,” Junmin sulks, removing his bulkier jewellery to keep it safe when he shifts, pouring his necklaces and bracelets into Leo's pocket. “I'm just... cautious.” He's on the brink of whining, Leo can tell. “I'm following my instincts for once, why are you acting like this?”

Without thinking, Leo snaps, “Because that worked so well last time!” and immediately regrets it when all of Junmin's good humour falls away and he curls in on himself slightly, wrapping his arms around his chest until he suddenly looks so small in front of Leo, pale and young and vulnerable.

“You promised you wouldn't use that against me,” Junmin whispers, and Leo scolds himself internally for letting his mouth get away from his brain.

“I didn't mean it like that,” he tries, but he can tell it's too late to save the situation tonight. Xinlong is far smarter than Leo initially gave him credit for, and will surely start getting suspicious or will assume Junmin has abandoned him if the prince takes any longer. Junmin shifts without replying to him, turning his back on Leo as black fur sweeps over his body, rendering him practically invisible in the shadow of the trees, and Leo bundles his clothes in a little tighter. “I'm sorry, Junmin, really. I shouldn't have said that, and I'm sorry I did,” he says quietly, and Junmin glances over his shoulder, ears twitching. His tail brushes Leo's legs affectionately for a moment, but Leo can tell he isn't forgiven yet. “I'll take these up to your rooms. I won't be long.”

Bobbing his head once, Junmin slinks away, silent, leaving Leo alone with an ache in his heart. “You idiot,” Leo mutters to himself, and knows he's in for the scolding of a lifetime when Sangwon hears about what he said, bringing up the one thing they'd all promised to never mention to Junmin again. Quietly, he tiptoes towards the clearing again, keeping an eye on his prince as he approaches the beautiful red-furred omega stretched out in the grass waiting for him. Leo likes Xinlong, really he does; he's the closest thing to a perfect match for Junmin who's ever come through the Keep. If Leo hadn't been told to try and push the pair together, he probably would be attempting to do it on his own.

But Leo's job is to protect the prince, in any and every conceivable way – even from himself. And Junmin is playing with fire right now, dangling royal secrets practically out in the open that Leo, the rest of the guards, and the royal family itself have been protecting for years.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Xinlong is left burning with questions. Despite his best efforts, his own natural curiosity had won out over his sense of self-preservation, and he had overheard most of the conversation between Junmin and Leo, from the friendly teasing to the rather heated exchange that Xinlong knows he really should not have heard. And now, he wants to know everything, but he wouldn't dare ask, not now and probably not ever.

What he does know, is that if Junmin ever chose to share something private with Xinlong, he would gladly lend an ear.

The first sight of Junmin in his catskin that Xinlong gets is of his eyes, a blue glow appearing between the trees. It takes his breath away, and he watches in awe as a sleek, slender black cat steps out into the clearing as if materialising straight from the darkness itself. He's smaller than Xinlong was expecting, probably no bigger than Xinlong himself, but his intense aura is palpable as he pads closer, large paws utterly silent in the grass, a true predator in the night.

When Junmin steps into a beam of moonlight, his fur shines silver, inky black rosettes thrown into sharp relief as if the prince has been lovingly painted with Xinlong's ashdye – with the Night's Kiss.

Xinlong is so awed by him that he does the only thing that feels truly right in that moment, and he bows to his prince, front paws stretched out in the grass towards Junmin, and his tail curled up over his back, head lowered, a gentle purr thrumming in his chest. With a quiet chuff, Junmin approaches him and butts his head to Xinlong's, pushing in affectionately until they're pressed together from brow to snout, nuzzled in as close as physically possible.

Stop that, he chastises, his voice just as soft in Xinlong's head as it is when he speaks out loud. You don't need to bow to me, not here. There's nothing and no one to make us follow formal procedure. And he sits down, folding his limbs under himself into a sweet little loaf, the tip of his tail tucked under his front paws.

Xinlong rumbles and lowers his haunches down too, shifting closer to rub his cheek over Junmin's, their heads notched together comfortably. I can't help being respectful, my prince, he teases, and Junmin nips at his ear in retaliation, making Xinlong laugh, his ears twitching and flickering happily as Junmin starts to nudge against his neck and shoulder, nose whiffling slightly as he breathes in Xinlong's scent. Having fun there, your highness?

You're a lot sassier when you can't use your mouth to speak, Junmin complains, gentle teeth biting down lightly on Xinlong's throat as punishment for being a little shit.

Oh, I can still use my mouth, is the only warning Xinlong gives before he starts to groom the prince's head and ears, tongue rasping over black fur as Junmin eagerly leans into the affection like a touch-starved kitten, and the sound he makes nearly breaks Xinlong's heart. It's a whining purr, high in his throat, that makes Xinlong's teeth ache sympathetically, and he doubles his efforts until he has a melted puddle of happy prince all over his front paws. You're so cute, he whispers as Junmin presses his face into Xinlong's chest, his long black tail practically vibrating from how happy he is.

Xinlong has no idea how Junmin is expected to conduct himself as the prince of the kingdom, especially now that the king has been forced to pull back from the majority of his duties and the queen is caught up looking after his dying mate. He doesn't know how the kitten of a royal lineage is raised, or for how long Junmin was even allowed to be a kitten before he had to start being a prince – especially after the death of his sister. What he is sure of, however, is that it has clearly been a very long time since Junmin has had someone cuddle with him like this, where Junmin is the one being given attention instead of him giving it to someone else – most likely only ever Yunseo – and the prince is lapping it up like a man possessed.

As Xinlong tips down onto his side, lifting a paw up in invitation for Junmin to come closer, Junmin wriggles into his space the same way Yunseo did just yesterday. He's too big to curl up on Xinlong's belly like a kitten, but that doesn't stop him from trying, nuzzling his head into Xinlong's chest and bringing his big paws up to knead through wine-dark fur so gently, making them both comfortable as they settle into the grass together. Xinlong wraps his own paws around Junmin, curling in so he can keep rasping his tongue over the prince's ears and face, their scents truly starting to blend.

You smell like Yunseo, Junmin muses once he's fallen limp and still, basking in the warmth of another body, coiled up in a loose ball in the safe confines of Xinlong's paws, his spine a long line of heat against Xinlong's chest and belly.

Does it bother you? Xinlong asks, curling in more securely around Junmin, their tails slowly entwining. He feels... protective, lying like this, with Junmin in his hold instead of the prince holding him, the way Xinlong always assumed an alpha would prefer. Junmin seems even smaller now, curled up and at peace, content to let Xinlong take care of him for just a moment, and Xinlong finds he rather likes it.

Face nudging under Xinlong's chin, chasing the fleeting scent of the kitten still clinging to Xinlong's fur, the omega's own scent bleeding out stronger in his catskin, Junmin says, Not at all. It makes you smell... And he trails off, clear hesitance in his words.

Like what? Xinlong asks, dipping his head to press their noses together, staring into those piercing blue eyes without fear.

Like home, is Junmin's confession, and Xinlong's breath catches in his throat.

The apple grove is ripe with the scent of sweet roses and fresh wood, and Xinlong realises that, yes, this is what home smells like – not his home out on the plains, but the new home he thinks he could make with Junmin if this all works out the way everyone seems to want it to. A satisfied purr starts up deep in his chest, vibrating against Junmin's back until the prince is echoing it with a content purr of his own. In their catskins, shifters are far more open and tactile, animal nature superseding human propriety. It is believed that the true self is revealed when one is in one’s catskin, free from the over-thinking shackles of the human mind. When Junmin shyly starts to return Xinlong's careful grooming, tongue dragging through the silky fur under Xinlong's jaw and around his nos and whiskers, Xinlong couldn't agree more.

He still has questions, the conversation he'd overheard coming back to him unbidden as he wonders what secret it is that Leo doesn't want him to find out – yet, at least. More than that, he still has doubts. Xinlong doubts his place in the Keep amongst the other clan representatives who have already shown that they do not know his kind nor do they want to know his kind; he doubts his standing with the royal guards, who seem to regard him with either cool indifference or with what feels like misplaced hope; he even doubts the faith that Sangwon and Leo seem to have put in him, not at all helped by Leo's apparent hesitance on the matter in the face of the prince's out of character behaviour.

What he doesn't doubt, however, is his own instincts. The feelings he has right now. This... this warmth, blooming in his chest as quiet conversation flows between he and Junmin like the slow, confident trickle of water in a stream, naturally ebbing and flowing until even words cease and they are simply breathing the same air. Overhead, the moon rides high in the sky, and Xinlong knows that it has been well over an hour since the prince first stepped out from between the trees – whatever his new misgivings are, Leo is letting them have time, proper time, to get to know each other.

Time that the Mate Trial usually doesn't allow so early on.

ᓚᘏᗢ

The pink blush of dawn has just started to lighten the sky when Sangwon sets out into the third tier of the Keep, emerging from one of the many hidden entrances in the mountain with two warm robes folded over his arm. Silently, as if wary of disturbing nature itself, he winds his way through the trees towards a very familiar spot, where a very familiar person is standing, as still and quiet as the waning night above them.

“You can't watch over them all night, my love,” Sangwon murmurs, stepping up beside Leo and wrapping an arm around his waist, leaning into his mate's side. “Even you need to sleep occasionally, and the bed is cold without you.”

Leo says nothing for a moment, lifting an arm to circle Sangwon's shoulders and pull him in closer, as he bends his head to lay a kiss on his mate's brow, eyes never once leaving the clearing just beyond the trees. “Someone has to,” he replies eventually. “Why wake someone when I was already here?”

Pursing his lips, Sangwon peers into the clearing, where the two shifted figures of Junmin and Xinlong are curled up so tightly together in the grass it's as if they're attempting to merge into one being in their sleep. “How long have they been like that?” he asks, an amused smile on his lips at the sweet sight.

“How long have they been like what?” Leo mutters, other arm coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Shifted? Hours. Asleep? Far too long. Together? Since Xinlong's timeslot started at dinner time.” He shakes his head. “He's playing with fire.”

Sangwon knows he's talking about Junmin. “That's what we're for, darling,” he says. “To stop him from getting burned. But we can't protect him from everything; he's a grown man. If he wants to make his own decisions, he's allowed to do that.” He slides his eyes up over Leo's face, catalogues the tight pinch of his brows and the agitated tick in his cheek. “What's wrong?” he asks, voice a little sharper. “Your poker face is terrible. What happened?”

For a moment, Leo almost looks like he's not going to reply, but then he relents, a note of relief entering his smoky scent. “I said something I shouldn't have,” he admits sheepishly. “Now Junmin is mad at me and I'm afraid he's going to do something rash just to spite me.”

Narrowing his eyes at his alpha, Sangwon asks, “What did you say?” and when Leo turns his head away, bottom lip caught between his teeth, he asks again, “Leo, what did you say to him?” When Leo still doesn't answer, Sangwon pinches him on the hip, scent spiking in warning. “I can't fix it if you don't tell me,” he growls.

“...I may have implied that Junmin can't trust his instincts because of... you know. What happened with Donggyu.”

“Oh, Leo!” Sangwon hisses in disgust, stepping out of his arms in shock and putting his hands on his hips, glaring through his bangs. “You can't say things like that to him, you insensitive idiot! Stars, it would serve you right if he did do something rash just to spite you, how could you bring that up?” He reaches out and smacks the alpha's arm for good measure, miming doing it a second time when Leo starts to whine at him.

“I didn't mean to!” Leo insists, grabbing Sangwon's hand and holding it to his chest, if only to save himself from another smack. The warm touch mollifies Sangwon slightly though, and the omega allows himself to be reeled back in close. “I just lost it for a moment. I really wasn't expecting him to be so...” he trails off, gesturing vaguely with his free hand. “Receptive?”

Sangwon sighs, and it's his turn to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Not everyone is as emotionally stunted as you, my love,” he says, affection and love dripping off every word. “Junmin is introverted, not antisocial. He's been craving companionship – true companionship, that isn't someone paid to be around him or someone under his care – ever since he came back from the Living Sea. Of course he's going to jump in feet first the moment he's presented with someone who he clicks with.”

“You're right,” Leo groans, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Sangwon's collarbone, humming appreciatively when Sangwon starts to knead at the back of his neck where the muscles are stiff and tense from standing so still and upright for hours on end.

“Yes, I usually am,” Sangwon muses, nails scratching through Leo's soft pewter hair. “And I'm right about this, too, about them.” He smiles, rests his chin on the top of Leo's head as the alpha hunches over to huddle against him better, nose buried in Sangwon's throat. “You were right about them. You can sense it, just like I can, just like the boss can. They're going to be perfect for each other; they're well on their way there already and it's only been two days.” The sigh he lets out is deep and profound. “We just have to keep easing them into it, control the pace, make sure everything happens when it needs to and not before. I believe that Xinlong is trustworthy, but he can't find out too soon.”

Leo nods against him, body starting to sag and relax now that he's dropped out of guard stance. He's so tired. With a deep breath, he says, “We need to wake them up. They can't stay out here much longer.”

“That's why I came down,” Sangwon says, lifting his arm to show the robes he's still carrying. “We can hide that Junmin is missing from his bed in the morning, but covering up for Xinlong will be impossible with where they've placed him in the Pavilion. Some of the other representatives have already noticed he never returned after dinner; they'll definitely notice if he's not there in the morning.”

Waking up a pair of sleeping shifters is easier said than done, especially when they're as deeply and peacefully asleep as Junmin and Xinlong seem to be. Sangwon nudges Junmin carefully with his foot, toes pressing in just above the prince's tail, poised on one bent leg to spring back if Junmin kicks out at him with claws unsheathed, as he is wont to do some mornings. It takes a few tries and some gentle cooing, but eventually Junmin stirs, yawning wide enough that his wickedly sharp fangs and their golden filigree flash in the faint morning light. Blue eyes blink open and glare at Sangwon, who holds both hands up, placating.

“You need to get up,” he says, going for urgent but calm. “You and Xinlong both, you can't stay out here all night. The queen's guard start their patrol soon.”

Junmin stares at him blankly for a moment before his eyes turn up to the sky, widening when the prince realises just how late it is, or how early – just how long he's been out for. He chuffs quietly, turning his head and butting at Xinlong's chest with a tenderness that makes Sangwon's lips quirk up at the corners, and Xinlong wakes with a sleepy yowl. The pair separate, slow and reluctant, climbing onto their paws while staying as close as they can, stretching and rubbing against each other, exchanging lazy purrs and the occasional cursory lick or nip of an ear or side. They're incredibly sweet together, and Sangwon can already see the budding bond between them, a bond that will hopefully only grow stronger over the course of the Trial.

“I'll walk you back to your room, Xinlong,” Leo says before Sangwon has the chance to speak, and the alpha carefully starts to herd Xinlong a few feet away, taking one of the robes in Sangwon's arms as he does. “I know you probably prefer sleeping in your catskin, but you'll need to be shifted to check out of this tier, so we've brought you something easier to get into than your original outfit.”

Suddenly reminded of the beautiful black silk robe, Sangwon's eyes widen and he glances around frantically for it, worried that Junmin's favourite outfit has been ruined – only to find all of Xinlong's clothes carefully draped over the swing seat, the pearl necklace resting on top. What a considerate boy; Sangwon grows more endeared to him by the moment. With plans to collect the outfit before he leaves, Sangwon holds up the warm robe in his arms and hangs it in front of Junmin, giving him some semblance of privacy to shift behind, Leo mimicking the same move to Xinlong on the other side of the clearing.

Both are still half-asleep, and Sangwon is willing to risk it if it means getting them off to bed before the queen's guard catches them here, where they are not supposed to be.

“I didn't realise it had gotten so late,” Junmin says once he's in human form again, gratefully accepting the robe being wrapped around him as the cool night air kisses his naked skin, making him shiver. The robe is long, almost brushing the ground, made of thick, downy rabbit fur, with a soft silk lining. Junmin murmurs out a sleepy, “Thank you,” as Sangwon lashes the belt around his waist, folding the heavy collar over his chest and tying him snuggly inside, his hands disappearing into the sleeves as he tucks his nose into the fur-trimmed neck.

His blue eyes are tracking something over Sangwon's shoulder, and when he turns his head, he sees a flash of sun-bronzed skin as Xinlong rises up from his catskin in front of Leo, just as naked but clearly not as affected by the cold as Junmin is. He accepts the robe from Leo but doesn't bother tying it, just holding the front closed with his hands, clearly planning on shifting again as soon as he's allowed to.

“You should say goodnight to him,” Sangwon whispers in Junmin's ear, giving the robe a quick once-over to make sure the prince is covered properly. “You won't be able to see him at all for the next two days, at least.”

Junmin winces at the thought of the rest of the Trial meetings. “You sure I can't just call the whole thing off now?” he jokes, and Sangwon rolls his eyes, grinning fondly.

“Sorry, Junmin, that's out of my hands.”

“Drat.”

Sangwon gives him a small nudge. “Go on, don't get shy on him now. I saw the way you two were curled up together.”

