Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’m being given as a peace offering?!” Dokja asked incredulously, staring at the ministers who refuse to meet his gaze. Though he is a ger, none of the men in front of him dare to underestimate him, and it shows when they flinch as he steps towards them. “Does my mother know about this?” His mother, the Empress, is notoriously protective of him even if they rarely interact. No one has ever forgotten the way she cut her own husband down for laying a hand on Dokja and taking the throne by force. 

“Yes.” One of the ministers speaks up. “She has already given her approval.” A servant comes up to Dokja and hands him a document. To his shock, he can see the Royal Seal at the bottom, next to his mother’s signature. 

Dokja suppresses the urge to tear the paper up. “Let me see her.” He demands. There’s betrayal running through him, though his mother may have been harsh to him while he was growing up, she never truly forced him to do anything that would cause him distress. 

A guard speaks up at that moment, lowering his head deferentially. “The Empress is currently commanding the army and cannot be reached for an indefinite amount of time.” Dokja wants to start cursing and breaking everything around him. It’s only the touch of his personal guard, Jung Heewon, that stops him. 

“Your Highness,” she says, “restraint.” Dokja takes deep breaths and nods to her in thanks. 

“When do I leave?” He can’t quite control the snarl in his tone, but he doesn’t care anymore. He’s about to become one of the many wives of a damn Crown Prince, if any of the ministers even try to have a problem with his attitude, he’ll gladly take the opportunity to release his anger. 

Unfortunately for him, they’re wise enough to let it be. “In a week’s time, Your Highness.” Dokja turns around and leaves the room, Heewon following behind him faithfully.  

“If I have to stay inside there with them for even a second more, I’ll lose it.” He says to her, marching towards the library. It’s the place in the palace he frequents the most, and it never fails to calm him down when he gets moody. 

Heewon laughs. “I would pay to see the looks on their faces if you get angry enough to pull your blade from your robes.” Dokja snorts, patting the left side of his chest and taking comfort in the solid sheathe he feels hidden away. 

“They’re not worthy of it.” Dokja says. “Mother always told me to only use it in self-defense anyways. If I pulled it out every time I felt like hitting someone, I would have lost the element of surprise already.” They enter the library and he waves off the servants that come forward to aid him.  

“So, which country was it?” Dokja asks. “I was too angry to look at the treaty properly.” Heewon shakes her head at him and leads him over to a large bookshelf. 

“If I remember correctly,” she says, running her hand over the spines of the books, “it should have been Murim.” Finding what she was looking for, Heewon takes out a record of the nation, handing it to Dokja as they walk to a corner of the library. 

“I should have guessed.” He opens the book up and starts reading. “Remind me to get someone to tutor me about the court mannerisms and politics later. If I’m going to be married off, I’m going to be the best damn arranged partner that bastard has.” 

“You’ve never even met the Crown Prince.” Heewon chides him. “So maybe he isn’t such a bad person.” 

Dokja sends her a dry look. “Yes, I haven’t met him before. And yet we’re getting married in a week’s time. If I want to call him a bastard, I will.” Heewon stops trying to argue with him and sits down, patiently waiting for him to finish. 

“...Do you really think my mother actually approved?” Dokja asks after a pause. “It just doesn’t feel right. Even if we were on the verge of destruction, she would never force something like this on me.” 

Heewon carefully looks around to make sure they’re alone before answering. “If you want my honest answer: No, I don’t believe the Empress would marry you off without your consent. If there’s one thing she still loves in this life, it’s you.”  

“But,” she continues quietly, “the Empress is off leading the war and we cannot contact her. All we can do is obey the ministers.” Dokja narrows his eyes, grip crinkling the pages of the book. The ministers were usually well-behaved under the iron control of Empress Sookyung, but the moment she left in a battle where her life wasn’t guaranteed, they immediately started pushing their own agendas. 

“Where Mother gets back, she’ll kill them all.” Dokja says, a gleam in his eyes. “I only wish I could be there to see it.” 