Squaring his shoulders with a tiny nod, Junmin steps neatly around Sangwon and crosses the little grove, completely ignoring Leo as he looks straight at Xinlong. Sangwon makes a face – Junmin probably isn't angry with Leo for what he said anymore, but the prince is going to take quite a while to forgive him. Another reason to have Leo escort Xinlong back, instead of accompanying Junmin too his rooms.

“I've been dreading the Trial,” Junmin says quietly, extending an arm enough to hook his littlest finger with Xinlong's where his free hand is peeking out through the loose gap in the robe. “I'm not very good with people, and I certainly know my reputation out in the clans doesn't help that. But this is the best time I've had tonight. The best time I've had for quite a while, actually, and I enjoyed spending it with you, Xinlong. Thank you for letting me just... breathe, and be.”

And he lifts his other hand to catch Xinlong's sharp jaw in his fingers, leaving a fleeting kiss on the corner of the boy's mouth.

Xinlong flushes so red so quickly he almost starts glowing in the dark, and just when Sangwon thinks he's going to duck his head and break Junmin's hold, he surprises every single person in the clearing – including himself – by turning his head and turning Junmin’s brush of lips into a real kiss, chaste as it may be.

The sound Junmin makes is priceless, also starting to blush furiously as he returns the kiss, and Sangwon catches Leo's wide eyes, the two exchanging raised eyebrows and shocked looks. Leo starts gesturing at them with flailing hands, silently asking if he should stop them, but they break apart naturally before he has to do anything about it, Junmin's hand covering his own mouth and Xinlong resolutely looking anywhere except at the prince.

“Goodnight, Prince Junmin,” Xinlong manages to blurt out, deep voice unnaturally high as he stumbles into Leo's side, lifting his own hand to his face to cover up the giddy grin fighting its way onto his expression.

Junmin nods his head, staying stock still as Leo starts to lead Xinlong away. Finally, he says, “Goodnight, Xinlong!” in a rush, taking an awkward step forward, the guard and the red-headed omega already disappearing through the trees. “Thank you. Thank you, so much.”

“You too,” Xinlong’s voice floats back to the clearing, and then he's gone from sight.

Sangwon creeps up behind Junmin, peering around the prince to see the wonderstruck expression on his face, fingers still lingering on his lips, and Sangwon smirks. “You're adorable,” he tells Junmin, who responds by swatting him in the back of the head lightly.

“Don't even start,” the prince grouses, eyes still fixed on the spot where Xinlong had disappeared. “This is all your fault.”

“It really isn't,” Sangwon argues, laughing as he takes Junmin's hand and tugs him in the opposite direction. “I'm just doing as I'm told.”

They bicker quietly as they steal back into the Keep, going through the same secret entrance Sangwon had come from and scaling the narrow stairs carved straight into the rock up the spiral tower that the servants use to get from tier to tier quickly without being seen. The royal family live right at the top, in tier seven, and Junmin is yawning and lagging with exhaustion by the time Sangwon is pushing open the heavy door, turning them out into the middle of a hallway from behind an ancient tapestry.

“Come on, I've had your bed warmed for you, let's get you bathed and asleep before morning breaks so you can at least have a few hours before your first meeting,” Sangwon says briskly, starting to usher Junmin along as the prince's steps grow slow and languid. They pass the large public rooms in the royal tier and turn onto a darker corridor where the family's private quarters are. “Not long now.”

Just when Sangwon thinks they've gotten away with it without anyone discovering that the prince had been effectively cavorting around in the garden with one of the Trial candidates well after curfew, the ajar door to Junmin's room coming into view, his hopes are dashed with the single creak of a hinge. The last door at the end of the corridor crashes open, a shadowed figure emerging into the corridor, half shifted and staggering.

“Father?” Junmin whispers, eyes wide in shock as the king collapses onto all fours, his claws scraping the stone floor with a loud shriek. The king lets out a low, gurgling growl, and Junmin sucks in a sharp breath. “Father!”

“Stay back,” Sangwon says, stepping in front of Junmin bravely, suddenly wishing that Leo had been the one to walk Junmin back. If the king is having one of his episodes, Sangwon isn't going to be able to do much to keep the prince safe from him. “Stay back...”

The king's body convulses, his midnight fur rippling, golden skin flashing underneath as the shift refuses to take hold, and when he tilts his head back with a pained yowl, blood trickles down the column of his throat from his half-formed fangs. Junmin whimpers in panic, putting a hand on Sangwon's arm as if to move him out of the way to get to his father, but Sangwon holds firm, not letting Junmin get past him. The king's claws are wickedly sharp, and he has attacked many guards in the past few months as they tried to help him through his episodes. Sangwon will not risk Junmin ending up the same way. “Sangwon, let me go to him,” Junmin pleads, tugging at Sangwon's sleeve, but Sangwon shakes his head, trembling lightly when the king's head snaps towards them at the sound of Junmin's panicked voice.

Golden eyes glow bright and manic in the half-dark, only the waning moonlight from the window behind Sangwon and Junmin filling the corridor. The king is practically unrecognisable like this, more monster than he is man or animal, pupils receded to paper thin slits as he seems to stare right through them in his feverish haze. He growls again, mouth struggling to form shapes around his fangs that will neither extend fully nor return to their human shape, but what he says is still perfectly clear.

“Min...jae...” the king rasps, clawing his way along the floor, every move seeming to take more and more effort as this faint bout of strength starts to fail him. “Minjae, my Minjae—”

Junmin's hand shakes on Sangwon's arm, his breath hitching quietly, and Sangwon closes his eyes against the onslaught of pain that is palpable in the air – from king and prince both.

“Sangwon, get Junmin out of here!” a voice suddenly barks, and Sangwon's eyes snap open to see the queen striding up the corridor from the same door, his sleeping robe billowing out behind him as he drops to his knees beside his mate, his snow white hair gleaming in the last of the moonlight. Fearless of his alpha's uncontrollable half-shift, the queen starts helping the man to his feet, an arm slung over his shoulders, heedless of the blood dripping onto the delicate fabric of his sleeves. He glances up at Sangwon, piercing blue eyes electric in the night. “Sangwon, go.”

“Wait, mother, let me—” Junmin tries to protest, but the queen cuts him off with a sharp shake of his head.

“Not tonight, my darling,” he says quietly. “Let me handle this.” He jerks his head at Sangwon, pointing his chin at the door to Junmin's room. “Now, Sangwon.”

Sangwon turns slightly, taking Junmin's hand and giving him a pull. “Come, do as he says.” He thinks Junmin is going to protest, is going to demand to be allowed to stay by his father’s side to help, but Junmin does as his mother asks for once and meekly follows after Sangwon with his teary eyes fixed on his father's convulsing form.

As they pass the king and queen, the king lurches towards them, and it's only the queen and Sangwon's quick reactions keeping him from lunging straight at Junmin as the queen hauls him backwards and Sangwon pushes Junmin through his bedroom door, slamming it shut behind them. Junmin collapses to his knees with a faint sob, his hands covering his entire face, and he shakes every time he hears his father desperately calling, “Bring her back! Bring my Minjae back! Minjae!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Sangwon breathes, kneeling next to Junmin and wrapping him up in a tight hug. “Oh, you poor thing, and you were having such a good night, too.”

“He's never going to get better, is he?” Junmin cries into Sangwon's chest, clutching at his attendant – at his friend – like his life depends on it. “He's going to get worse and worse until he doesn't remember me at all, and then he's going to die and leave me all alone to keep this kingdom on my own!”

Sangwon tries to shush him, hauling Junmin in close and holding him tightly. “You're never going to be alone, Junmin. I promise, I promise. We're never going to leave you.” He cards his fingers through Junmin's hair and pulls his head back enough that Sangwon can rest their foreheads together. “Your father loves you, and he will still love you even when he can't remember you anymore.”

A pitiful whine escapes Junmin's lips, but he is already calming down, the noise outside his room quieting down as the queen presumably manages to walk the king back into their chambers where the royal healers will tend to him for the rest of the night. “I'm so selfish,” Junmin mumbles, pulling out of Sangwon's arms and sitting down with his knees pressed to his chest, a deep frown marring his beautiful face. “How can I possibly even think of bringing someone else into this? Someone like Xinlong doesn't deserve a life like that. I shouldn't have even entertained the idea that I could mate for love through this Trial – I should pick the best political match and call it a day.”

“Hey, stop that,” Sangwon snaps, a little harsher than he meant to as he grabs Junmin's face in both hands and forces the prince to look at him. “I swear to the heavens that if you sabotage your own chance at future happiness and love by being a fucking political martyr – again – I will never forgive you.”

Junmin sniffles wetly. “You just said you'd never leave me.”

Sangwon purses his lips at him. “The two are not mutually exclusive,” he threatens. Then, he flicks Junmin on the forehead. “Don't let yourself fall into that well of negativity, your highness. Here there be monsters. You'll serve nothing and no one any good by thinking like that, especially not yourself and least of all Xinlong.” Sangwon smiles at Junmin, squishing his cheeks lightly. “That boy is falling harder for you than I think even he realises. Don't throw him away because you think it would be better for him just because you're afraid.”

“But I am,” Junmin confesses. “I am afraid. I'm so afraid, Sangwon. What if he wants me, but not everything that comes with me?”

Shaking his head, Sangwon squishes his cheeks a little harder. “Xinlong knows full well what wining the Mate Trial entails, the invitation was extremely detailed given the circumstances.”

“Not that,” Junmin mutters, and gestures a hand down the length of his body. “I meant this.” Then he waves the same hand at the other door in his room, the one Yunseo is sleeping peacefully behind. “All of it.”

That makes Sangwon pause for a moment, thinking. Then he says, “Junmin, if he can't accept all of that, then I will personally send him fleeing back to the plains with his tail between his legs. But I don't think you have anything to worry about there; he's already completely enamoured by Yunseo, and the feeling is mutual.” He releases Junmin's face and brushes away the last of his tears. “I know that's why you even agreed to this in the first place.”

“Anyone who loves Yunseo is automatically better than everyone else,” Junmin says succinctly.

Sangwon smiles. “That's right. Now, I think we've had enough tears and drama for one night. Let's get you in bed so that I can go to bed. And since you've been monopolising my mate all night, I think you can do it without complaint for once.”

ᓚᘏᗢ

The silence between Xinlong and Leo as they walk back through the maze-like third tier towards the gate is awkward and tense, or at least Xinlong feels like it's awkward and tense. Leo remains suspiciously silent as Xinlong does his best not to trip over anything in the overly large robe, the alpha striding on ahead of him, and plays the last few minutes back in his head over and over and over.

Junmin kissed him. No, Xinlong kissed Junmin. On purpose. He'd let the impulsive want to taste the beauty mark on Junmin's lip win, and it had been perfect.

“Was that your first kiss?” Leo suddenly asks, breaking the silence and taking Xinlong by surprise. He'd thought Leo was angry at him, but when he looks up, the alpha is watching him from over his shoulder with a small grin on his face, eyes warm. “You seem a little preoccupied by it.”

Xinlong nods, trotting forwards a bit to fall into step beside Leo. “I wasn't planning on doing anything like that tonight, but it just felt...”

“Natural?” Leo offers. “Sometimes, it just feels right. The perfect moment.” There's a brief faraway look in his eyes, and Xinlong wonders if he's reminiscing on his first kiss with Sangwon. The alpha sighs suddenly, and puts a hand to the back of his neck, gaze wandering off into the distance. “How much of my conversation with Junmin did you overhear?” he asks, catching Xinlong off guard. Before Xinlong can (badly) pretend to not know what Leo is talking about, he adds, “You don't need to pretend you didn't. I'm not stupid and neither are you – you were already shifted, and neither of us were exactly trying to keep our voices down.”

Xinlong winces, making a face at Leo. “I heard all of it,” he admits, “although, I didn't understand any of it, so if you're worried I'm going to spread something secret to the rest of the representatives, don't be.”

“That’s not what I'm worried about,” Leo says. “I'm worried about Junmin. About the questions you might ask him because of me and my big mouth.”

“I wasn't going to ask him anything,” Xinlong tells him honestly. “I knew I shouldn't have been listening. Whatever I heard wasn't mine to hear, and it's not mine to ask after. If Junmin ever wants to tell me anything, I won't stop him, but I also won't be the one who makes him talk. About anything.”

Leo actually stops walking for a moment, staring at Xinlong with wide eyes. “You really mean that, don't you?” he marvels, and Xinlong nods, resolute. “Huh. Fancy that. Sangwon really was right.”

“That sounds like something you shouldn't be doubting,” Xinlong jokes, which makes Leo laugh quietly, and Xinlong smiles privately to himself, glad that whatever misgivings Leo started having about him earlier seem to have been put to rest before anything could come of them. “And for what it's worth, Leo, I would never do anything to hurt Junmin, or Yunseo. Not on purpose.”

“I know,” Leo says. “I'm just overly protective. It's my job as the prince's first guard, and my privilege as Junmin's friend.”

Xinlong thinks it's an incredibly sweet sentiment, and curls his hand into the robe a little tighter, feeling a strange mix of admiration and jealousy – admiration that everyone around the prince seems to love him so much to be so devoted to his care and happiness, and jealousy that Xinlong himself has been denied the chance to form such strong friendships in his life purely because of where he was born and the hard, outside forces affecting his clan.

The gate comes into view and Leo opens it from the inside to let Xinlong out, calling to the guard on the other side. “Checking out from the Trial meetings, Gyehyeon.”

Xinlong smiles awkwardly at the guard from breakfast, who returns it with a much easier expression, yellow eyes gleaming in the early morning light. He hadn't been able to tell earlier in the day, but Gyehyeon is an omega too, scent understated and subtle like toasted bread and cream, and Xinlong marvels once again, thrilled, that omegas are allowed to hold such positions in the Keep. He wonders how some of the traditionalists who live out further in the forests would react if they knew.

“Did you have a pleasant night, Xinlong?” Gyehyeon asks lightly, his eyes glinting with amusement from under the soft swoop of his dark hair. He pulls up an inkpot on his belt chain the same way Junseo had, another one of Xinlong's pieces, and offers it to him. “Stamp your thumb again to show you're leaving.”

Doing as he's told, dipping his black thumb into the black ink and pressing his mark onto the parchment by his one from the start of the night, Xinlong says, “I had a wonderful night, actually.” He can't quite keep the smile off his face or the blush off his cheeks, and Gyehyeon coos at him, miming something at Leo that Xinlong assumes means he wants all the details later when they can gossip freely away from prying ears.

“When you go back to the guard house after shift, can you update Xinlong's access privileges?” Leo asks Gyehyeon as the omega guard is putting his inkpot away. “He no longer needs guard accompaniment from tier four down; and he is permitted guarded access to the remaining three tiers.”

Gyehyeon's eyes widen slightly, something meaningful flashing through his expression before he says, “Understood. I'll have that noted before morning rotation and have the necessary passes sent up to the Pavilion.”

With that, Leo starts herding Xinlong on again, muttering about needing to be horizontal as soon as possible or he's going to keel over. Xinlong only feels slightly guilty that he's partially at fault for keeping Leo up so late – who is Xinlong to deny his kind, beautiful prince anything he wants? Especially when Xinlong wanted it too. He lets himself be led down the path towards Rose Pavilion, and says, “Now I feel like I'm being given special treatment,” with a light lilt in his voice to show he's not being completely serious.

Leo pats his shoulder. “It's the traditional reward granted to those who pass the first round of the Trial, so it won't just be you who gets such high access privileges, don't worry.” He smirks. “You're just the first one from today. By the end of the meetings, everyone will have free access to the third tier and won't require guard accompaniment, but the rest has to be earned by winning the prince's affection.”

“So, he does like me, then?” Xinlong asks, and doesn't mean to sound quite so breathless when he does.

“About as much as you like him, I'd reckon,” is Leo's reply, and Xinlong ducks his head down into the collar of the robe to hide how pleased he looks. “Alright, we're nearly back to the Pavilion. You can shift before we get there if you want me to take the robe, or hang onto it until you get back to your room. Sangwon took the rest of the clothes you were wearing earlier, so you don't need to worry about them.”

Xinlong buries his nose in the downy fur lining the robe and breathes in deep, smiling to himself as the scent of blooming roses lifts from the well-loved robe that clearly belongs to Junmin. “I think I'll hang onto it,” he says, to which Leo replies,

“Yes, I'm sure you will,” with a knowing look.

They part ways at the entrance to Rose Pavilion, Leo turning to head back up the Keep instead of down towards the guardhouse – considering he is both the prince's first guard and mated to the prince's personal attendant, Xinlong guesses he and Sangwon have rooms somewhere in a higher tier to keep them close to their charge. “Feel free to explore once Gyehyeon brings you your clearances,” is the last thing Leo says. “You won't get to see Junmin much, what with the rest of the meetings coming up, but you never know what... little bundles of joy might be lurking around in the fourth tier flower beds.”

It's pointed and Xinlong receives the message loud and clear: he's being given direct permission to seek Yunseo out and spend time with the kitten if he wants to. “I'll be sure to do that,” he says, and Leo beams at him, finally giving him one last wave before heading home to his omega and his bed.

Xinlong casts a look up at the sky, the dark of night now very much replaced with the morning's early light, only the brightest stars still clinging to the heavens, and he lets out a breath, long and steady. It's certainly been one hell of a night, and he knows that this is just the beginning. He is standing on the precipice of his entire life being turned on its head; he just has to decide how badly he wants it, and how much he's willing to fight for it, considering he had no plans of doing either when he first arrived.

As he turns in for the night, steeling quietly through the Pavilion to his lonely room at the end of the last corridor, Xinlong fails to notice the pair of eyes watching him shrewdly from the darkened nesting room.

ᓚᘏᗢ

A door creaks open, pinkish-gold light from a blown glass night lamp spilling into the room beyond, tiny hands curled tightly around the edge of the door. “Mama?” Yunseo breathes, and Sangwon freezes halfway out the other door, turning on his heel to see the little kitten staring around with frightened eyes.

“Hey, hey, why are you out of bed, fluff ball?” he whispers, slipping back across the room to scoop Yunseo into his arms and carry him back to his own bed, re-angling the glass butterfly lamp slightly so the coloured lights dance on the walls. “Did the loud noises wake you up, sweetheart?” Yunseo nods, golden eyes tired and watery as he rubs at them with his chubby fists. “I'm so sorry, Yunseo. No one meant to frighten you. Go back to sleep now, okay? It's all over now.”

“Where's mama?” Yunseo whines, even as he allows himself to be lowered back into his bed, curling up around the large teddy bear he's had since he was born.

Sangwon pulls the woollen blanket up over his small shoulders and tucks him in again, exactly the same way Leo had earlier in the night. “He's asleep now, but he'll be there when you wake up in the morning, don't you worry, and then you can go and play in the gardens. Xinlong might even come and visit you, how does that sound?”

Nodding, his eyes already starting to droop again, Yunseo says, “I really like Xinlong. I hope he decides to stay.” Then he says, “I hope mama is okay. I just wanted to give him a hug. I don't like it when grandpa yells at him,” and then he's asleep, breaths evening out and his hands relaxing his grip on his bear slightly.

“Neither do I, kiddo,” Sangwon mutters, smoothing the boy's hair off his face and then leaving the small chamber, closing the door again. “Neither do I.”

Chapter Text

“I hear you've been having an affair with my husband,” is how Sangwon wakes Xinlong in the morning, saving him from the gong by a few scant moments as the attendant hovers by Xinlong's bed.

Xinlong blinks tired eyes open and stares at Sangwon like he's gone insane, ears pressed out flat to show his displeasure at being woken at all. When Sangwon just continues to smile blithely at him, rocking on the balls of his feet with a pile of black clothes in his arms, Xinlong groans in protest but starts shifting forms under his mountain of thick blankets and the rabbit fur robe, pulling them all up around his human shoulders to keep the warmth in. “What are you talking about?” he asks sleepily, not awake enough yet for jokes.

“Keep gossip, darling,” Sangwon replies, still grinning, obviously quite entertained by the entire thing. “Someone saw you coming back last night, several hours after curfew and wearing nothing but a little robe, accompanied by a very handsome alpha guard.” He winks, as if sharing something truly scandalous. “I'm sure you can imagine the field day that the loose lips are having with that spectacle.”

Groaning, louder and more put-on, Xinlong flops down on his face dramatically. “I’m so sorry,” he whines, turning his face just enough to peer up at Sangwon with one imploring green eye. “You know I'm not having an affair with your husband, right?”

“Xinlong, if you had managed to get Leo to mount your cute ass in the ten minutes from when you kissed the prince to when you crawled into bed last night, I'd be more impressed than upset,” Sangwon says, and then bursts into a fit of laughter at the horrified look on Xinlong's face, the younger omega actually picking his head up off the pillow so Sangwon can see his entire expression. “Oh my stars, you are so adorable; I'm kidding, I'm kidding. I know you only have eyes for Junmin, you unsubtle little thing.” Then, his eyes and smile turn sharp and deadly. “Besides, Leo isn't stupid enough to play around like that. He values his life too much.”

Squinting at him, Xinlong says, “Has anyone ever told you that you're kind of terrifying?”

“Oh, plenty of times,” Sangwon says, going back to being bubbly like nothing had happened and flapping a hand dismissively. “It's part of my charm.”

“Friendliest face in the Keep, my ass,” Xinlong mutters and finally pulls himself upright, sitting cross-legged on his bed in a puddle of blankets, keeping the robe pulled over himself, even though the scent of roses lingering in the fabric has largely been overrun by his own woody scent. He sighs deeply, the weight of the world on his shoulders, and asks, “What fresh hell awaits me at breakfast today?”

Sangwon grins. “That's the spirit!” he says jovially, and dumps the pile of clothes in his arms onto Xinlong's bed. “Here, these are for you.” And then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of parchment. “This is also for you, but you're only allowed to read it if you get out of bed and get dressed without whining the entire time. I've already had to deal with Junmin being a nuisance this morning, but unlike when the prince is a royal pain in my ass, I'm not being paid to deal with that from you.”

The letter smells so strongly of roses that it reaches Xinlong where he's sitting a few feet away, and he immediately gets out of bed, standing still with his arms raised obediently. “I can behave, I'm always behaving,” he says, twitching his fingers. “Please?”

“Adorable,” Sangwon repeats, and passes the letter over. “Read that while I sort out all these new clothes for you.” And then he starts riffling through the mound of black fabric, muttering to himself about finicky princes making his life harder than necessary.

Unfolding the parchment with his overly eagre heart thumping against his ribs, Xinlong is met with several cramped lines of endearingly scratchy handwriting in ashdye ink, signed and sealed at the bottom with a golden thumbprint overdrawn with a silly little cat face.

I hope it's not too forward to say that I dreamed about you last night... and that I hope, perhaps, you dreamed about me too? Yesterday was a difficult day for me, and I won't lie when I say that I nearly turned in early after one-too-many poor meetings for one person to deal with. But I had it on good authority that you would be worth the effort.

Xinlong, you were more than worth the effort.

Even if we had done nothing but sit in silence for an hour, you would have been worth the effort. Even if you only wanted to be my friend and nothing more, you would have been worth the effort. The kindness you have shown Yunseo is already more than I ever could have asked from someone. Knowing that, whatever these feelings are that I have for you, are returned, means that it was not effort wasted.

If it was in my power – which I have on even better authority that it is, unfortunately, not – I would call for the end of the Trial now. I don't need to meet the rest of the candidates to know I've found the one person I would be willing to fight for. I'm not asking you anything, not yet, but I am promising that the rest of the Trial means nothing to me. I trust my instincts, even if others around me don't.

It's only you, Xinlong.

When these meetings are over, the second stage of the Trial begins. No matter what anyone says – to you, or in general – remember that it's all just a formality, a tradition that has to be followed. I'll see you again as soon as I am free; sooner, if I could. I hope you think of me as much as I know I'll be thinking of you, and if you aren't... just remember that I owe you a kiss.

Yours, Junmin

PS – Yunseo likes the sweetcakes they make in the kitchen, but don't let him have too many of them or Sangwon will scold us both for ruining his dinner!

Xinlong knows he must be grinning like a loon by the time he's finished reading Junmin's letter several times over, but he can't help it. His heart is beating wildly and the blush on his face is so strong he's getting a head rush from it as he presses the top of the parchment to his lips. He did dream about Junmin last night, something intimate and tender and full of hope for things to come. I owe you a kiss. Xinlong only just manages to keep his excited squeal to himself.

“Do I even want to know what he wrote to make you that happy?” Sangwon asks, now half buried in the wardrobe as he hangs up the new clothes and removes some of the things already there to return to their owners now that they've been replaced. “You're pheromone projecting.”

Indeed, Xinlong's room is now brimming with the scent of fresh trees and sunshine, something rich and earthy in the undertone that makes heat curl in Xinlong's gut at the scent of his own arousal. “You didn't read it?” he asks curiously, trying to get his scent under control before he has to leave his room.

“Of course not,” Sangwon replies instantly. “It's not my business. I'm his attendant, not his jailor. If he wants to write you terrible poetry or bad pickup lines, that's on him.”

Xinlong snorts. “It's not either of those,” he murmurs, and folds the letter up again, shuffling over to his bag and tucking it away safely in one of the internal pouches. “Alright, I'm ready to face the day now,” is his announcement as he stands upright. “What's with all the new clothes? Don't I have enough already?”

“These come straight from Junmin,” Sangwon explains, holding up the black robe Xinlong had worn the night before and then returning it to the wardrobe, and then pulling a few other things out by the hem so Xinlong can see them. “He said he liked seeing you in his clothes.” There's a selection of similar robes and tunics, several short shirts, pants, at least one gown that looks more fitting for a dance than anything else, and the one thing every piece has in common is the colour. “He said something about it being your right to wear the Night's Kiss,” Sangwon comments gently, his eyes lingering on Xinlong's fingers. “So he gave me all his favourite pieces dyed with it.”

Staring, floored, Xinlong can't believe the prince owns so many clothes baring his dye, his mark. “Why is he so fond of my dye?” he asks aloud, staring at the tunic now in Sangwon's hands.

“Xinlong, I'm starting to think you don't quite understand how important Night's Kiss is here in the Keep,” Sangwon says delicately, and holds the long-sleeved tunic up so that it hangs straight, the rich woollen knit looking ethereal and otherworldly from the depth of the colour, truly black as night. Sangwon closes the distance and helps Xinlong into it, the fabric clinging to every contour of his body like a second skin until the hem hits his mid-thigh, the low curve of the neckline leaving his collarbones, the top of his chest, and most of his shoulders exposed. The sleeves are long, only his fingers left visible once they're rolled all the way down, and they blend so seamlessly into the fabric thanks to the dye stain on his skin it's as if he's wearing long, elegant evening gloves.

When Sangwon slips a few simple gold rings onto his fingers, all different sizes that sit at different knuckles, they look like stars glittering against the dark sea of night.

“The ashdye is important?” Xinlong asks, running his hands down the length of the tunic, luxuriating in the felt-soft feel of the wool and trying desperately to keep his thoughts under control as his traitorous mind summons images of the prince wearing it, pale skin and slender figure wrapped up in the skin tight kiss of Xinlong's labour. The clothes are like a double claim they've put on each other, the most intimate of courting gifts, and Xinlong is overwhelmed by his own feelings towards it all.

Just two days ago he'd been dreading the idea of taking a mate, and now he can't stop himself from imagining what a future with Junmin might look like, as if some invisible force is drawing them together, fates irrevocably intertwined. He's not sure what it is that makes Junmin feel different, that makes falling for him feel more like embracing freedom when Xinlong had always viewed taking an alpha mate as stepping into a cage.

“It's very important,” Sangwon says without follow up, standing back to scrutinise the outfit before snapping his fingers and reaching for something else.

The first thing he holds up is an item of clothing that Xinlong has never seen before, and he stands perfectly still as Sangwon helps him into it. The stiff, silk-covered garment rests over his chest and upper abdomen, almost like armour plating, soft panels with thin boning wrapping around his ribs and waist to join over his spine with polished ivory pins. It pulls his shoulders back and makes him tilt his hips forward ever so slightly, the burnished golden silk stark against the black wool. The front is embroidered with one single, huge butterfly, so intricate in its detailing that it looks practically alive, as if the great winged creature has alighted on Xinlong's chest and embraced him, wrapping him up in its loving wings.

Junmin had been wearing a similar piece the night before, Xinlong suddenly realises, under his red silk over robe, and Xinlong touches it gently with the tips of his fingers, feeling the way its stiff boning works against the naturally soft shape of his torso, flattening and shaping him in a whole new way. “This is beautiful,” he says, tracing the edge of one embroidered wing.

“It suits you,” Sangwon tells him, and lifts up a decorative comb of wine-stained wood that has a matching filigree butterfly set on it. The comb disappears once he's slid it into Xinlong's hair, a perfect colour match, creating the illusion that it's the butterfly that has swept part of his hair back off his face. Sangwon leaves the other side with nothing more than a few strands curled around his finger until they sit in loose, pretty ringlets against Xinlong's cheek. “Almost done.” He brushes Xinlong's eyelids with gold powder, paints his lips with something dark and wet that tastes like plums and leaves the same colour behind, and then hands him something cold and heavy, pressing it into his hand almost reverently. “Junmin also said that, if you want it, this can be yours. Forever.”

Xinlong looks down to find the black pearl necklace resting in his palm.

Ordinarily, Xinlong would balk at such a gift, but something stays that reaction and he puts it on silently, the large black pearl resting perfectly between the butterfly's wings. He keeps one hand on it, fingers curled protectively around the gem, as he leaves his room and follows Sangwon out of the Pavilion towards the mess tent for breakfast.

“I have to go again,” Sangwon tells him before they part, “I have never ending duties here in the Keep, but I hope you have a good day today, Xinlong. I'll see you this evening to help you change again.” He taps the side of his nose with one finger. “Have fun exploring with your new privileges. I'm sure you'll stumble across the most helpful little guide somewhere.”

The thought of being allowed to seek Yunseo out makes Xinlong smile, and he waves Sangwon farewell before turning with his shoulders squared and his jaw set, ready to face the rest of the clan representatives. Bolstered by Junmin's letter, Xinlong enters the lion's den with his head held eye, green eyes sweeping the two tables for a friendly face.

Seowon and Haneum are sitting together again, another omega with them and an empty seat being held opposite them by one of Haneum's long legs stretched under the table. When he sees Xinlong coming, he pushes the chair out for him with a welcoming grin, waving for him to sit with them. “I almost thought you weren't coming this morning,” Haneum says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Narrowing his eyes in suspicion, Xinlong sits down and starts picking at the fruits again, mulling over his words before asking, “Do I even want to know what the rumours are saying about me?” sure that what Sangwon told him that morning is only the tip of the iceberg.

“Probably not,” Seowon replies, shaking his head in disapproval as he slides a carved wooden cup across the table to Xinlong, steam rising off the amber liquid inside. “Here, they brought around hot cider before you arrived, I saved you a cup.”

Xinlong blinks. “Hot... what?” he asks, tilting his head. He lifts the cup to his nose and takes a sniff of the steam, eyes fluttering as the mouth watering scent of baked apples and sweet spices fill his senses. “Wow, this smells amazing!”

“King Xiaoting's Apple Cider. They make it here in the Keep,” Seowon explains, smiling softly at Xinlong's almost childlike enthusiasm. “Apparently there's a secret grove of apples buried somewhere in one of the gardens that she had planted during her reign, and the recipe has been passed down ever since. They usually save it for winter feasts, but apparently the prince personally requested it be served at breakfast today.”

“That was nice of him,” Xinlong says, doing his best to keep his voice and expression level as he brings the cup to his lips. He ate one of those ‘secret grove' apples the night before – the cider has the exact same flavour, but somehow even richer, even more intense, sweet and syrupy and perfectly complemented by the other things added to the mix. He feels the heat of it flowing down his throat and settling comfortably in his stomach, and is immediately filled with the need to eat something a little more substantial than fruit, reaching across the table for the plate of cured meats by Haneum's elbow. “Stars, it tastes as good as it smells.”

Seowon and Haneum both chuckle at him good-naturedly, and Haneum says, “Just don't drink too much of it, it is alcoholic.”

Xinlong can taste that too, the sweet burn on the back of his tongue. “Just one cup will do,” he says, more warmth than just the cider filling him. He knows exactly why Junmin requested it be served today, and he has to resist the urge to brush his fingers over his lips.

As he's about to tuck into his breakfast, the girl beside Seowon suddenly asks him, “Your meeting was last night, wasn't it? You were lucky seven,” as she leans forward slightly, dark eyes fixed on him.

“Xinlong, this is Hyeri,” Seowon introduces her without looking up from his own food. “She's in room twelve, and her meeting is after mine today.”

“Nice to meet you,” Xinlong says in lieu of knowing what else to say to her. She looks like she's about to start vibrating from nerves, her hands repeatedly stroking the long rope braid of bronze hair draped over her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Hyeri shakes her head. “I'm afraid of saying something silly. I get so nervous around alphas, I practically forget how to speak – and I just know it's going to be even worse in front of the prince!” She gives her hair a reprieve as she puts her hands on her face, staring off into the distance forlornly. “I wasn't expecting to see him yesterday, and he's so much more handsome than I was expecting him to be.” She pauses, eyes widening. “Not that I expected him to be ugly or anything! But everyone always talks about how cold and stubborn he is, and for some reason I thought he would look... different.”

“Yes, how did your meeting go?” Haneum asks curiously, resting his chin on his knuckles as he eyes Xinlong off with a sly smile. His golden hair is swept up today, tiny white flowers threaded in the strands like a crown around his beautiful face. “You were ever so late getting back.”

Pointing his finger threateningly at Haneum, Xinlong says, “Don't you start. Nothing happened between me and Leo last night.”

Haneum, Seowon, and Hyeri all exchange glances. “Who said anything about Leo?” Seowon asks at the same time as Hyeri and Haneum both ask, “Who's Leo?” in identical tones of confusion.