Chapter Text

Over the course of the week, Dokja diligently studied with his tutor, Heewon keeping watch over him. He ignored any ministers who tried to ‘advise’ him on how he should conduct himself with his fiancé. If he heard one more old man tell him to make sure to be subservient to his husband and obey his every word, he would cut off what made them a man.

On the day of his departure, Dokja was sent off with much fanfare. All the citizens knew was that this marriage of their Prince to Crown Prince Jonghyuk assured their small nation of an ally that boasted much military strength. The ministers personally escorted him onto an intricate carriage fortified with durable frames along with a guard of four, including Heewon, who would be the only one to stay with him.

The journey was smooth, if a little boring. Heewon was worried about being ambushed, but surprisingly, it seems the ministers properly did their jobs and kept the route Dokja was taking secret. They stopped along towns to rest and it took a week before the carriage arrived inside the Empire of Murim.

As they rolled up to the gates of the Imperial Palace, a guard waiting in the front stepped forward. “Prince Dokja?” He asked, tall and imposing with a gentle face. When the driver handed him a scroll with the Royal Seal on it, the guard nodded and opened the door, holding his hand out for Dokja.

Dokja suppressed the urge to sigh, even if he knew the guard was simply doing their job. It was literally just two steps to get onto the ground, but Dokja was still considered a ‘delicate’ ger who would break if a small breeze blew at him. Heewon nudged his back and he shifted his face into a genial smile. “Much obliged,” he said to the guard. As they walked into the Palace, Heewon trailing behind them, Dokja continued to make conversation with the guard.

“What’s your name?” Dokja asked curiously.

“Lee Hyunsung,” he said. “I’m one of Crown Prince Jonghyuk’s personal guards and he sent me to greet you.”

Dokja hummed. “Where is the Crown Prince?”

“On the training grounds.” Hyunsung answered dutifully. “He’s currently supervising the new recruits.” Hyunsung paused for a moment before hesitantly saying, “Crown Prince Jonghyuk has a very… honest personality. I hope Your Highness won’t take offense to it.”

Dokja raised his eyebrow. He exchanged a glance with Heewon. Isn‘t this just a vague way of saying he’s a bastard? Dokja stared at her smugly.

Heewon rolled her eyes at him. Answer the poor man. Dokja turned to Hyunsung, “Of course. I like to think I’m quite good with difficult people.” The guard choked a little and looked flustered. It made Dokja want to tease him more.

Unfortunately, they reached the training grounds and Dokja decided to do it another time. He could see a tall man standing in front, watching the soldiers swinging their swords methodically.

‘Well,’ Dokja thought. ‘All the rumors of his looks were definitely true.’ Yoo Jonghyuk was, by far, the most attractive man Dokja had ever seen.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and tanned with scars all along the skin Dokja could see. He had strong eyebrows above intense silver eyes, high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and artfully tousled hair. And by god, his muscles – the shirt he was wearing hugged them tightly and exposed them to Dokja’s very appreciative eyes.

Heewon coughed quietly and Dokja finally took his stare off his fiancé’s body. Hyunsung stood next to Jonghyuk and got his attention, “Your Highness.”

Jonghyuk glanced over and their eyes met. There was no spark of love that suddenly came into being, instead, Jonghyuk’s look became cold. He dismissed Hyunsung and addressed Dokja. “Kim Dokja, I will never love you. This marriage is of political value to me. Do not expect more.”

Dokja could practically feel his eye twitch. ‘What a waste of a good face with such a shitty personality,’ he lamented.

If this man thought Dokja would cower at his dismissive and pompous attitude, he had another thing coming.

He sent Jonghyuk a smile, sharp and sweet. “Of course, my dear fiancé. It’s not as if I expected much from you in the first place.” Dokja ignored his frown and turned to Hyunsung.

“Hyunsung-ssi,” he called. “Could you lead me to my room?” The guard nodded and led him away, sending nervous looks behind his back as they exited the training grounds.

Heewon walked next to him and leaned over. “You were right.”

Dokja scoffed. “Of course I was. Besides, did you really disagree with me in the first place?” She shrugged, ignoring the looks other servants sent her at the brazen attitude she took with her master.

“I’ll stay out of his way as long as he stays out of mine.” Dokja said, nodding in thanks as Hyunsung stopped in front of a door.

“I assume Heewon will be staying close by?” He asked.

Hyunsung said, “Yes. As your personal guard, Heewon-ssi will be placed in the room next door.” He bowed. “Then, I’ll be going back to my other responsibilities now.”

Dokja smiled at him. “Thank you for taking the time to lead us around, Hyunsung-ssi.”

The man shook his head. “I was simply doing my duty, Your Highness.” Dokja watched him march away, gait steady and orderly.

Heewon followed him in and closed the door behind her. “Well, the room is definitely fit for the future Empress.” He could probably fit 20 people in here and still stand with at least a foot’s distance from each other. It was lavish and filled to the brim with expensive furniture. There was even a marble balcony lightly covered with vines overseeing the Royal Gardens.

Dokja sat down on the bed, feeling it sink under his weight. “Wow, just this bed is worth coming all the way here.”

He turned serious. “Speaking of, we only have to survive until my mother comes back.”

“But it could take months or years.” Heewon said. “Even in the weeks leading up to our departure, the ministers kept telling us the same thing – the Empress cannot be reached.”

Dokja sighed. “I know. We can’t trust those greedy old men – hell, we probably won’t be able to trust the people here, but we must make the most of what we’ve been given.”

Chapter Text

“I’m so bored, Heewon!” Dokja complained, upside down on his bed. It had been a week since he arrived and aside from the required lessons of learning Murim’s politics and economic situation – which he already got someone to teach him, really, did they think he was that dull? – Dokja was generally left to his own devices.

He couldn’t even tease Lee Hyunsung, since he was part of Jonghyuk’s personal guard, and Dokja did not want anything to do with that man at the moment. The first impression was horrible and Dokja could tell their married life would be a continuous test of his patience.

Heewon sat in his chair and yawned, having heard Dokja’s tantrum at least three separate times already. “Just explore.” She said, chin in her hand. The sunlight shone into her eyes and she narrowed them in annoyance.

“But the servants keep staring at me.” He whined. “Like, yes, I understand that I’m a foreign ger sent here to marry their Crown Prince and, yes, I’m well aware it is purely political and he does not love me – but do they have to keep whispering?”

“Then punish them.” Heewon said. “You’re the future Empress, whether you have Crown Prince Jonghyuk’s favor or not, you are the Moon of the Empire and it is within your divine right.” Dokja stuck his tongue out at the words, he always hated when people said it was ‘fate’ that led rulers into deluding themselves to be mortals above mortals.

If fate truly brought divinity, then his father, may his soul rot in hell, would never have been able to even step foot into Seoul’s throne room.

Dokja sat up when blood rushed into his head. “We’ll burn that bridge when we get there. Now’s probably not the best time to earn the ire of the servants when I only hold the position and none of the actual power that comes with it.”

He clapped his hands. “Let’s go look at the library. It’s not as extensive as Seoul’s, but maybe there’ll be new books I haven’t read!” Heewon stood up and stretched, attaching her sword back to her hip and gesturing for Dokja to move.

“We’re burning daylight, Your Highness.”

Dokja grinned at her. “I could technically punish you for disrespecting me. It’s apparently within my ‘divine right’, as you said.”

Heewon scoffed. “Just try it. We grew up together and I already have Empress Sookyung’s permission to wipe the floor with you when your ego starts inflating.”

“Honestly, it’s like mother would rather have had you as her child instead.” Dokja said, trying to remember the directions Hyunsung told him. He internally shrugged, he could just knock off exploration along with reading in one go.

Heewon looked like she already knew they were lost, but decided to give Dokja face and not say a word. “That’s because she knows I’m the only one who can control you.”