Patting each of them on the arm, Seowon says, “Leo is the prince's first guard; he was in here yesterday with the prince. The one with the silver hair and eyes.” When both make a sound of faint recognition, Seowon adds, “He is also, apparently, Xinlong's assigned guard during the Trial, and Leo dropped Xinlong off well after curfew last night.”

“You're having it away with a royal guard?!” Haneum whisper-yells, looking thrilled, and Xinlong sinks down in his seat with a long groan.

“No!” he complains, sitting up again almost immediately as he discovers the gold butterfly brace makes it very difficult to bend his spine in such a slovenly way. No wonder Junmin wears them so often. “I just said nothing happened between me and Leo! He has a mate, and I'm not suicidal enough to get in the middle of that.” He pauses, has to fight a blush of his face when he says, “Besides, Leo isn't really my type.”

No, Xinlong's type is black haired, blue eyed, soft spoken princes who smell like roses and enjoy being the little spoon in a cuddle puddle – but he's not going to say any of that out loud.

“If you weren't having your way with one of the prince's guards,” a snide voice says, “then why were you so late coming back last night?”

Xinlong cowers slightly as Minhee suddenly drops into the empty chair next to him, swinging it around so she's facing him directly, her beautiful face just as pinched and sour as it was the day before, if not even more so. Her hair is down today, a few strands of her ash brown tresses pulled back off the face while the rest streams down her back like an artfully curled and styled waterfall, tiny white pearls scattered through the length. Apparently to match, her dress is simple and largely white, with a white lace overlay, the silhouettes of flying birds stamped around all the hems in ashdye. Her eyes are painted with it too, and Xinlong winces, hoping that she's used a stabilised version of the dye that has been double-boiled to make it skin safe, or she's going to end up with a horrible rash, if not an outright burn.

Minhee eyes him clinically, gaze scrutinising and turning mean as it sweeps over his outfit. “If you aren't sleeping with the prince's first guard, how have you ended up in the prince's clothing?”

Xinlong feels more eyes on him than he can see from where he's left staring at Minhee, wondering what to say. He has no desire to share anything that happened between him and Junmin last night with her; he barely wants to share it with his friendly acquaintances; but he fears that he is about to be coerced and pressured into doing so regardless of what he actually wants. The whispers start up again, quick to turn into outright discussion of his rumoured activities right in front of him, and they all know he can hear them.

“Little plains whore sleeping his way through the Trial, what else did you expect?”

“I heard half the guards have their eye on him, if you know what I mean.”

“Do you think he tried it on for the prince?”

“No way the prince would go for a little dust rat like that. You can dress a slut in black silk, but you can't change their nature.”

“Parading around in that colour like he's earned the right somehow.”

“He's painted his fingers with it again, did you notice?”

Xinlong slips his hands off the table, curling them into his lap subconsciously, a little surprised at the attention suddenly being drawn to them. He remembers what Sangwon said, that the Night's Kiss is important in the Keep in some way, and wonders what rule of social etiquette he's accidentally broken by simply baring the mark of his trade, anxiously playing with one of the gold rings on his thumb. Junmin had sent him half a wardrobe's worth of clothes dyed with it, and he's not sure if it's the gold butterfly or the black tunic that was so easily recognised as belonging to the prince, but something is telling him it's probably both.

“Well?” Minhee asks, crossing her arms and glaring at him as if she's somehow entitled to an answer.

Xinlong doesn't know what comes over him.

“Maybe you should think back over what made your meeting with Junmin so unbearable he was still drained from it when he had dinner with me,” he snaps, still looking down at his hands. He regrets it immediately; he's not usually ever one to resort to petty words and nastiness. Don't let that one get under your skin, Sangwon had said. Too late. Sorry, Sangwon, Xinlong mentally apologises to the attendant. Out loud he whispers, “Sorry, that was rude. I didn't mean it.”

He did mean it.

He means it even more when Minhee slaps him, two red splotches of fury colouring her high cheekbones as she leaves a sharp pink mark on Xinlong's face. “How dare you speak to me like that!” she snarls at him, her fangs elongating, snapping at him in a show of dominance that immediately gets everyone's spines ruffled, scents rising around them in response to the threat. “I'm a step away from royalty; you're just lucky to be here. You don't deserve to wear those clothes, you don't deserve a shot at the throne, and you definitely don't deserve to wear the queen's pearl!”

When Minhee's hand lashes out again, going straight for the black pearl hanging over Xinlong's heart like she means to rip it right off his neck, and he reacts on instinct, scent spiking and pupils dilating. His own hand darts up and snatches her wrist, catching her mere inches from grapping the pearl, and his claws dig into her skin in warning. Not pressing in hard enough to draw blood, but it's enough to give her a fright, her eyes fixed on the ashdye-stained claws against her veins.

“How—" she breathes, all her anger forgotten in her shock. She isn't stupid; she knows there’s no way Xinlong could have painted his claws that colour and have it survive a shift – they're as stained as the rest of his fingers. Her eyes flick up to his face then back to his fingers, mind working a mile a minute trying to connect the dots. “Who—?”

“What's going on here?” Gyehyeon's cold, cold voice rises above the commotion going on around them, the guard materialising from behind Minhee with his brows drawn and his eyes flashing. Xinlong immediately lets Minhee go, retracting his claws and hiding his hands in his lap again, but Gyehyeon isn't even looking at him. “Are you creating a commotion again, Minhee?”

Seowon takes a long sip of his cider and says, “She slapped Xinlong because she's jealous of his wardrobe,” as he hides his grin behind his cup.

“You-!” Minhee hisses at him, and he winks at her, which makes her let out a sound that would rival a boiling kettle.

“Sit down,” Gyehyeon tells her sharply, putting a hand on her and directing her away from Xinlong. “You all agreed to a code of conduct when you accepted your invitation to the Mate Trial, and that included a clause about physical violence towards other candidates. We are willing to overlook it once as Xinlong isn't hurt, but you will not be given another chance, Minhee.” He fixes her with a hard stare. “Don't give me a reason to have you removed from the Trial, because you know I'll do it with extreme prejudice, and I’ll enjoy every second of it, you little brat.”

“Ugh, I hate you,” Minhee tells him acidly, crossing her arms and stomping her foot, looking very much like she wishes Gyehyeon's toes were under the blow. For the first time, Xinlong wonders how old Minhee even is – he recalls a mention of an older brother, but now he has to wonder how much older. “I went through my wardrobe this morning, and I don't have anything from the royal family – how come the plains rat gets a Night's Kiss piece from the prince? It's not fair!”

Again, Seowon speaks before anyone else can, “I imagine you didn't get anything because you don't need anything, considering you live right here, and all. Isn't that what you were bragging about yesterday morning?”

“You're making it worse,” Haneum whispers to Seowon without actually making any attempt to stop him.

“Everyone go back to your own seats,” Gyehyeon barks around the mess hall, looking completely done with this conversation, and he stares Minhee down until she does as she's told. Once she's out of the way, his face relaxes into something that almost resembles a smile, and he reaches into his pocket, withdrawing a braided leather bracelet that has four glass beads on it, plus a golden charm in the shape of a rose. “Xinlong, this is for you. Your access privileges have been upgraded per our discussion with your assigned guard after your Trial meeting last night.”

Xinlong wishes Sangwon could have just brought him the bracelet with all his new clothes, but he supposes there's probably some Trial-related reason it's being given to him in public like this. And, it turns out, he isn't the only one – two more access bracelets are handed out, although he does notice that they only have three glass beads, instead of four.

As he slips it onto his wrist, brushing his thumb over the rose charm tenderly, he catches Seowon's eye. “What?” he asks quietly, turning back to his breakfast with his jaw set. His cheek hurts and he's done with everyone's attention being on him today. All Xinlong wants to do for the rest of the day is find Yunseo and spend some quality time with the sweet little kitten, if he won't be able to spend it with Junmin.

“You did something,” is all Seowon says. “Something the prince liked.” Then, he grins. “I said there was something about you. Something strange.”

“Well, I feel very strange right now,” Xinlong mutters, pushing the rest of his food away, his appetite spoiled. “I wish everyone would stop staring at me. I'm not doing anything on purpose, I'm just wearing what my attendant tells me to, and doing what my guard instructs me to, like everyone else.”

Seowon's smile doesn't shift. “Sure, let's call it that,” he says, and drains the last of his cider.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Junmin's day went south the moment he stepped out of his room, breakfasted and dressed to the nines again, ready for an excruciatingly long day of Trial meetings, only to find his mother waiting for him, the queen leaning poised and elegant against the wall opposite his bedroom door. “Morning, mother,” he says quietly, averting his eyes in the hope that he can avoid the conversation he knows is about to take place.

He's just glad Yunseo has already been collected for the day, off to play with Sanghyeon and Liyu in the fourth tier until he inevitably gives them a slip during a game of hide and seek and Leo has to go hunt him down again.

“Heading out already, darling?” the queen asks, pushing off the wall and gliding up to Junmin, the heavy hem of his velvet robe whispering over the stone floor. Junmin can see the gouges where his father's claws had raked the stone last night, all the blood cleaned but the permanent evidence still there for all to see. “Surely you can spare me a moment or two?”

Pursing his lips, Junmin crosses an arm over his body and starts to pick at the elbow of his tunic, the silk sleeve and fine embroidery withering under his golden nails. “Must I? Aren't you going to say the same thing to me that you do every time father forgets he still has a son?” He shakes his head. “I have too many people to meet today to spare a moment on that.”

The queen sighs, and Junmin swallows his guilt, knows that it isn't his mother's fault and he's being unfair by taking it out on the snow-haired omega. “Alright,” the queen relents, surprising Junmin enough that he looks up, their identical blue eyes meeting from across the scant distance between them. “You look so handsome today,” the queen says, his gentle smiling wobbling slightly as he lifts a hand to cup Junmin's cheek, turning his face this way and that to admire Sangwon's handiwork with his hair and makeup. “You look just like your father when I first met him.”

Closing his eyes, Junmin allows himself to take the compliment without stewing in it for once, and he turns his head slightly to kiss his mother's palm. “Thank you.”

“I hope you know how proud I am of you, of how brave you're being,” his mother says, thumb trailing over Junmin's cheek. He looks so tired, deep purple marks under his bloodshot eyes, and Junmin is sharply reminded that he is not the only person affected by his father's deteriorating health. “I know you never wanted this. Any of it. It was never supposed to be your burden.” The queen sighs again, his other hand coming up until he's cradling Junmin's face so tenderly in his palms. “My brave boy, can you ever forgive your parents' selfishness?”

Junmin curses silently as he feels his eyes start to well up, and he pulls out of his mother's grip. “Maybe one day, mother,” he says, as he always does when his mother asks him that cursed question, and the queen bows his head in acceptance. “If you have nothing else to say, I really have to go now. If I'm late to my own Trial, Leo will never let me live it down.”

“Bless that boy,” the queen says. “Give him a day or two off to spend time with his mate and kitten, won't you?” His smile is heart-breaking. “They don't stay kittens forever, you know.”

“Yes, mother,” Junmin huffs, as if he's the one who gets to decide when the rest of the guard are allocated holidays and not the king's first guard. “I'll see you... sometime later, I’m sure.” He's already walking away as he says it, trying to put as much distance between himself and his mother as he can before he starts crying first thing in the morning.

The queen calls out, “And Junmin? I hope that whoever you gave my pearl necklace to is worth it,” and Junmin freezes in his tracks, heart hammering. He didn't think his mother would notice that particular necklace missing so soon, considering he's never worn it once in the three years since Junmin brought it home for him. “I don't mind, you know. It deserves an owner who will treasure it more than I ever have.”

Junmin's face crumbles and he brings a hand to his face to catch the tears before they can fall and ruin Sangwon's hard work. “He is,” he chokes out, trying to stop his voice from wobbling. “He is worth it. More than you ever were.” And then he breaks into a run before his mother has the chance to reply.

ᓚᘏᗢ

There's a guard Xinlong hasn't met yet at the gate to the fourth tier. He hesitates partway up the path, following the hastily whispered instructions that Gyehyeon had passed to him right at the end of breakfast, and stares at the man in front of the gate warily. The alpha is gorgeous, surrounded by the blood red roses that mark the start of the fourth tier, his dark hair and darker eyes finding Xinlong immediately. He inclines his head and beckons the nervous omega forward with a small smile that is somehow both warm and cold at the same time.

“You must be Xinlong,” he says in a smooth, quiet voice, and he gently picks up Xinlong's wrist to study the bracelet there. The glass beads shine in the mid-morning light – one purple, one yellow, one crystal clear, and the other as red as the roses before him. “My name is Jiahao, I’m one of the prince’s guards. Now that you’ve been granted access into this tier of the Keep, you’ll be seeing a lot more of us, and possibly even some of the queen’s guards.”

Xinlong nods seriously, and wonders how many of the guards he is expected to win over before the end of the Trial. “Is Leo still my assigned guard, or is that no longer necessary?”

Jiahao smirks. “You got saddled with Leo? Tough break, kid.” Then, he shakes his head. “You can move from tier one all the way through to four without Leo now, but if, for some reason, you’re required to go higher, you’ll need either him or someone of equal or higher ranking to escort you until your access is updated again. Do you understand?” Xinlong nods again and Jiahao gives him an approving smile, offering him yet another one of his own inkpads to check himself into the tier. Before he lets Xinlong enter, though, Jiahao dips his hand into another pocket and produces a folded piece of parchment that he holds out to Xinlong between two long fingers. “This is for you, and only you. Destroy it once you’ve memorised it, okay?”

When Xinlong opens it, he is – perhaps naively – expecting another letter from Junmin. Instead, he’s met with a neat yet unfamiliar script in a short note, and then a hand-drawn map of the fourth tier.

Longlong, this is Sangwon. I forgot to give you this map in the morning, so you don’t get lost. Burn it in one of the lanterns later, there are some secret passages and entrances marked that only staff are supposed to know about, but you’re going to have to be familiar with them if you end up kitten wrangling like I expect you are.

Sangwon has helpfully circled a few of Yunseo’s favourite spots in the tier, and once Jiahao is sure that Xinlong understands the importance of destroying the map and actually lets him enter the tier, Xinlong heads straight for one of the marked areas, following his screaming instincts as he hunts down Yunseo. He ventures through beautiful flowerbeds and pristine rows of sculpted bushes in the shapes of cats striking various poses, and arduously makes his way over several low bridges spanning a series of small, decorative streams – sweat beading anxiously on his brows and temples as he does – until he emerges in a ring of pale pink and yellow blossom trees, each one dropping a slow shower of petals into the mild breeze, carrying their fragrant perfume around.

There, in the middle of the tree ring, Xinlong finds Yunseo, sitting almost morosely on a patchwork blanket with two young-looking alphas who are trying to get the little kitten to play with them without much success. Yunseo doesn’t look at all interested in any of the games they try to tempt him with, sitting with his knees folded against his chest and his chin resting on top of them, his hands clasped in front of his shins, his unusually sombre little face turned away as he stares off into the distance with a look in his eyes that is far too mature for his age.

Xinlong's stomach immediately sours at the sight of him looking so sad, and he picks up the pace, approaching Yunseo with single-minded intent. “What's wrong, little one?” he asks, dropping down on one knee in front of the kitten without even a glance at the two alphas attending to him, crouching directly in Yunseo's line of sight. “Why are you so sad?”

“Longlong,” Yunseo sniffles, eyes flicking to Xinlong's face before dropping down to the ground as tears wet his lashes. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” Xinlong murmurs. “Come here.” And he holds his arms out in invitation, giving himself a small, private smile when Yunseo crawls into them, burying himself against Xinlong's chest with a little mewl of distress. “Oh, baby, I've got you, it's alright. You're allowed to cry, it's okay, Yunseo. I've got you.”

Someone awkwardly clears their throat, and Xinlong’s head snaps up with a barely held-back hiss of warning, bright green eyes focusing on the pair of young alphas in front of him. They're pressed together, side by side on the blanket, scents so closely interwoven he can't pick out what belongs to who, and they're both staring at him with wide eyes, clearly at a loss for what to do with this omega who has suddenly encroached on their space.

“...Who are you?” the younger of the pair finally asks, skulking a little closer and running his eyes over Xinlong curiously, head tilted to the side like a puppy. “You're really pretty, and you're wearing the prince's clothes. Are you one of his friends?”

The other alpha nudges him with enough force that he topples over with an indignant yelp. “He's obviously one of the Mate Trial candidates,” he says with a giggle, laughing at his friend as he tries to right himself in a mad scramble. “You're the one the guards have been talking about, aren't you? The one the prince really likes already.” His eyes and hair are black as night, but his smile is all sunshine as he grins at Xinlong, warm and welcoming. “The one this little devil has attached himself to.”

“Mean, Liyu,” Yunseo mumbles into Xinlong's chest in a wet little voice, and the alpha – Liyu – giggles again, throwing his head back with his mirth.

Xinlong watches the interaction in contemplative silence, the words the one the prince really likes already blaring in his head. After a beat, he says, “Yes, I suppose that's me. I'm Xinlong. Junmin said it was alright for me to come and spend time with Yunseo today...?” it comes out more like a question than a statement, and Xinlong isn't second guessing himself, not with the confirmation of Junmin's letter supporting him, but he has no idea if that was communicated to Yunseo's babysitters of the day, and he doesn't want to step on anyone's toes.