They stopped in front of a dead-end and Dokja blatantly ignored Heewon’s judging look, backtracking and going in the opposite direction. “Where are all the servants?” Dokja wondered out-loud. He was tired of seeing the same portraits and paintings hung on marble and quart walls and would rather ask for help.

This palace was really unnecessarily lavish. It certainly shoved it in one’s face that Murim was one of the most powerful empires, that’s for sure.

“Who knows?” Heewon crossed her arms behind her head. “Trying to avoid looking at your face?”

Dokja rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth to retort to her when he turned the corner and ran into an unfairly hard chest. “Ugh.” He uttered, holding his nose and glaring up at the person he didn’t want to see at the moment.

“Your Highness.” He gave a short bow. Well, he could always appreciate a good-looking face, even if it was currently scowling at him. At least Hyunsung was also here, standing behind Jonghyuk and waving at him shyly. “Hyunsung-ssi!” Dokja was much happier to see him.

“Perfect timing!” He side-stepped past Jonghyuk and beamed up at the guard, reaching a hand out to place it on his toned arm. He resisted the urge to further test how firm it was. “Could you lead Heewon and I to the library?”

Hyunsung looked flustered, eyes darting between Dokja and Jonghyuk. Dokja could see the battle warring inside of him – to obey or not to obey his future Empress?

“Of course,” Dokja decided to ease off him. “Only if His Highness gives you permission.”

Jonghyuk glanced at him. “You are lost inside of the palace?” Dokja nodded and he frowned. “Memorize the layout soon. The future Empress should not be seen in a daze inside his own home. It isn’t that difficult.”

God, Dokja wanted to just – anyways. Would it kill him to say something without sounding so patronizing? “I’ll get on it right away, my dear fiancé.” His voice was so sickly sweet that Dokja could see Heewon gagging from the corner of his eye.

Jonghyuk waved Hyunsung off and they spilt away from him. “I thought I could remember everything you said, but everywhere just looks the same.” Dokja lamented.

Hyunsung let out a small laugh. “The entire palace was designed by the same person, so it’s not a surprise. If you would like, I could get someone to show you around?” Dokja tilted his head to think about it but ultimately rejected.

“It’s more fun to walk around on my own. Besides, I’ll have Heewon with me and she has a much better memory.” He grinned at her and she gave him a lazy salute.

Hyunsung looked at them curiously. “I’ve never seen a guard so close to their master before… you two are quite free with each other.”

“That’s because the Empress and my mother were best friends.” Heewon said. “And when she died, the Empress took me in and raised me alongside Dokja.”

Dokja added, “Mother was willing to formally name Heewon as her ward, but Heewon rejected and just asked to be my guard. I suppose she just couldn’t resist my charms.” He winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Ah, yes. Having to deal with the fallout of your actions just enticed me so much I couldn’t stay away.” Heewon’s voice was flat. Hyunsung laughed, relaxing next to Dokja. He didn’t look so nervous and careful anymore and Heewon sent him a thumbs up in victory.

They finally arrived at the doors of the library and Hyunsung asked, “Should I accompany Your Highness inside?”

Dokja shook his head. “No, you’ve done plenty. Go back to the Crown Prince.” Hyunsung bowed. “Thank you, Hyunsung-ssi.” The guard left and Heewon leaned over.

“He’s very kind.” She murmured into his ear, keeping her volume low to not disturb the others sitting at the tables.

“A surprise he could stay that way, given who his master is.” Dokja said breezily, glancing around the vast room. He ignored Heewon snorting and noted in satisfaction. “Very well-maintained.”

A gentle voice replied back to him. “Thank you for the kind words, Prince Dokja.” They turned around to see a beautiful woman standing next to a bookshelf, smiling at him amicably.

He returned it. “Praise is due in the face of such dedication.” He looked at her inquiringly and she curtsied, light brown hair falling past her shoulders softly.

“My name is Yoo Sangah, I am the Royal Librarian.” She walked closer to them and stopped a foot away. “May I assist Your Highness?”

Dokja nodded. “I would love some help. Is there a section of the library no one goes to? I like to read, and I prefer a quiet space for it.”

Sangah lit up. “I know just the place.” She led them deeper into the library and continued speaking. “I often go there myself and it’s very cozy, right next to a large window that overlooks the forests surrounding Murim.”

Dokja already liked her. He could tell she was a story-lover just like him, in the reverent way she looked at the books towering above them and the light in her eyes as she described what she liked to read.

Heewon nudged him and nodded in approval. Safe, her gaze said. Potentially trustworthy. Dokja agreed with his friend.

They spent a couple of hours with Sangah, getting to know the librarian more as the sun started setting. Dokja was in the middle of a deep discussion regarding the potential plagiarism of one of his favorite books when Heewon tapped him lightly.

He looked up to see a straight-faced man standing at a respectful distance and waiting for his attention. “Yes?” Dokja asked, closing the book. Sangah quietly took it and left, giving them privacy.

The messenger kept his head bowed and eyes on the ground. “Prince Dokja, the Emperor has set a date for your wedding with Crown Prince Jonghyuk.” It sounded like a death sentence, said with all the solemnity the man seemed to possess.

Dokja felt his face involuntarily twist. “When?” He felt less than enthusiastic about it and wasn’t inclined to hide it.

“A month’s time.” Dokja narrowed his eyes, suspicious. It seemed rushed for some reason.

He waved the man away and looked at Heewon for her input. “Why are they pushing it so fast?” Heewon asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Usually a wedding of this stature takes months – we’ve only known about your marriage for three weeks.”

“It makes me uneasy.” Dokja said to her. “Something’s just not right.” They exchanged theories with each other, but knew that they wouldn’t get an answer without the missing key figure – his mother.

Yoo Sangah returned with a tray of tea and cookies and the two ceased all conversation, sending her innocent smiles.

“What was the news?” Sangah asked, pouring them cups. “Or is it private...?”

Dokja shook his head and chuckled. “My wedding’s been decided!” He said with false happiness, clinking his teacup with hers.

Sangah’s eyes widened and she cheered, “Congratulations! May I have the honor of making the first toast to my future Empress?” Dokja couldn’t even get mad at her friendly teasing and nodded in defeat.

She lifted her cup up and said, “To a time of prosperity and harmony!”

“To prosperity and harmony.” Heewon echoed after her.

Chapter Text

Excerpt One:

(Timeline: The morning after their wedding night)

While Dokja wasn’t in love with Jonghyuk, he certainly found him extremely attractive, so the sex was great, but he felt a slight disconnect from it all. He still got off, and Jonghyuk definitely did as well, but to Dokja it was kind of like ‘I had sex and it felt good, but that’s pretty much it’ and nothing else.

The morning after wasn’t even that awkward for him. He simply greeted his husband then left to take a bath to wash off all the grim and fluids that dried on his body.

Dokja thought to himself that he definitely didn’t mind having to repeat their wedding night until Dokja became pregnant with the Murim Empire’s heir. It was good stress relief and at least he knew he could trust Jonghyuk.

Excerpt Two:

(Timeline: After their marriage, where they’re dancing around each other and starting to fall in love. An assassin attempts to threaten Jonghyuk using Dokja’s life) 

The assassin held Dokja by the neck, his arm digging into his throat. “Move and I’ll kill your precious wife,” he threatened Jonghyuk and his men. The Crown Prince froze, his sword still at the ready.

Dokja, on the other hand, was getting annoyed at how this man took him off guard. ‘If Mother was here, she’d make me go through hours of punishment training.’ He grumbled bitterly in his mind. He could see Heewon sneaking around in the shadows, getting ready to leap into action.

In the stare-off, Dokja sighed out loud. The assassin jerked his arm back, the crook of his elbow pressing down further. “Shut up, Princess.” The man hissed at him. Jonghyuk jerked slightly and the man turned his attention back to him, disregarding Dokja as a threat.