“Wait, really?” the other alpha chirps, perking up instantly and sitting up straight. “Does that mean we can go? I had plans for the day and-” He falls silent, withering under the sudden intensity of Xinlong's glare. Pointedly, he looks down at Yunseo, who has curled even closer against Xinlong with a sad cry, and the young alpha's guilt is palpable in the air. “No, no, I didn't mean it like that, Yunseo!” he's quick to insist, genuinely looking horrified that he'd hurt the kitten's feelings. At least they seem to be aware of Yunseo's insecurities. “I'm sorry.”

Yunseo peeks out at him with a little pout. “Just for that, you should hang out with me and Xinlong all day, Sanghyeon,” he says, and the alpha wilts slightly, cowed by the kitten's teary eyes and flushed, chubby cheeks.

“You're both welcome to stay with us,” Xinlong says, a little tersely, and the pair of alphas nod frantically before he's even finished speaking, fumbling over each other to apologise to the kitten for upsetting him even more. “Now, can either one of you tell me what's going on?”

Liyu shakes his head quietly, tucking the longer strands of his hair behind his ears as he does. “He was already pretty down when we picked him up from the royal wing this morning... Sangwon said he had a rough night over something? We're too far down the food chain to hear all the details about that sort of thing.” He and Sanghyeon share a loaded look. “Maybe he'll tell you?”

Looking down at Yunseo, the kitten still resolutely staying ensconced in Xinlong's arms without any intention of leaving before he's ready, he drops his head to speak straight in the kitten's ear. “Do you want to tell me what happened, little one? Or do you just want to be sad about it? That's okay, too. Sometimes, you just need to be sad about things.”

“I wanna tell you,” Yunseo mumbles after a moment, one of his hands clutching the large black pearl and the other curled over the top of the golden chest brace, clinging on tightly. “But ‘m not allowed to. Not supposed to talk about it when... when that happens.”

That makes alarm bells start clanging in Xinlong's head. “Who said you're not allowed to talk about it?” he asks, trying to keep his voice level. Is someone hurting Yunseo? “Why aren't you allowed to tell me?”

Yunseo presses his face into Xinlong's throat. “Sangwonnie says I can't talk about it. It makes mama even sadder than me, and I don't like it when mama is sad.”

That makes both Liyu and Sanghyeon let out little noises, something registering to them that doesn't parse for Xinlong, and Sanghyeon scoots closer, whispering, “The king must've had one of his episodes last night,” in Xinlong's ear. “He upsets the entire royal wing when he does. Probably gave Yunseo a fright. We can hear him from the staff quarters in the sixth tier sometimes.”

Yunseo growls at him but doesn't refute the statement, just pushes his face into Xinlong's throat again, breathing in deeply and trying to keep his tears hidden, even as they wet Xinglong's skin. Xinlong puts a comforting hand on the back of his head, scratching his nails lightly through the boy's hair. “You don't have to tell me, not if you're not supposed to. Do you want to shift, little one? I'll give you a proper cuddle like that until you feel better.” Second later, he has a lapful of bronze fur as Yunseo practically explodes into his catskin, the canvas smock he'd been dressed in coming apart in two neat pieces connected with snap ties – this is obviously a common occurrence.

Bundling the kitten up against his chest, Xinlong lies down on the comfortable blanket and glares the two alphas into submission until they join him, all three of their heads pressed together as Xinlong starts to talk quietly, hands stroking warm fur until Yunseo is purring and kneading at his clothes with soft milky claws. “Here, look up there,” he says, pointing his chin up at the sky. “Don't the clouds look like sheep? Have you ever seen a sheep before, any of you? I doubt there's many of them this deep into the forest. We see them all the time out on the plains – the humans keep them in large droves.”

On and on, he prattles out mindless observations and anecdotes until Liyu and Sanghyeon get with the program and start joining in, the three of them easily distracting Yunseo from his bad mood until the kitten is meowing and chirping along with them, even though none of them can understand him while he's shifted.

Xinlong has no idea how long he spends lying on that blanket with Yunseo and the two alphas, but he's sure that it must have been quite a few hours, because he's suddenly interrupted mid-sentence by the growl of several hungry stomachs.

“Sorry,” Sanghyeon says sheepishly from where he's now partially curled against Xinlong's side, both young alphas bracketing the omega in-between them, just as eagerly hanging off his every word as Yunseo is. “I forgot to eat breakfast.”

“Again?” Liyu grumbles, reaching across Xinlong's belly to smack Sanghyeon's arm. “What's the point in me bringing you food in the morning if you never eat it?”

Sanghyeon smacks him right back, an all-out slap fight almost starting before Xinlong hisses at them both in warning and they settle down obediently, as malleable as little kittens. “You don't bring food for me, you bring your food and then use me like your own personal table.”

That makes Xinlong chuckle, the mental image amusing him greatly, and he carefully extracts himself from between the bickering pair, sitting up with Yunseo cradled in his arms. “I heard that someone here loves the kitchen's sweetcakes,” he says, and Yunseo's ears flick forward in excitement. “How about you two show me the way and we'll see if we can find some lunch.”

Which is how Xinlong finds himself down in the second tier after Sanghyeon and Liyu eagerly led him through one of the secret staff passages from Sangwon's map, Yunseo still in his arms as the odd little trio head for the kitchens. The kitchens are inside the Keep properly, held safely in the belly of the mountain where the natural heat from the hot springs can be used to aid the cooking, and Xinlong marvels at them as Sanghyeon tugs him inside the grand chamber by the elbow, Liyu darting ahead to find someone with an excited shout. It's a marvel of nature and technology, great wooden benches bracketed to the rough rock walls, ice chests stacked almost to the ceiling on one side, and huge racks of dried and curing meats strung overhead. Iron cauldrons the size of a fully grown shifter bubble over giant fires, savoury stews and sweet jams filling the air with their mouth-watering aromas.

Xinlong's stomach joins the cacophony as he is painfully reminded that he barely ate breakfast, and he sets Yunseo down on his paws, helping the kitten back into his smock as he shifts behind Xinlong's legs, clinging to his thigh again. He looks much happier now, tears gone and smile lighting up his face once more, even if it's still a touch withdrawn. Xinlong makes it his personal mission for the rest of the day to get Yunseo’s spirits all the way up again, to the best of his abilities.

“Over here, Xinlong!” Liyu calls to him, and Sanghyeon grabs his elbow again, towing Xinlong and Yunseo both in the direction of Liyu's voice, the older alpha waiting for them by a bench that is slightly off to the side, out of the way of the main preparations. The wooden surface is dusted with flour and sugar and smeared with streaks of wet egg and slowly melting butter, cooling racks of cakes and tarts and biscuits hung underneath it. “This is Guo Zhen,” Liyu tells Xinlong, pointing to the dark-haired omega behind the bench, who is elbow-deep in the largest ball of bread dough Xinlong has ever seen in his life. “He usually makes the stews and noodles, but the kitchen is down a few workers today.”

The omega in question huffs and rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “We've got over thirty extra mouths to feed, Liyu. We're not down a few workers, we're just busier than usual.” Then he turns his eyes onto Xinlong and Yunseo, and he eyes Xinlong up and down with one eyebrow quirked. “Well, you don't look as gullible as Anxin, so I trust you won't be as much as a pushover when the little one asks for more food than he allows?”

Xinlong grins. “Oh, no, I fully intend to give him everything he asks for today.”

“On your own head, be it,” Guo Zhen laughs, and extracts his hands from the bread dough. He bends over, practically disappearing behind the bench, and emerges again with a wooden tray in his grip, already stacked with sugar-dusted sweet cakes, clay bowls of steaming soup, a loaf of fresh bread, and some sliced apples. “I had a feeling I’d need to prepare some spare lunch today,” is all he says, laughing again when Sanghyeon swoops in to take the tray from him with a chirp of thanks. “Take that outside and don't come back until it's all gone.”

Which is exactly what they do, the four of them sitting in a beam of golden afternoon sun and tucking into the delicious food with their bare fingers, only moving again when the tray is empty and the sky starts to turn pink. Only then, leaning comfortably against a stone wall with Yunseo perched in his lap, does Xinlong let himself wonder what Junmin is doing right in that moment. Somewhere above them, surrounded by the white roses of the third tier, the prince is being wooed by one of the other Trial candidates, no doubt someone who has had to prepare dinner for him the same way Xinlong was asked to.

He wonders if Junmin is going to get to eat at all that night, without Yunseo there to direct the chosen few candidates in picking the few simple foods the prince will actually eat. He wonders if Junmin is going to get to relax tonight, if he will be able to let go of himself and just be, as he'd described it to Xinlong, or if he's going to have to be ‘on' until the moment he crawls into bed.

Xinlong is suddenly filled with the insane desire to track the prince down and make sure Junmin gets at least a few minutes to himself, and he has to hastily talk himself down, knows that that would be in direct violation of the Trial rules. Instead, he forces himself to keep his attention on Yunseo, hugging the kitten close and basking in the attention himself, something in his instincts feeling settled and fulfilled the longer he’s around the kitten.

ᓚᘏᗢ

The next day passes almost exactly the same way, although Yunseo is in much better spirits when Xinlong ventures up to the fourth tier to find him that morning. He skips breakfast, not particularly feeling up to seeing Minhee or any of the other candidates after the way they'd all looked at him when he returned to the Pavilion the night before, and he's surprised to find Yunseo waiting for him with another attendant and a picnic basket.

“You must be Anxin,” Xinlong says as he sits down on the same blanket as yesterday, taking note of the woven straw hat hanging around the young alpha's neck. He's a beautiful boy, all long lines and shining silver eyes under his messy mop of copper hair, and when he smiles at Xinlong, deep dimples pop in his cheeks – Xinlong practically swoons at the adorable sight. “I'm under strict instructions not to let you eat your way into a food coma today.”

Anxin's smile stretches into a sly grin. “I'd like to see you try, Xinlong,” he says, as if they're old friends and not brand new acquaintances. “I'm not some kitten you can win over with hugs and gentle words.”

It turns out, Anxin is even easier to win over than Yunseo was, and when Anxin parts for the night, Yunseo perched on his back and waving forlornly at Xinlong as they have no way of knowing what Xinlong's schedule will look like tomorrow with the Trial advancing to the next stage, he confidently calls Xinlong his friend. It makes Xinlong feel strangely warm and fuzzy inside, and he's still smiling brightly when he enters the mess hall for the mandatory dinner that night.

“What's got you so happy?” Seowon asks as Xinlong sits down next to him, turning his sparkling eyes on Xinlong like he's sniffing out potential gossip. “I don't think I've ever seen you smile before.”

Xinlong scoffs at him, trying to force his face into his usual politely neutral expression, and tries to change the subject. “How did your meeting with the prince go? I'm sorry I forgot to ask you yesterday – or this morning.”

“Well, I'm not going to count myself as a possible future mate for him, that's for sure,” Seowon says with a light chuckle, leaning back in his chair slightly with a faraway look in his eyes. “But it was nice. We both established that we... have our sights set on other people. Let's put it like that. So we just sat by the duck pond and talked for an hour until it was Hyeri's turn.” His expression flattens out then. “I don't think hers went so well – I won't say I followed them, but I happened to catch part of it, and she was clammier than the kitchen's fish chowder, the poor girl.” Shaking his head, he says, “When she comes over, don't bring it up. She was quite distraught at breakfast.”

Thankfully, no one asks why Xinlong wasn't at breakfast. Breakfast is technically one of the mandatory attendance requirements for the Trial, but Xinlong is feeling a little more comfortable with bending the rules where Yunseo is concerned. Even Junseo seems to have finally warmed up to him, no longer shooting him discouraging looks or trying to dissuade him from interacting with the prince's ward. Xinlong has no idea what sort of discussions pass between the guards and other staff who directly tend to Junmin, but he's starting to get the impression that they're all aware of the budding affection he and the prince share for each other.

If he lets himself think that Junmin was talking about him to Seowon, no one has to know that but Xinlong's inner monologue.

He and Seowon are joined again by Haneum and Hyeri, and then joined by a few new faces and names that Xinlong can barely keep up with. It turns out that Seowon is the biggest social butterfly to ever grace the forest with his presence, and he's slowly picking up and befriending everyone he can get his claws on, whether they want to be his friend or not. By the time he's done with them, of course, they're more than happy to be his friend – Xinlong certainly is.

Conversation flows as easily as the light, fruity wine that passes between them, and Xinlong actually finds himself engaging with the omegas around him for the first time, not at all shy or withdrawn with alcohol singing in his veins. He laughs more and smiles more, and any negative comment aimed at him by the other clan representatives around him just roll right off his back without him even noticing. In fact, he's having such a good time, he doesn't even notice his impending doom until Minhee is standing across the table from him, her face a thunderous mask.

But that's not what catches Xinlong's attention.

She's speaking to him, he's vaguely aware of that, but his eyes are caught on the wooden jar in her hands. It's about as long as her forearm, slender and perfectly cylindrical, the pale wood oiled to a near mirror shine. Xinlong knows that it's lacquered on the inside with resin from the same tree, rending it completely waterproof, and also airtight once the perfectly carved stone lid is screwed into place. The jar is painted with simple black lines of ashdye paint, sealed in by the oiling, both lid and jar baring different but complementary makers' marks.

“Where did you get that?” Xinlong rasps, actually standing up and rubbing at his eyes to make sure he's not imagining it. He interrupts her, and the look of offence on her face says that if there wasn't a table between them, she probably would have slapped him again. Xinlong doesn't care, too tipsy from the wine and good company to realise the situation he's in. “That jar, where did you get it?”

“It belongs to me,” she says, waspish and annoyed. “Well, it belongs to my father. But he won't miss it too much, we've got several of them.” She smirks at him, and Xinlong knows he's missing something, that there's an importance to what she said. He still doesn't care, just staring at the jar with his heart in his throat. “I just thought you should know how utterly outclassed you are here.” She lifts a hand from the jar, gesturing it at Xinlong. “You can wear as many pieces of borrowed Night's Kiss as you want, you can stain your hands with it, but you'll never own it. Not like I do.”

Xinlong blinks at her, slow and confused. “Own... it? Own what? The dye?” He looks down at his hands, holding them up slightly. His outfit is sleeveless today, a knee-length tunic of black silk that ties around him with golden thread, matching golden bands slipped up his biceps, the black pearl sitting pride of place over his heart once more. “I don't need to own the dye. I make the stuff.” It comes out so easily, and Xinlong doesn't even know why he'd been keeping that a secret. He lets his claws slip out, shows off the ashdye staining his hands. “Do you think my hands look like this for fun?”

“Make it?” Minhee scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Pull the other one, Plains Dust. Everyone knows the Night's Kiss is made here in the Keep – the recipe is an ancient and closely guarded secret.” She slaps her hand down on the stone lid of the jar, unscrewing it. The scent of the ashdye wafts out, so strong and acidic that everyone but Xinlong winces, some even gagging at it, and Minhee looks shocked, her eyes watering.

She's probably never actually seen or smelled the dye in its raw form. Xinlong has no idea why her father would own several jars of it, and in that moment, it's not a pressing concern – not when her hand goes slack from her shock and the stone lid tumbles from her grip, hitting the flagstone floor and cracking in half.

The maker's mark chips, his mother's proud work breaking before his eyes.

Xinlong launches himself over the table with a cry of anguish, crouching on the ground and gathering the two pieces into his stained hands, holding them to his chest. He hasn't seen one of his parents' jars since he was a tiny kitten, the last of their batches of dye being traded off to the Keep mere months before they'd both died. For some reason, seeing his mother's stone work breaking right in front of him hurts almost as much as watching the light leave her eyes, the cracked stone cold and still in his grip like her cold, lifeless hand had once been.

“How could you?” he says, looking up at Minhee with tears in his eyes. “How could you be so careless with someone's hard work? With their art? Do you have no shame? No respect? Do you think everything just materialises, fully formed, from the ether?” He reaches up his other hand. “Give me the jar before you break that too.” He won't let his father's beautiful, careful wood turning join the stone lid in being carelessly destroyed by a little girl who has no appreciation for the things around her. “Don't spill the dye, you'll burn yourself.”

Minhee shrieks angrily from behind the hand she has held over her nose to block out the smell. “You don't get to talk to me like that,” she snarls, and he really does think that she's going to hit him again. “You're nothing. You want to wear the royal family's colour so badly? Fine!”

Minhee doesn't hit him.

Minhee throws the jar of ashdye at him.

Xinlong barely manages to shut his eyes before the dye splashes over him, thick drops of it hitting his face and neck and dripping down his chest and arms. He's familiar with the burn of it, hardly feels it as it tingles on his skin, but Haneum isn't so lucky, and he gets caught by some of the splashback, a few stray drops flecking his bare feet. “Get it off his skin,” Xinlong manages to wheeze out, prising his left eye open slightly, wary of the dye getting under his lashes, and he finds that there are already several people surrounding Haneum as he whimpers in pain and shock, even more around Minhee, comforting her like she wasn't the one making a scene in the first place.