And that was when Dokja decided he was quite done with being the damsel-in-distress.

He slid his hand into his robe and grabbed his blade upside down by the handle. “Take your dirty arm off me.” The assassin opened his mouth, but Dokja whipped his dagger out and slammed it into his side, feeling satisfaction as it slid into his flesh like butter.

The man loosened his grip out of pain and Dokja pushed away from him, turning around and sweeping him off his feet. “This is for daring to touch me.” Dokja said, drawing his leg back and kicking him across the head, a loud crack echoing throughout the room.

“Heewon,” he called out. She obediently came to him. “The arm that held me, hold it up.” She gave a vicious grin and complied, allowing Dokja to unsheathe her sword. In all his rage, Dokja swung down and took off his limb, ignoring the assassin as he woke up screaming in pain. He turned to one of the startled soldiers and snapped at him. “Give me your torch.”

The soldier stared at him, stunned. “Well?” Dokja said, voice sharp and impatient. He started and came forward. Dokja snatched it away from him and lent down to bring the bloodied stump to the fire and cauterized the wound. When the assassin fainted from pain again, he kicked him for good measure before turning to Jonghyuk, ignoring the surprised and impressed look.

Dokja smiled, warm and pleasant. “Husband,” he said sweetly, “may I be excused to bathe?” Jonghyuk tilted his head and nodded. As Dokja walked past him, he paused and said, “Keep him alive for me?”

“Hm.” Jonghyuk replied. At a wave of his hand, his men marched forward and picked the assassin up.

Dokja left the room and ignored all the panicking servants. “Prepare a bathe in my room,” he pulled aside a maid and she nodded, rushing off to do this bidding.

“The security needs to be tightened.” Heewon said, eyes narrowed. “He shouldn’t have been able to get so close to you.” Dokja nodded in agreement. “And everyone he got past needs to be demoted and sent back for more training.”

Dokja sighed. “Honestly, he made me pull out my precious blade. I’ll need to clean and polish it.”

-

When Dokja entered the dining room, Jonghyuk was already sat at the table, waiting for him. His husband’s eyes narrowed at the bandages rolled around Dokja’s neck. “You were seriously injured?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“Only bruising.” Dokja replied. “It’d be a waste of all my Mother’s hard training if something as simple as that took me down.” He sat down and picked up his chopsticks to start eating.

Jonghyuk waited until he got a few bites in before starting. “He’s in the dungeon. I figured you would want to see him before we did anything.”

Dokja’s lips quirked up and he purred, “You spoil me rotten, husband.” He watched Jonghyuk’s ear turn a light red and hid his pleasure behind his cup.

-

Jonghyuk held out his arm and Dokja slipped his hand in. He turned his head to look at Heewon, “Second drawer in my nightstand, please.” His guard nodded and left the dining room with swift steps.

The couple walked towards the dungeon, making pleasant conversation as if they weren’t on the way to see Dokja’s would-be assassin.

Excerpt Three: 

(Timeline: After they’ve fallen in love, Lee Sookyung finally arrives from the war and storms Murim after finding out what the ministers of Seoul did; Dokja warns Jonghyuk about his mother)

An eunuch rushed into the room and kneeled down to Dokja in a hurry. “Pardon my rudeness, but please come to the courtroom, Your Highness.” Dokja frowned.

“Did something happen?” He was already getting up and following the eunuch, rushing past all the servants.

“Y-Your mother, Empress Sookyung, burst into the room and is currently demanding His Majesty to give you back to her.” Dokja’s eyes widened and he let a curse slip out before breaking into a run, Heewon following behind him.

As they neared the doors, he could hear his mother’s commanding voice. “Dokja was married off without my consent or knowledge. I have already taken care of those minister bastards and I have come for my son.”

The Emperor answered back. “The ceremony has already been held, Empress Sookyung.”

“I will not leave without him.” There was a familiar stubbornness to her tone. He could hear her sword being slammed into the ground. Dokja could already imagine his imposing mother, all toned muscle and vicious eyes, staring the Emperor down.

“Is that a threat?” The Emperor replied idly.

His mother laughed, harsh and cold. “It is a promise, dear Emperor.”

Dokja burst into the room just as his mother said, “Shall we test out how many men you will need to stop me?” He could see his mother’s deceptively thin back swinging her broadsword up.

“Mother!” He called out, watching her pause. She turned around and let her eyes soften.

“Son!” She said, sheathing her sword and walking towards him with long strides, bringing him into a rough hug. “Are you okay? Have you been treated well?” She pulled back and gripped his arms, looking him up and down in concern.

-

“You won’t be able to get along with Mother.” Dokja admitted, smiling sheepishly at Jonghyuk.

Jonghyuk frowned. “Why? I’m sure with enough time, I could get her to accept me.”

Dokja shook his head and looked at Heewon. She laughed. “The one thing the Empress loves is her son. Dokja wanting to stay here means that she won’t be able to see him and therefore she’ll hate whatever Dokja stays for. It doesn’t matter what you do,” Heewon said. “Even if you offered all of Murim to her, she would still hate you as long as you kept Dokja.”

Jonghyuk pursed his lips and looked grim. “Then I guess we’ll stay enemies, because there’s no way I’ll give up my wife.” He pulled Dokja into his side and pressed a kiss to his temple.

Excerpt Four:

(Timeline: After they’ve fallen in love, around a year since they met. Conflict arises between the couple because the nobles are pushing for Jonghyuk to marry another wife)

Dokja understood. First and foremost, he was a Prince and a ger, so even if he hated the thought of Jonghyuk having other wives, wanted to monopolize his lover all to himself, he understood the need for heirs – especially the future Emperor’s, but he was still just a human in the end.

The worst part was that he actually really liked Lee Seolhwa. She was a spitfire of a woman, wickedly smart, and one of the few who dared to stare Jonghyuk down when he was being insufferable.

He just hated his future of seeing the two of them being intimate in front of him. For all that Jonghyuk claimed to love and adore Dokja, he hadn’t heard a single word of protest from the man, even after a week since the marriage had been suggested. For Dokja, that was as good as an answer.

It was disappointing. Even Heewon, who had slowly warmed up to Jonghyuk as their relationship became more genuine, started looking at the man like an enemy, eyes cold and disgusted.

Fortunately, Dokja had enough respect for himself and self-control to not cause a spectacle every time he saw Jonghyuk afterwards. He forcefully suppressed his anger and hurt, greeting his husband politely and distantly. He stopped letting Jonghyuk touch him so much, stepped away from his wandering hands more often, and escaped from him under the guise of work.

Dokja refused to give his all to a man who wouldn’t return it equally.

But he still loved Jonghyuk, painfully so. Dokja’s heart still went out of rhythm when their hands brushed, his cheeks flushed when Jonghyuk leaned close to whisper into his ear, and he felt himself falling all over again when his husband looked at him with tender eyes.

He loved and hated how Jonghyuk’s attitude never changed. He could hear the whispers of the noblemen who didn’t like him; they claimed that his time of being favored would soon end, that Dokja would no longer be able to act so arrogantly and parade around as if he was the owner of the palace.

Heewon almost spat when she heard them. Dokja had to stop her from cutting their tongues out on multiple occasions. It seemed as though they already forgot how she’d taken first in the competition, and how loyal she was to Dokja.

They also seemed to forget the rumors of when Dokja cut down an assassin. Perhaps they never believed it, because Dokja was a ger and gers were supposed to be dainty and delicate, more focused on embroidery and poetry than politics and martial arts.

And through it all, Jonghyuk didn’t lift a finger to stop them. It made Dokja doubt. Was it truly love when Jonghyuk made no move to silence the nobles who sneered at his ‘beloved’ wife? Did Jonghyuk trust that Dokja could handle it himself, or did he simply just not care anymore?