No one dares approach Xinlong, dripping black all over the stones, and he lets out a shaky sob, snatching the wooden jar off the ground and staggering to his feet. He needs to wash the dye off now, or he's going to lose a layer of skin. Not wanting to head back to the Pavilion and its communal showers, he leaves the mess tent and keeps going deeper into the second tier, half-remembered directions turning him onto a path lined with white roses.

The hot springs swim into view as he forces himself to keep moving and not give into the stinging burn starting to sweep over him. He's never had the dye on his skin like this before – his hands are practically immune to it at this point in his life, but the rest of him isn't, and it's starting to hurt. His right eye burns, and Xinlong is terrified that some of the dye has managed to drip into it, anxious thoughts straying to old blind Yueyue who lost sight both eyes to an over-boiled pot of dye slopping over the edge as he was tending to it.

His pain overrides his fear of water as Xinlong climbs over the rocks lining the picturesque pool of steaming water, half-blind and starting to cry from the pain and shock, and he sits down heavily at the water's edge, already tearing at his dye-soaked clothes, trying to get them off. The jar and its broken lid roll out of his hands, and his tunic slaps wet and ruined to the stones, leaving Xinlong naked and dripping with ashdye. He starts to scoop up handfuls of the hot water, getting as close to it as he dares without getting into it, washing himself frantically.

Splashing his face first, he takes care with his eye, crying even harder in relief when he can finally open his right eye and can still see out of it – not well, never well, his vision started deteriorating years ago – and then he moves onto his mouth and neck and down his chest, revealing angry, shiny pink skin under the thick dye. It hasn't burnt him, he got to it in time, but it's a close call. He's probably going to get a rash everywhere it touched him, and he doesn't even have any of Halmoni's salve to tend to it, didn't think to bring any with him when he set off for the Keep.

“Stupid, stupid fool,” he snarls at himself, scrubbing angrily at his arms. “Why did you let your guard down like that? Thinking they would just let you exist peacefully.”

He scrubs and washes and scrubs and washes until he's not sure if he's still trying to wash the dye off or if he's trying to wash off the horrid words that have been slung at him. Xinlong thought it hadn't affected him, that he didn't care every time they called him a whore or insulted his intelligence to his face, but it did, it did. No matter how good his mask is, underneath, his feelings lie fragile and tender just below his porcelain surface.

Eventually, he's left crouching at the edge of the hot springs shivering despite the heat of the steam around him, his arms wrapped around himself as he tries to get his tears to stop. For the first time since he arrived at the Keep, Xinlong wants to go home. He doesn't want to stay were no one wants him, where he is treated like he is nothing more than the dirt clinging to the bottom of someone's foot, and he can't believe he ever agreed to come in the first place.

The only good thing that's happened to him here is meeting Yunseo, and meeting Junmin. It's only been four days, but Xinlong can admit that he loves them both more than he reasonably should, more than he should ever have been allowed to, more than he ever deserves to. He's selfish and he wants to keep them both, even if he flees back to the plains with his bruised and beaten heart stuffed in his parents' broken jar.

Xinlong sits and feels sorry for himself for so long that the moon rises overhead and mists the hot springs silver, the hot water lapping at his feet, his sorry corner still swirling with black as the dye washes away. He thinks he's dreaming when he sees, of all people, Junmin suddenly emerge from the other side of the springs in a cloud of steam, as if the prince had been summoned by Xinlong merely thinking about him. He's so beautiful in the moonlight, pale skin lit up and his blue eyes glowing from across the water, but he doesn't seem to see Xinlong there as he steps up to the edge in nothing but a linen robe.

When he drops the robe, even more pale skin revealed to the moon's gentle touch, Xinlong accidentally pitches forward in shock, his eyes so wide they ache. As the prince makes to step into the hot spring, Xinlong gasps, and Junmin finally looks up, startled, almost frightened to realise that he is not alone at the water's edge.

Their eyes lock. Junmin's mouth forms Xinlong's name, and Xinlong?

Xinlong's foot slips on the wet stone, his balance shaky and his weight thrown forward. He pitches inelegantly into the spring with a frightened yelp, the hot water closing over his head before he knows what's happening, filling his mouth and nose and ears. As Xinlong gives a mighty thrash, afraid and unused to being completely submerged, his mind can only conjure one thought that isn't about his apparent impending death.

Prince Junmin is an omega, just like me, he thinks hysterically, his lungs shrieking and his vision spotting. No wonder he's so easy to love.

Chapter Text

The last of the Trial Meetings can't come soon enough. Junmin is exhausted before it even starts, and he actually apologises to the poor boy he's meeting with – a very sweet, very polite omega from one of the River Clans named Woojin, who is more than understanding that Junmin has all but run out of energy after meeting with thirty-five other people in the last two days. By the time the hour is up, Junmin is apologising more than he is carrying on a proper conversation, and Woojin keeps waving him off with polite bows of his head and promises that he isn't offended.

“It's just the luck of the draw, Prince Junmin,” he says more than once. “Or the un-luck, in my case. I'm sure we'll have much more productive conversations over the rest of the Trial.”

Junmin thanks him quietly and makes his escape from the third tier the moment Woojin and his assigned guard disappear from sight. Unfortunately, this means passing through the fourth tier, as Junmin usually tries to avoid using the staff passageways when he doesn't have Sangwon or Leo with him; technically, he's not supposed to know about those particular entrances and exits and he hates lording that power over the rest of the staff. The red roses along the path give way to purple hydrangeas as he nears the gate into the fifth tier, and as he's idly wondering if Yunseo might still be out playing with Anxin this late – and, his heart thinks hopefully, maybe Xinlong too - he's waylaid by a voice calling his name.

“Prince Junmin, good evening! I was hoping I'd catch you before you retired for the night.”

Gritting his teeth against the disappointed yowl he wants to let out, Junmin plasters his politest expression on his face and turns his head to see a lone alpha leaning against the wall blocking the end of the fourth tier from the start of the fifth tier, watching him closely with glinting amber eyes.

“Minkyun,” Junmin greets the man cordially, trying to muster up a smile.

He's not sure if he succeeds, considering how tired and done with personal interaction he is for the day, but Minkyun doesn't seem phased. Then again, Minkyun barely ever seems phased by anything – if he weren't the son of a noble family, he'd have made a terrifying addition to the king's guard.

“To what do I owe this impromptu meeting?”

Minkyun pushes off the wall and saunters over to Junmin, still giving him that same curling grin, and he stops just uphill of where the prince is standing, turning the few inches of difference in their heights into several inches. Junmin feels as though the alpha is towering over him, and he has to bite his tongue to reel in the instinct to either step back or bare his neck. “I just wanted to ask you how the Trial was going,” he says, and though he sounds sincere, Junmin knows that he's anything but.

Once, a very long time ago, Minkyun had been betrothed to the omega child of the king and queen of the shifter kingdom. Though he had only been a young kitten at the time, Minkyun has never forgiven nor has he forgotten that his future bride had been snatched away from him, and still likes to take out his frustrations over it on Junmin himself.

“Well, they're going about as well as can be expected, given my marked lack of social skills that you like to bring up as often as possible,” Junmin mutters, brows creasing slightly when Minkyun chuckles at him, slightly mean lilt to the sound. “We both know you don't actually care about the Trial. What is it that you really want to ask me, Minkyun? I'm tired and I want to go to bed.”

Minkyun leers a little closer, lifting a hand to cup Junmin’s elbow, drawing the prince in even more so he can whisper in his ear. “I want to know when you're going to name my sister one of the final candidates so that you and I can... hash out some sort of arrangement. Your family still owes me a bride, and I can give you the heir your father so desperately wants. Considering the one you already have wasn't worth the title. Only half noble blood, and all that.”

The hiss that Junmin lets out is throaty and violent, and he snatches his arm from Minkyun's grip with his claws extended. “Speak on my son again and I'll claw your eyes out,” he growls, eyes flashing and fangs bared. “Your sister is lucky to still be in the running for the Trial, with all the fuss she's caused just in the first three days.” He sidesteps Minkyun and makes for the gate again. Over his shoulder, he says, “And my family owes you no such thing – nor will you and I be making any sort of arrangement. I will choose my mate as the Trial dictates, and you won't even be an afterthought in my choice. An heir will come when the time is right.”

As he tries to walk on, tries to walk away from Minkyun, a hand wraps around his bicep, pulling him to a short stop with more strength than he has the energy to fight off. Junmin's heart thuds, sticky and afraid, and his scent starts to sour, filling the air with the smell of dying roses. “Don't you walk away from me, Junmin,” Minkyun says with a light snarl in his voice, his own scent rising up to meet Junmin's, acrid like the slick of oil on stagnant water. He yanks Junmin back towards him, practically pulling the prince off balance until Junmin's shoulders hit his chest. He coils his other arm around Junmin's waist, holding him still, heartbeat hammering against the thick meat of his arm.

“Let me go,” Junmin growls, teeth still bared and his eyes flashing dangerously. He curls his hands around Minkyun's arm, digs his claws deep into the leather of the man's vambraces until he's sure he is hitting skin. “Get your hands off me at once.” He doesn't thrash or fight like he so desperately wants to, doesn't want to give Minkyun the satisfaction of seeing him squirm, but he does start to shift subtly, claws elongating until he can feel blood beading under the tips and his fangs descending, giving his words a distorted, animalistic edge. “I won't warn you again.”

“No,” Minkyun murmurs, his lips brushing over Junmin's throat, making the prince freeze in his hold. “I won't warn you again, omega.” He noses at Junmin's nape, under his hair where his scent glands are barely covered by the stiff collar of his tunic. “You're going to think very long and hard about who you pick in this little charade your mother has cooked up to keep the wool over the kingdom's eyes, or you might just find it forcibly lifted for you.” He tightens his hold on Junmin, chin hooked over the prince's shoulder, his hand splayed low over Junmin's belly, fingers digging in hard. “Don't forget, I know all your secrets, Junmin. All of them. How do you think the people would react if they knew the real story about how their prince acquired his precious ward?”

Junmin has had enough of this conversation. He doesn't necessarily care for his own wellbeing, even as Minkyun's hand threatens to slip even lower down his body than where it's already resting over his belly, but brining up Yunseo, twice – once to threaten him – is a step too far and twice too many, even for Minkyun. He twists his body in the alpha's grip and sinks his fangs into the first patch of skin he can reach, biting in hard and deep with a growl to show his true displeasure with the alpha. It catches Minkyun off guard and the alpha drops him instantly, letting Junmin stagger away from him with blood dripping down his chin and off his fingers. He's left a bloody great hole in Minkyun's bicep, and the alpha is swearing at him, clamping his opposite hand over it to try and staunch the bleeding.

“You little bitch, how dare you—” Minkyun spits out, which is when Leo steps out of the shadows and kicks the back of his knees in, sending him crashing down to the ground in a deep bow.

“How dare you,” Leo says in a surprisingly even voice, planting his foot between Minkyun's shoulder blades and pushing him down even further. “I could have you thrown in the dungeons for touching the prince like that, never mind everything you just said to him. Stay down and repent.” When Leo glances up at Junmin, he bows his head deeply. “I apologise for being so late, my prince. I lost track of you when you slipped away from your last meeting. It's my mistake.”

Junmin waves him off. He's used to flitting away from his guards when they least expect it (and then he wonders where Yunseo picked up the habit) so he's not at all mad. He knew Leo would show up eventually. “It's fine. Just get him out of my sight.” He drags his wrist across his mouth, not caring at all as blood seeps into the tight silk sleeve of his top, staining the white embroidered flowers. He turns burning blue eyes down on Minkyun and says in a voice that is cold as ice, “Let me make this perfectly clear: if you threaten me or my family again, especially my son, I will personally slice you limb from limb in the central courtyard for the entire Keep to see, and then I will feed you piece by piece to the pigs in the ground sties. Do you understand me? I don't care what standing you think your family has in court.”

When Minkyun says nothing, merely scoffing at Junmin as if he doesn't believe him, Leo shoves him right down onto his stomach, foot crushing down on his spine hard enough to make the bones creek. “I can still have you taken to the dungeons for assaulting the prince,” he warns the alpha.

“Look at me when I address you,” Junmin commands, exhaustion forgotten as he holds himself tall and puts on his full prince persona. It's the only time he ever feels like the alpha he must masquerade being, voice so hard it could shatter glass. Minkyun casts a fleeing glance up at him, seeming to finally realise that he's royally put his foot in it this time. “If you try to intervene in this Mate Trial in any way – be it to aid your sister or to force your own agenda, then I will have your entire family banished from the Keep. If you touch me again, I'll have your hands for wall decorations. If you so much as mention my son, or my gender, to anyone before the Trial is over, I'll have your tongue to match.” He stretches a leg out, digs his clawed toes into Minkyun's already bleeding shoulder until the alpha groans in pain. “I'd rather lay myself bare to the people myself and face their judgement than be tied to the likes of you for the rest of my life.”

“You can't hide it forever, Junmin,” Minkyun spits out. “Don't you know how hard it is for two omegas to produce a biological child together? And what are you going to do when your little bastard is old enough to go out amongst the people and they see the colour of his eyes? When they see that he inherited the king's eyes?”

“Alright, that's enough,” Leo says, taking his foot off Minkyun's back to haul him to his feet, keeping his arms twisted behind his back. “Let's get you to the healers so Suren can patch you up, and then I think a night in the holding cells will do you a world of good.”

If Junmin truly had his way, he'd have Minkyun shipped off to rot in the dungeons below the first tier. Unfortunately, he's not allowed to do that to the son of a noble family without something truly severe happening first, and as he has no desire to encourage that to happen just so he can get rid of an inconvenience, Junmin has to deal with the rules and regulations of being the prince. The holding cells will be awful for Minkyun anyway; they have no windows and the thick stone walls completely cut shifters off from the pull of the moon. Being in there overnight will certainly knock the cocky alpha down a peg or two.

“Take him away,” Junmin murmurs, waving a dismissive hand at Leo. “I'm retiring to my chambers; don't let anyone in to disturb me except Sangwon.”

Leo inclines his head. “Yes, my prince.”

As soon as Leo has dragged Minkyun out of sight, all of Junmin's bravado melts away as he sucks in a rattling, shaky breath and puts both his hands to his face. There are already tears splashing down his cheeks and Junmin has to clasp his hands over his mouth to keep the frightened sobs from escaping. He doesn't sink down to his knees, but it's a close thing as he crouches on the ground with his head bowed. Junmin knew that Minkyun wanted him, that the alpha has always wanted him purely because he was denied having Junmin when they were children, but Minkyun has never been so bold – so brazen – before, to touch him like that, to threaten him in such a way.

To threaten his kitten's safety.

Only a tiny number of people in the Keep know Junmin's secrets; he can count them on two hands. Those select few know the two tiny truths that could forever change or even ruin his life should they get out before he's ready, if they get out at all. One, a secret that Junmin has been keeping his entire life; the other, one that he will protect with his entire life.

The fact that Minkyun can hold both of those things over his head has brought Junmin nothing but sleepless nights over the years, especially now. It makes him feel weak and small, knowing that everything he loves could be brought crashing down by one spiteful man.

His tears subside after a few moments of allowing himself to wallow in them, and though he's still trembling slightly from the adrenaline crash joining forces with his pre-existing exhaustion, he finally makes his way to the gate and into the fifth tier. How he manages to get to the seventh tier and into his chambers, however, Junmin has no idea. It's as if he blinks and he's suddenly standing in front of the polished silver mirror in his bedroom, staring at the blood slowly drying on his chin and throat with wide, haunted eyes.

That's how Sangwon finds him sometime later, still standing in front of the mirror, standing still as a statue. “Oh, darling,” Sangwon murmurs, walking over and gently steering Junmin away from the grim sight. “Let's get you cleaned up.” He walks the prince over to his bed and makes him sit down, disappearing into the bath chamber and returning with a wet cloth that he uses to wipe away the blood and tears from his face and hands, followed by a second cloth that he dabs over Junmin's scent glands on either side of his neck, washing away the sour scent of fear and anger. “At least you have the whole day to yourself tomorrow; no more Trial duties until the end of the week.”

“I hate it,” Junmin whispers, limp and still as Sangwon undresses him and pulls a thin linen robe around him, clearly getting ready to draw him a bath. “Wonnie, I don't know if I can last three months of this. Not when I've already made my decision.”

Sangwon’s breath catches slightly, but he keeps his face calm and neutral. “Already? He affected you that much?”

“I haven't slept a wink since I left him in the orchard the other day,” Junmin replies. “I don't know what it is, but some part of me is so drawn to him that just the mere scent of him clinging to Yunseo in the evenings is like a drug to me. I'm going crazy not being able to see him - it's taking all of my self control not to just go down there and find him.” He puts a hand to his forehead, sighing deeply. “Are you sure I can't just... ask him now, and be done with it?”