It made Dokja bitter, and in return, made his interactions with his husband even more frigid. The thought of being touched by skin that would soon tangle with another woman’s… it gave him goosebumps. He took to wearing gloves and long sleeved robes that covered his neck, leaving his hair down in thick, silky waves.

It was unbearable. Dokja was a selfish person at his core. He didn’t want the man he loved to lay with another, didn’t want to share him with multiple wives, couldn’t stand the thought of Jonghyuk falling in love with someone that wasn’t him.

Dokja would rather have never married him than experience the betrayal and agony he felt now. He would also never allow himself to sink so low as to fight with others for the attention and affection of one man.

When a month passed and Jonghyuk still hadn’t said a word, Dokja started writing a letter to his mother.

“I just can’t do it, Heewon.” He said to his closest friend, staring down at the paper. “I’m not generous enough to allow my husband to marry others besides me.” Heewon looked at him with understanding eyes. “No matter how much I love Jonghyuk…” Dokja trailed off.

“You will not stay with a man whose heart can be occupied by others while you remain devoted solely to him.” Heewon finished for her master.

Dokja nodded. “Yes. If Jonghyuk accepts this marriage, I will demand for a divorce. But this is not something I will tell him. What I do depends on his decision.” He neatly folded the letter and tucked it into his desk.

“Our nation has never allowed the ruler multiple partners, and while it leaves heirs to be desired, it is a system I intend to stick with.” Dokja continued, standing up from his chair and walk out to the balcony.

Heewon sent him a small smirk and said, “I hear the Emperor of the West is still without a spouse. If we do end up going back to Seoul…”

Dokja laughed. “I think I’m tired of marrying out of my home. Perhaps I’ll look for Princes without a claim to their nation’s throne.” They joked now, but it still weighed heavily on Dokja’s heart. Jonghyuk was his first love, and he gave everything to him, had exposed his darkest sides and trusted him to stay.

Dokja thought he had been loved in return.

-

Outside of Dokja’s room, Lee Hyunsung had been listening in. He didn’t mean to, but Jonghyuk sent him to bring Dokja to the Royal Gardens. The Crown Prince noticed his beloved’s increasingly cold regard and panicked, setting up a lunch with all of Dokja’s favorite foods in an attempt to apologize for whatever he did.

Jonghyuk had become such a fool for Dokja that he would immediately claim responsibility even if he himself didn’t know what he did to anger his wife. Hyunsung could only shake his head in amazement. Where Jonghyuk used to be a cold and ruthless man now stood a doting and anxious husband. If his master from just barely a year ago saw this, he’d call the current Jonghyuk an imposter.

-

Jonghyuk stared down at the letter in a daze. He couldn’t let Dokja leave him. Before he met the ger, Jonghyuk’s life had been a rinse and repeat. Wake up, train, attend court, fend off power-hungry nobles, look over documents, make sure the army was up-to-par, cut out any corruption, then take care of his other duties as Crown Prince.

Dokja was the only one who looked at him without any ulterior motives. He wasn’t greedy to become the Empress, hadn’t thrown himself at Jonghyuk the moment they met, and didn’t bend to his will. He spoke honestly and he was so strong and independent. Even coming from a nation weaker than Murim in terms of military power, Dokja was never insecure. He was firm in who he was and what he could achieve with his own effort.

Dokja was Jonghyuk’s breath of fresh air, the moonlight peeking out from the clouds, the flowers blooming that added color to Jonghyuk’s dull life. He was the only one who could Jonghyuk feel.

Jonghyuk knew, with as much certainty as time moved forward and death existed, that he would devolve into something less than human if Dokja ever left him. He could already feel the bubbling panic and madness creeping up the longer he stared at the letter asking for Dokja’s mother to retrieve him after his divorce was granted.

He would sooner lock up his beloved wife and chain Dokja to himself than ever let him successfully ask for a divorce.

(Fin.)