Smiling sympathetically, Sangwon shakes his head. “Unfortunately, no. But trust me, you're not the first Trial Seeker to feel that way, and you certainly won't be the last.” He strokes an affectionate hand through Junmin's hair and then makes to go back to the bath chamber, already muttering to himself about heating the water.

Junmin stops him by gently catching his hand. “Wait, don't bother with the bath. Go and have the night to yourself, Sangwon. Spend time with Leo and Chingyu; I know you three rarely get time as a family. I'm going to go down to the hot springs.”

Given what Junmin just said, about wanting to go and find Xinlong, Sangwon is immediately suspicious of his motivations. “Junmin...” he says, a note of warning in his voice.

“Oh, don't give me that,” Junmin interrupts him, waving his hand and giving Sangwon a wry smile. “I promise I'm just going to bathe; I want to wash away the feeling of that bastard's hands on me. I won't go anywhere or do anything I'm not supposed to. I still want to say goodnight to Yunseo before he goes to bed, so I won't even be heading down until the moon's up, and that's when curfew starts for the clan representatives.”

Although Sangwon purses his lips in clear disapproval, he can't actually deny that logic, so he allows it. “Fine. Just don't stay out there all night; I'm not dressing you if you look like a wrinkly piece of dried fruit in the morning.” That gets a laugh out of Junmin, and Sangwon reluctantly leaves the prince to his own devices with a tight hug and a whisper that he'll be there immediately if Junmin needs anything.

Junmin bids him farewell with a wave and a smile, and then ducks into the small adjoining room, where he finds Anxin trying to wrestle Yunseo into his sleep clothes for bed. The kitten isn't having a bar of it, running around half shifted with his bronze fur rippling across his skin.

The moment Yunseo catches sight of Junmin in the doorway, he lets out a loud shriek of, “Mama!” and bursts into his catskin completely, leaping into Junmin's arms from halfway across his room.

Junmin catches his kitten with practiced ease and brings the ball of fluff in close against his chest, letting Yunseo bury under the neckline of the robe to nuzzle against his bare skin. “Hey there, my little sunshine. Are you giving Anxin a hard time again?” he coos, pressing a kiss between Yunseo's tufted ears. As he does, he grins at Anxin over the kitten's head, the young alpha throwing his hands up in relief now that Junmin has arrived and can actually get Yunseo to behave for him.

Still grinning, Junmin pulls the door shut and carries Yunseo towards his bed, all his aches and pains and turmoils from the day forgotten now that he has his baby in his arms again.

ᓚᘏᗢ

Several hours later, Junmin is back on the paths through the lower tiers, feeling much more at peace in the solitude of night after spending some quality time with Yunseo before putting the kitten to bed. He walks with ease and leisure, the entire Keep silent and sleeping with the moon at her highest point in the sky. Although he still wants to just keep walking past the springs and find Xinlong wherever he is inside the Rose Pavilion, Junmin dutifully sticks to his goal until the rocks of the hot springs come into view.

They're just on the border between the third and second tiers, a ring of smooth black rocks surrounded by white roses, the pool of steaming water stretching out wide across the grounds. The hot springs are beautiful in the moonlight, the water turned silver under the beams, and he can feel the steam on his skin long before he reaches them, the light hem of his linen robe fluttering in the faint night breeze. Usually, the springs are open for public use, but with so many visitors in the Keep, all the staff and guards have been told to keep mum about them until later in the Trial, when their guests have settled enough to be trusted in such a peaceful place. Confident that no one should be there, especially at this time of night, Junmin steps up to the water's edge without bothering to check his surroundings.

He knows that there are guards floating around in the dark, tasked with keeping the clan representatives safe during the night, and that they will have become aware of his presence the moment he exited the gate from the third tier. They won't let any harm come to him.

Junmin stands at the edge of the hot springs and breathes in the steam for a moment, letting it kiss his skin and ruffle the open edges of his robe gently as he loosens the waist tie. Sighing deeply, Junmin finally, finally lets himself relax completely. His scent unfurls, unhindered and free, sweet and floral and amplified by the heat of the steam. Omega. Junmin stretches his arms over his head as he lets the hot water lap at his feet, feels his spine crack satisfyingly and his ribs expand fully without his usual restrictive chest braces keeping him upright and alpha-shaped.

Shedding his robe and dropping it somewhere behind him carelessly, Junmin takes a step deeper into the water and lets out a bone-deep groan of pleasure as the water engulfs his aching feet and ankles. He can't wait to be completely submerged, to feel all the weight he carries on his shoulders lifted away, if only for a brief moment.

But then the sound is echoes by a shocked gasp, and Junmin nearly trips over, his peace shattered as absolute fright floods his entire body, still lurking just beneath the surface from his encounter with Minkyun earlier. He's not alone here. There is someone else here at the springs, someone else has seen him.

Blinking rapidly, Junmin stares around, hoping against hope that it's just one of his personal guards who have decided to follow him down from his chambers. Instead, his eyes meet crystal green across the springs, and the fright dies as fast as it came, replaced by the wild flutter of his longing heart as he says, “Xinlong,” in shock and relief, left staring at the omega who has captured his heart.

Xinlong, crouched naked and oddly stiff at the water's edge on the other side of the pool, returns Junmin's stare with wide eyes and a slack mouth. Then, before Junmin can say or do anything else, Xinlong loses his balance, his foot slipping on the wet rocks and sending him tumbling head first into the deepest end of the springs with an almighty splash. Junmin freezes where he stands as Xinlong sinks under the water like a stone, eyes fixed on the ripples and bubbles for several long seconds before a chilling thought occurs to him.

There are no open bodies of water out in the plains.

Xinlong can't swim!

With a frightened cry of Xinlong's name, Junmin wades into the springs as fast as he can, eyes fixed on the rapidly diminishing bubbles breaking the surface over the dark shape of Xinlong's struggling body. The springs are deep, and Junmin isn't tall, but he can keep his head above water and his feet on the hot stones long enough to get an arm around Xinlong's chest and haul his feebly struggling body up to the surface again. “I've got you!” he says loudly as Xinlong writhes blindly in his arms, only half-conscious and gasping raggedly as he heaves in great lungsful of air. “I've got you, I've got you, you're alright,” Junmin murmurs, towing Xinlong carefully to the edge of the pool.

Junmin isn't very strong, has never been able to pack on the muscles the way he wanted to, to keep up the alpha ruse as he got older, but he has enough strength to haul Xinlong up out of the water and onto the dry rocks surrounding the spring. The water clinging to them is streaked with something black that washes away quickly, and Junmin frowns at it, pulling himself out to sit beside Xinlong and look him over.

His chest is stuttering wildly, panic and fear preventing him from breathing properly, and he grasps at Junmin's arm with clawed hands, seeking to ground himself to something, anything. “Xinlong, Longlong,” Junmin coos gently, prising his hand off his arm and taking it in his own, lacing their fingers together. “I need you to breathe, sweetheart. You need to breathe.”

“I c-can't – can't b-breathe!” Xinlong manages to stutter out, his eyes wild behind his flickering lids. His lips are turning blue under the heated flush on his face, unable to pull enough air into his lungs. “Can't breathe,” he sobs, his usually deep voice high and reedy with fright and lack of air. “Help, I’m—”

Junmin kneels up beside him, slipping a hand under his neck and grabbing his chin with the other, turning Xinlong's face towards him as he leans down and seals their lips together. He breathes for Xinlong, helps him regulate his stuttering chest through the kiss until Xinlong starts to cling to him, breathing on his own but unwilling to let go. “You're okay,” Junmin says again, pressing his forehead to Xinlong's as Xinlong starts to cry weakly, and he pulls Xinlong up into his arms, cradles him against his chest until Xinlong is burying his face in the crook of Junmin's neck, arms wound around him so tightly he nearly brings the prince down on top of him. “I've got you.”

“I can't swim,” Xinlong cries into Junmin's neck. “I can't swim and I'm afraid of water and I thought I was going to die!”

The prince has to choke back his own little sob as he’s overwhelmed by the aching sadness and fear in Xinlong's scent, clogging his nose and filling his mouth. It's as if the entire forest is mourning with him. “Why were you even here?” he asks, trying to keep the frightened snap out of his voice. He's not angry at Xinlong, not necessarily, but he's suddenly hit by the thought of what might have happened if Junmin decided to take a bath in his chambers instead of coming down to the springs. “How did you even find this place?”

“Leo told me about the springs on the first day here,” Xinlong says, and he's starting to shake in Junmin's arms now, shivering despite the heat of the steam and the water. “I came to... I came...” and he trails off, falling strangely silent.

“Came to... what?” Junmin asks, filing the Leo thing away for later, and Xinlong shakes his head. Frowning again, Junmin puts a hand back on Xinlong's head and pulls him away slightly, trying to catch his eye even as that clear green glaze keeps sliding away, unwilling to meet his for the first time ever. Like this, the moonlight slants across Xinlong's face, and Junmin's frown deepens at the sight of him.

There's a large, angry burn marring Xinlong's entire face, the skin pink and shiny – not something that will scar, but something that must have hurt to receive. It almost looks like a scald, with the way it's splashed across his pretty features randomly, more concentrated on the right side of his face before it continues down his throat and over his chest. His right eye, in particular, is swollen and bloodshot, but seems functional.

It almost looks like someone threw boiling water in Xinlong's face, and Junmin has to repress the protective growl that threatens to start rumbling in his chest at the thought of someone purposefully hurting Xinlong. Hurting his mate.

“Xinlong, what the hell happened?” he asks, a little more demanding this time.

Squirming in Junmin's arms, suddenly feeling quite shy, Xinlong hides his face away again and quietly whispers, “She threw a jar of ashdye at me,” in a heartbreakingly small tone of voice. He sounds like he's expecting to get in trouble, as if he's the one who caused the issue, not whoever assaulted him. “The dye is acidic in its raw form; as a liquid, it’ll burn your skin right off if you don't treat it right. I had to wash it off as fast as I could.”

Junmin curses quietly, already knows who’s responsible for this – jars of raw Night's Kiss are rare outside the Keep's textile chambers, only a few select families have access to a private stock of it. The royal family is one, obviously. But he knows that Minkyun's father owns several wooden jars of the precious dye; and what Minkyun has, so too does his little sister, Minhee.

He’ll deal with her later, once he's got the full story out of Xinlong.

“Why didn't you use the communal bathroom in the Pavilion?” he asks desperately. “Surely that must have been closer than the hot springs?”

Already shaking his head, Xinlong says, “Don't feel safe there. They stare at me, they're always watching me. Always talking, talking, talking...”

“Behind your back?”

“Right in front of me. They don't care if their words hurt. No.” Xinlong's frown is so pronounced, Junmin can feel the shift of his brow against his collarbone, soon followed by the hot trickle of more tears. “They want their words to hurt.” His hands curl around Junmin's arm, holds it tighter to his chest, the tiniest, sputtering purr trying to start up. “So I came here. I tried to stay out of the water as much as I could, only went in enough to wash the dye in. Didn't mean to fall in...”

Junmin realises now what happened – his presence had startled Xinlong. “Oh. It's my fault you fell in. I'm so sorry, Xinlong.” His heart starts to pound, the heavy sound of it rushing in his ears. He'd startled Xinlong; the sight of him had shocked Xinlong enough to knock him off balance, because Xinlong had seen.

He knows Junmin's most closely guarded secret.

“You didn't do it on purpose,” Xinlong mutters, giving Junmin a little admonishing pinch on the arm. “I'm the one who can't keep my own balance.” He sighs then, presses in a little closer against Junmin, practically sitting in his lap now. “You smell so good like this,” he breathes, his nose gently brushing the elegant curve of Junmin's neck.

“Like what?” Junmin asks, voice cracking on his own nerves.

“Unrestrained,” is Xinlong's reply. “It's like I can really catch your scent for the first time.” He moves his face in even more, nuzzling into Junmin's neck from brow bone to the curve of his lips, placing a delicate kiss just shy of one of his scent glands. “My prince. My beautiful omega prince.”

Junmin feels like he's been clapped over the head, hearing Xinlong say it out loud. He closes his eyes against the onslaught of overwhelming emotions and wraps his arms tightly around Xinlong, his own face pressed to the top of his head, the wet strands of wine red hair clinging to his pale skin. “Please don't be upset with me,” he begs. “I'm not allowed to tell anyone. I've never been allowed to tell anyone. No one is supposed to know.”

Arms snaking around Junmin's waist, Xinlong's fingers press into the dips of his spine, soothing and comforting all at once, his own scent curling around the prince protectively. “Never, I would never betray your trust, Junmin. You have my word.”

And he does; Junmin trusts Xinlong implicitly, just like he told Leo that night in his great grandmother's apple orchard. “Are you mad?” Junmin asks, still keeping his face tucked against the top of Xinlong's head, afraid of seeing the blossoming love in his eyes die when he realises that Junmin is not the alpha mate that was promised. “If you decide you don't... don't want me, now that you know–”

“What are you talking about?” Xinlong says, tugging his head out from under Junmin's and finally meeting the prince's eye, longing defiance in every inch of his face. “I have never once wanted an alpha mate in my entire life.” He brings a hand up, brushes a tender thumb over the high curve of Junmin's cheekbone. “I thought I was going insane for falling in love with you, like some part of me I've known my whole life had suddenly died.”

Junmin can't help it. He buries a hand in Xinlong's hair and kisses him again, properly this time.

This time, Xinlong actively returns it.

ᓚᘏᗢ

The chill in the air gets to them eventually, not even the hot steam from the springs enough to keep them from it when they're out of the water, still trading exploratory kisses at the water's edge. When Xinlong starts shivering so badly their teeth clack together, Junmin finally pulls back from his soft, sweet mouth, however reluctantly, and says, “Do you want to come and have a proper bath? With... maybe with me?”

Xinlong's whole face lights up, and he nods, a pink blush crawling under the ashdye burn on his face and his sweet mouth curling up at the corners. Even in human form, he looks so much like a cat, with his gorgeous feline eyes and the catlike curve of his lips. He's so unbelievably attractive, Junmin can't quite believe that he was even eligible to take part in the Trial, that no one has ever asked to court him before.

“Here, let me help you up,” Junmin says, and does just that, helping Xinlong to his feet, stealing another few kisses in the process. “I only brought one robe down, so unless you feel like going on a naked stroll through the tiers, I suggest we shift.”

They don't have to hide behind attendants and fabric this time, Junmin merely leads Xinlong a safe distance away from the hot springs and then they assume their catskins, eyes fixed on one another as they do. Considering how important it clearly is that Junmin keeps his gender a secret, Xinlong is amazed the prince had even shifted in front of him the other day; now that he knows what he's looking at, it's clear that Junmin is an omega. His catskin is slim and lithe, the perfect hunting machine, with a narrow chest and high belly arch, an elegant black tail, and his scent is so strong now it's almost intoxicating. Xinlong loves every inch and part of him.

The moment he's fully shifted, Xinlong immediately pads up to Junmin and rubs his whole body along the prince's until he can nuzzle their heads together. Now I know why you're so short, he teases lightly, and Junmin gapes at him, affronted.

You brat, he gasps, and bites the tip of Xinlong's ear playfully.

Your brat, Xinlong replies, and then saunters away with his tail swishing in the air. He pauses just long enough to glance at Junmin over his shoulder, green eyes glowing and his muzzle lowered invitingly. Aren't you coming? Or are you going to let me get lost?

Junmin bounds after him with far more energy than the night should allow, nose filled with the cloying scent of sun-baked wood and fresh greenery.

Together, they slink up the outer paths of the Keep, circling around one another, testing the new boundaries presented to them by this sudden revelation. Omegas interact with each other differently to how they interact with alphas, and it’s a ritual that Junmin has only ever been allowed to experience in tiny doses with Sangwon, behind closed doors and out of sight of either of his parents. Doing it now, with some gentle coaching from Xinlong, feels insanely freeing, not having to posture and puff himself up or put on the airs and graces of an alpha prince.

Xinlong is so soft against him, purring and mewling gently as he encourages Junmin to let his scent out more, to lean into the need for physical touch that all omegas have, to return Xinlong's warm affections with some of his own. It takes them a lot longer to reach the seventh tier than it ordinarily would, especially when they keep ending up rolling around in the grass together, purring loudly and grooming each other with increasingly intimate licks and nuzzles.

When they do finally make it to the top of the Keep, Junmin leads him through one of the staff tunnels – deeming it necessary this time, a security measure to keep Xinlong away from his mother's authoritative eye – and they step out from behind the large tapestry that is right near Junmin's chambers.

We have to be as quiet as possible, Junmin whispers, padding silently down the corridor. Don't wanna wake anyone up. I'm not supposed to bring people up here, and you're not supposed to be here at all.

Xinlong gives him a resolute nod and does as he's told, paws whispering over the stones until they're safely ensconced in Junmin's room.

Junmin noses his wardrobe open and pulls out two robes with his teeth, draping them over Xinlong's back with a quiet laugh. Normally Sangwon does this for me, but I'm sure I can draw us a bath on my own, he says, and heads for the bath chamber with Xinlong following along at a much slower pace, the other omega glancing around and sniffing at everything curiously. Junmin sees the exact moment Xinlong notices the other door in the room, and the moment Xinlong realises who is behind it.

What he's not expecting is the question that follows after.

Yunseo isn't your ward, is he? Xinlong asks him in a tender voice, butting his head gently against Junmin's back thigh. He's your kitten. When Junmin nods silently, Xinlong's ears twitch. You know, I was almost afraid to find out who his mother was. I never wanted to step on anyone's toes or make someone think I was trying to usurp their kitten. Now, I'm so happy I can barely contain it.

Junmin knows there's more that can be said, more that should be said when it comes to Yunseo, but that can wait. It can all wait. Right now, he wants to take care of Xinlong and get to the bottom of what happened to him earlier in the night. He shifts out of his fur and potters around the bath chamber, opening the four spigots along the wall to fill the large basin carved right into the stone floor, big enough that he could bathe in his catskin if he wanted to, but difficult to fill without his opposable thumbs. There are towels in a small wooden cupboard – cold, which Junmin isn't used to because Sangwon usually heats them by the fire for him, but he can live without warm towels for once – and he takes the robes from Xinlong’s back to hang on silver hooks by the cupboard. As he's pulling out glass bottles of soap and bath oils, he hears Xinlong shift behind him, and lets out a warm breath when a pair of golden arms gently wrap around him from behind.

Black-stained hands find a home on Junmin’s belly, gently exploring the white lightning bolt marks marring his pale skin as Xinlong cuddles up close against his back, his cheek resting on Junmin's shoulder. “I just want you to know, you don't have to tell me anything,” Xinlong murmurs, his words ghosting over Junmin's scent gland. “I'll listen to anything you have to say, but there's no pressure. I won't ask you anything, and you're not obligated to share. These are your secrets, Junmin.”

“Thank you,” Junmin breathes, leaning back into Xinlong's hold with a satisfied hum. “One day, I will tell you everything. But probably not tonight. Not for a long time, if I'm honest. Some of it is so easy, but the rest of it...”

“Complicated?”

Junmin snorts. “Something like that.” Then, he starts to tug Xinlong towards the bath, the water slowly filling up. As Junmin uncaps the bottle of oil in his hand, he says, “Like this, for instance. This is my favourite scent. I hardly ever use it because it's so precious to me, and there isn’t much of it left, but I want to share it with you.” And he upends the tiny vial, the green glass shining like emeralds in the low light of the lanterns around the room. Pale golden oil drips into the bath, and both omegas breathe in deeply as the toasty scent of almonds and vanilla starts to waft off the steaming water.

“It reminds me of Yunseo,” Xinlong carefully says, then says nothing more, earning him a tiny, secret smile from Junmin, who turns in the circle of his arms to cup his face, bringing him in for another kiss.

When the prince pulls away, he takes Xinlong's hands in his own and starts to draw him into the bath. “Keep your eyes on me, Longlong,” he says. “It's not very deep, and I promise not to let anything happen to you. I won't let go of you.” He rubs his thumbs over the backs of Xinlong's hands. “I just want to help you get warm, and properly clean.”

“I trust you,” Xinlong says, and takes a deep, steeling breath, stepping into the shallow bathwater with a brave set to his jaw. He’s still shaken from falling into the springs, but Junmin is right – the water barely reaches his hips once they're standing in the deepest part, and when Junmin slowly sinks down to sit on a stone ledge carved into the wall, he brings Xinlong down to sit on his lap, keeping his head well above the surface. “It's not so bad like this,” he says idly, resting back in Junmin's arms and closing his eyes as the prince pours warm water over him with an ornate shell, purring lightly.

Junmin kisses his cheek. “I thought you might like it better this way,” he teases, setting the shell aside and reaching for some soap. It's one of the special scentless bars that he usually reserves for his heats, but seems appropriate to use right now. It takes on the blend of their scents as he lathers it up on Xinlong's skin, carefully washing away the last grey streaks of ashdye still clinging to the other omega until Xinlong is completely clean. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks quietly, pulling at Xinlong slightly to turn him sideways, letting them both settle against each other more comfortably in the warm water. “With Minhee and the dye?”

For a moment, Xinlong is quiet, and just as Junmin is about to repeat Xinlong's heartfelt words from earlier, he sucks in a breath through his teeth and opens his mouth. And Junmin sees red the longer he talks. He knew vaguely from Sangwon that the majority of the other clan representatives were unfriendly to Xinlong, in the sense that they believed him to be lesser simply because of where he was from, but he had no idea just how ostrasicing they were – how they bullied him, abused him with their words. Junmin has heard some of the rumours about the promiscuity of the plains tribes, but had never believed them. There are staff members here in the Keep who grew up in the plains, who have taken it upon themselves to set naive royals and nobles straight when it comes to who they are and where they came from.

But to hear what Minhee has done, how her personal vendetta against Xinlong has grown so volatile in less than a week that she has escalated to physical violence... Junmin is furious. In his head, he's already drafting a hundred missives to have her removed from the Trial and punished for assaulting Xinlong in what could have been an extremely harmful – if not outright deadly – way. He knew she was immature and as bizarrely possessive over Junmin as her brother is with half the reasons to be, but he didn't realise it was this bad.

“Hey, stop it,” Xinlong says suddenly, slipping his hands around the back of Junmin's neck and pressing their foreheads together. “You’re growling, my prince. That's not very polite of you.”

And, yes, Junmin is growling, the sound echoing around the bath chamber, rumbling from the depths of his chest. “She could have blinded you,” he says, surly and mad. “She could have killed you, permanently burned you—”

“Junmin, I know better than anyone how bad it could have been,” Xinlong says gently, kissing the tip of Junmin's nose. “Believe me, it could have been horrifying, and I hope they managed to clean Haneum's feet before he suffered any lasting damage. But she's just a stupid little kid, she didn't know what she was doing.”

“Don't defend her,” Junmin growls. “She and her brother are both nasty pieces of work. Even if she didn't know how badly the ashdye could have hurt you, it's a punishable offence to waste the Night’s Kiss in such a way. It's one of the most valuable assets we have here at the Keep.”

Xinlong squirms in his lap, sitting back slightly and putting his hands on Junmin's shoulders. “Ever since I got here, people have been saying things like that. That the ashdye is important, that it's valuable, that I don't deserve to wear clothes in that colour or ‘paint my hands' with it. They wouldn't even believe my hands are stained with it, that I make the dye. What does that even mean?”

Junmin blinks at him. “Xinlong, have you never seen the crest of the shifter kingdom? Or any of the flags flying from the Keep?” he asks incredulously. When Xinlong shakes his head, Junmin says, “Xinlong. The Night's Kiss is the colour of the royal family; it's been used in the Keep to signify the kings and queens for generations.” He grins, picks up one of Xinlong's hands and kisses his palm. “Your skin is stained with a royal legacy, Xinlong. A shaman would probably say that it’s fate you would become the royal consort.”

“What?” Xinlong gapes at the prince. “It- No, that doesn't make any sense – and I’m nothing of the sort! Not yet!” He shakes his head rapidly. “If it's worth so much here in the Keep, why do we live in poverty out in the plains? Why do my people sacrifice our health, our lives, to make something that we have to trade away for food and shelter?” He pouts, bottom lip starting to wobble. “They said... they said the dye is made here in the Keep. They don't even know the one thing my people contribute to this kingdom, which is apparently so important that a bratty little girl nearly blinded me over it!”

He's starting to get angry, his scent turning hard and brittle like fired stone, and Junmin can understand why. “Xinlong, until I met you, even I didn't know the dye was made outside the Keep; I only knew that the raw materials originated in the plains. I swear to you, I'm going to find out what's going on, why your people have been left to suffer for so long when they provide one of the most important services to this kingdom. I swear. Once I take my father's throne, your people will be recognised for their art, and for their sacrifice.”

“Do you really mean that?” Xinlong asks, fragile and hopeful.

“I really mean that.”

It's enough to break through Xinlong's budding anger, a breathtaking smile spreading across his face, and he presses that smile to Junmin's lips in a searing kiss, the water sloshing around them as he shifts in the prince's lap, practically straddling him in his eagerness. “That's all I want,” he pants between kisses. “That's all an artist could ever want.”

Junmin grins into the kiss, moaning lightly when Xinlong deepens it further, heat and arousal starting to build dangerously between them. With Xinlong's hand still in his grip, he brings it to his mouth and, when Xinlong pauses to take a breath, he slips two of the omega's black-stained fingers into his mouth, sucking gently and leaving a neat little kiss on the tips, blue eyes twinkling as he watches Xinlong's brain stop functioning for a moment, kiss-pink lips parted and his green eyes wide and hungry.

“If you're not careful, I'm going to break every single rule of the Mate Trial tonight,” Junmin says, voice low and laced with heat. He reels Xinlong in with a hand on the curve of his waist and kisses that pretty slack expression off his face, letting both his hands drop to the soft skin of Xinlong's thighs, caressing and stroking gently to encourage him closer, deeper into Junmin's grip.

Xinlong is so receptive to his touch in his inexperience, trusting Junmin completely to lead and direct him into a slow downward roll of his hips, the hot water and sweat slicking their skins as they entwine completely, until their combined scents overpower even the scented oils in the bath. Until there's more than water and sweat slicking between them. He moans, soft and quiet, fingers buried in the black strands of Junmin's hair, starting to find a rhythm, starting to find a little confidence as he tilts the prince's head back and takes over the kiss with a little possessive growl.

Hands digging into the strong muscle of Xinlong's thigh and the defined bone of his hip, Junmin is more than content to have his mouth dominated, sinking deeper against the wall as Xinlong bares down on top of him. It's been years since he was last this intimate with someone, since he let himself be loved and held by someone, and Junmin’s entire body comes to life with the onslaught of physical and emotional feelings, every nerve alight with tiny fires. Golden sparks go off behind his eyelids as Xinlong tugs at his hair, pulls him into a more favourable position, tongue spilling over his lips until all Junmin can taste is sunshine.

His world narrows down to the simplest of sensations – wet, heat, hard, soft, sweet, mine.

And when Xinlong breaks the kiss just long enough to purr, “Maybe you should learn to break a few rules,” in his ear, Junmin decides to do just that.

ᓚᘏᗢ

In the silver hours of the morning, Xinlong is woken by a strange sound.

It takes him quite a while to swim up to that hazy, almost-consciousness of being nearly awake, and he finds himself tangled so completely with Junmin on the prince's bed that the only reason he can tell where his body ends and Junmin's begins is by the different shades of their skin, golden tan wrapped up with pale cream. The bed is more comfortable than even the one down in the Rose Pavilion, calling him desperately back to the land of sleep with his head pillowed on Junmin's shoulder, a thick woollen blanket partially over their naked bodies.

The sound comes again, and Xinlong picks his head up, green eyes squinting around in the half-dark of very early morning. When it comes a third time, he moves on instinct, dragging himself from Junmin's arms before his brain has caught up to his body, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Distressed kitten, his inner omega is screaming as he absently picks up one of their discarded robes and drapes it around himself, silently crossing the large bed chamber to the nondescript door in the corner where those tiny, pitiful cries are echoing from, totally oblivious to the slight lilt in his step.

Xinlong pushes the door open with nary a squeak of the hinges and has to squint again against the colourful lights spilling from the ornate glass lantern, his gaze landing on the small figure huddled on the bed against the wall. “Yunseo,” he croaks out, voice thick and raw from sleep and... other things. “What's wrong, little one?”

The kitten is curled in his blanket like the soft felt is a shield, half-shifted and crying weakly, trying to muffle his sobs in his bent knees. “L-Longlong?” he warbles, little voice wet and frightened as those golden eyes flick up to his face. Yunseo stares at him for a moment as if he's sure he's imagining Xinlong standing before him. “I had a bad dream,” he finally says, and he sounds so afraid that Xinlong immediately crosses the room and scoops the kitten into his arms blanket and all, holding Yunseo against his chest with a soothing purr.

“You poor thing,” Xinlong murmurs gently, letting Yunseo crush in against him like he's the kitten's last lifeline. “I've got you now, nothing can hurt you.” Swaying on the spot for a few moments, Xinlong hums into Yunseo's ear until he shifts fully human again, little fingers grabbing at Xinlong's robe instead of claws. It's an old lullabye that Halmoni used to sing to Xinlong when he was a kitten, when he would wake in the middle of the night screaming for parents who could never come rushing to comfort him again. It has the same effect on Yunseo as it did back then, the kitten falling limp and calm against Xinlong, breaths evening out until he's no longer crying. “It's alright, Yunseo. Dreams can be frightening, but they can never hurt us.”

Yunseo nods. “I know. Mama says that too. But they feel so real, and I get scared anyway.” He nuzzles his face against Xinlong's throat, scenting him in the clumsy way kittens do, letting out too much of his toasty, nutty scent and basking in Xinlong's own warmth and sunshine until he's purring and scent drunk. “I'm so happy you're here. I miss you when you have to go.”

“I'm not going anywhere tonight,” Xinlong promises, dropping a kiss to the top of Yunseo's head, nose brushing the edge of the blanket still hooding his little face. “How about we go back and sleep in your mama's bed where it's nice and warm?” he offers quietly, and Yunseo nods, already starting to fall asleep again now that he's been soothed and comforted. “Come on, do you want to bring your bear?” He can see it on the floor by the bed, either kicked or thrown out in the midst of Yunseo's nightmare, and the kitten reaches for it with a sleepy hand and a tired whine. Xinlong crouches down to pick it up with a tiny wince as his back and hips twinge, which morphs into a fond smile as Yunseo grabs it from him with a small squeak, tucking the bear in close.

Xinlong blows out the candles keeping the glass lantern burning and closes the door to Yunseo's room as he walks through it, the kitten held securely on his hip as he approaches Junmin's bed again, acting solely on the instinct to nest the entire family together in one place. As he nears the bed, with its gauzy curtains and soft sheets, he finds sleepy blue eyes peering up at him from the pillows and blankets. Junmin looks so cute all rumpled and pink-cheeked from sleep.

“Where'd you go?” he slurs out, and Xinlong gently deposits Yunseo on the bed, watches with his heart caught in his throat from sheer affection as the kitten scrambles across the mattress into Junmin's side. “Oh, hey, baby,” Junmin whispers, not even question his kitten's sudden presence, just pulling him in and bundling him up in the small felt blanket, arms wrapping around him securely. “Bad dreams again?”

Climbing in behind Yunseo, Xinlong grabs the thick woollen blanket and pulls it up over himself and Junmin, keeping Yunseo ensconced between them as the two omegas settle into each other once again, feet tangling as Xinlong drapes an arm over Junmin and Yunseo both. He and Junmin share a pillow, share a kiss and the same breath, and Junmin curls in tighter against Xinlong, the blanket slipping slightly until the dark bruises bitten into his shoulder are visible. Xinlong tucks him in again with a quiet chuckle, and Junmin flashes a sleepy grin at him before turning his attention to Yunseo.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks, and Yunseo nods against his chest. Junmin cards his fingers through Yunseo's hair and quietly encourages him to speak.

“They took me away from you,” Yunseo mumbles, “and kept me far away where I couldn't find you again.”

Xinlong closes his eyes tightly against the memories and echoes of his own similar nightmares from his childhood, and focuses instead on letting out calming wafts of his scent, finding Junmin doing the same until the entire bed is blanketed in the warm pheromones of two maternal omegas trying to soothe a distressed kitten. It works well, Yunseo already half asleep between them even as Junmin quietly reassures him that he would never let that happen, would fight tooth and claw to keep Yunseo by his side, forever. “And now you have Longlong, too,” Junmin continues, glancing up to catch Xinlong's eye, his expression raw and hopeful. “And he won't let anything happen to you either.”

No, Xinlong thinks. No I won't. I won't let anything happen to either of you.

“And we'll both look after Longlong, right, mama?” Yunseo says around a yawn that makes his jaw creak.

“That's right,” Junmin confirms, still holding Xinlong's gaze. “Because he's ours now. And we protect what's ours.”

It makes a low heat fill Xinlong, not quite bubbling into arousal, not after the night they've already had, but it's warm and all-encompassing nonetheless, and he tilts his head forward on the pillow to give Junmin a tired kiss filled with all the words he can't say out loud yet.

They have a long way to go before anything can be official, both personally and traditionally, with the grounds of the Mate Trial still to be trod and histories that still need to be understood. But, like this, in the calm whispers of morning's first light, tangled together in a warm bed with a sleeping kitten held safely in their arms, that's enough for Junmin and Xinlong for this one day, this one moment. A glimpse into the future they might possibly be allowed to create together.

In the morning, Junmin has work to do – he has Minhee to deal with, and an investigation to start – but for now, he is content, feeling safer and more secure in his own skin than he can ever remember being. Not even being with Donggyu had ever felt like this, too much secrecy hanging over their heads to ever truly relax, and Junmin finds that, for once, the unknown doesn't fill him with dread. As he drifts off again, wrapped up with his kitten and the omega he'd like to call his mate one day, he is totally at peace – with the world and with himself.

The notion of fated mates might be nothing more than an ancient superstition, but this could almost be enough to make Junmin a believer.