CW: Explicit language, vomiting, alcohol abuse, mentions of sex, misogynistic slur.
Over a hundred palace officials, Ministers, and local dignitaries gather in the imperial banquet hall as the last light of dusk dissipates into the delicate shroud of twilight.
The immense structure is second in size only to the assembly hall, with hinoki cypress frames and sky high walls adorned with masterful paintings of natural landscapes. The guests sit upon low platforms lined with hand-woven tatami, stretched along three walls. Blue mahoe sobans with gated legs groan under the heavy platters of the finest delicacies in all four territories, many dishes that one outside the palace could never sample in their lifetime. Priceless drinks accompany the meal, slackening the rigid social graces of the East’s most powerful.
The eye is drawn to a single point within this scene, which is the Empress and the Crown Prince, both sitting upon a covered dais decorated in gossamer silk. A sheer veil drapes over the Mother’s head, obscuring her face – only an impression can be seen, ghostly and ethereal. Her robes and obi are pure white, accented by an aegean haori, and the Crown Prince’s robes compliment her colours inversely.
In fact, every single person attending the banquet wears a shade of blue in some form or another. Palace etiquette in deference to the imperial bloodline. If one were to wear anything but during a formal event (or gods forbid, wear the rebellion’s red), one would face serious consequences. At worst, they would find themselves at the end of a noose.
At the centre of the hall is the entertainment. Palace musicians, dancers, and actors put on a lively show for the guests, reading the atmosphere and adjusting their play accordingly. With the banquet well under way, the stiff and formal atmos is shed for a more casual laissez-faire, thus the elegant and restrained show increases in fervour.
Deeper into the night however, carnal pleasures will be introduced, and the Mother will slip off her veil to indulge. Only then are the true depravity and tastes of the court well and truly satiated.
Rin gathers this from the loose-tongued officials sitting nearby, all who seem rather excited for the late-night turn. Despite his foul mood, the youth does find himself rather interested. He plays with his ceramic cup as he silently wonders what kind of pleasures there are to be had. Somehow, he knows that the menu contains more than just sex.
He casts his eyes to the little lord, who sits closest to the Crown Prince as his royal companion. Both of them are in deep discussion with a smile dancing on Erie’s lips. Jun has a stiff smile upon his face, but he seems rather on edge. In fact, he seems unwell. Sweat covers his brow, and his pallour is stark and sickly, even under the warm lights of the electric lanterns hung upon the walls.
A flicker of concern is promptly snuffed when Rin remembers their last interaction. He huffs through his nose and refills his cup, downing a shot of a particularly potent brand of rice wine.
“You should be mindful of your drinking.” Zev sits upon his legs to Rin’s left, calmly sipping at his tea. His eyes are lowered and every movement is graceful, as if he had been raised in the palace from birth. “One cup of the imperial Yaraoi equates to two cups of liquor from other distilleries. Remember that while you are a guest of the House of Hwan, your actions reflect the Hwan name.”
Rin clicks his tongue in irritation, setting down his empty cup. “No-one else seems to care. And apparently things get wild later on, so keep your nagging to yourself, old man.”
“The Lord always cares for proper decorum, regardless of how others are behaving.” Zev rests his cup in the palm of his hand and side-glances the youth. His hazel eyes are hooded and cool. “And we will not be in attendance for the post-midnight entertainment.”
“What? Why not?” Rin purses his lips, disappointed. He splashes more wine into his cup rebelliously. “It’s the most interesting thing to happen since we arrived here.”
“The Lord avoids such debauchery and thus so shall we.”
“The Lord is a stick in the mud. And so are you. All of you. Haven’t you ever had fun before?”
“You will refrain from insulting the Lord.” A flash of anger in that handsome face incites a sloppy smile from the youth.
Rin leans in close, resting an elbow on his soban. “The Lord. The Lord. All you talk about is the Lord. Tell me, pet. Are the rumours true?”
“I wouldn’t the faintest since I do not indulge in idle gossip–”
“Are you and the Governor lovers?”
Zev chokes on his tea and slams the cup down. He brings a fist to his lips and coughs quietly, tears springing to his squinted eyes. When he recovers and glares at Rin, he looks positively hassled, with dark cheeks and the faintest tremour in his lips. By his reaction alone, it’s clear that Zev is either ignorant of the rumours or he has never been asked outright before. Or both.
“I’m a little surprised, I admit,” Rin continues with insouciance. “Didn’t think the Governor would be the type of guy to ride his manservant. Or is it the other way around? Still, you need to learn to do things for yourself every now and then. Haven’t you ever wanted to see what happens after midnight?”
The lord’s manservant purses his lips and glances away, suddenly appearing quite listless. “How ever did you survive this long?” he asks, flatly.
“With my beauty, brain, and brawn, pet.”
“Sheer luck, then.” Zev pats his soban dry with a napkin before refilling his tea cup. He purses his trembling lips tightly, flush crawling down his neck. “You will not spread crass falsities about the Lord. He is and always has been loyal to the late Lady Hwan Jina.” And I am not to his taste, he adds silently, bringing the tea cup to his lips.
Rin cocks a brow as he eyes the manservant. “Did you know the Lady well?”
“I did.”
“What was she like?”
The Westerner pauses to glance at the curious youth, a slight furrow in his brows. “Why do you wish to know?”
“Well, she’s kinda hard to avoid at the estate, but no-one seems to know anything about her.”
“Hard to avoid…?”
Rin gives him a wry smile. “She’s everywhere.”
“…I suppose that is true. The Lord has been reluctant to part with her things.”
“What was she like?”
Zev sips his tea quietly for a moment, casting a rather distant gaze towards Sun. The first lord sits by the Mother’s side, politely conversing with her. He pours her a glass of wine, but she doesn’t touch anything on her grand, pearl inlaid soban. Instead, she puffs languidly on an elegant silver pipe, with a foot long stem that disappears beneath her veil. The smoke is tinged red, like evaporated blood.
“The Lady was a Westerner, like me,” the manservant begins, softly. “To me, she was home in an unfamiliar place. During my childhood, we would share meals together and quietly celebrate Western jubilees. Apparently, I reminded her deceased brother, so she doted on me well.” He tries to swallow the heavy stone in his throat, gaze lowering to his lap. “Lady Hwan Jina was someone who doted on everyone well. She was always kind, no matter who you were. Much like young master Jun, she would often indulge in charitable practices. And much like the young master, she was also clumsy and thoughtful and always thinking of the plight of others.” He sets down his cup and slips his hands into his sleeves. “Does this suffice?”
“She sounds like someone who would piss off the Governor.”
“How so?”
Rin twists his lips to the side. “She’s similar to Jun in a lot of ways, right? And all that I’ve seen is that Jun can do nothing right. At least not in the Governor’s eyes.”
“…there may have been some tension.”
“So they were having issues.”
“What exactly are you hoping to hear?” The manservant’s gaze sharpens. Wariness turned to suspicion.
“She had an affair, didn’t she?”
Hazel eyes flinch wide before quickly narrowing. A hard grimace mars Zev’s face. “That is quite the assumption.”
“Who was it?” Rin presses, grabbing the man by his sleeve. “You know who it is, don’t you? What happened?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“Even if your assumption were true, it is not a matter an outsider should be concerned about.” Zev lightly tugs his sleeve free. “I would highly advise you to keep your mouth shut. If I should hear that you were spreading groundless rumours about the Lord and the late Lady, I will not hesitate to protect their reputation. With whatever means necessary.” A ruthless flash in those hooded eyes.
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“How long will you be indulging in the Lord’s hospitality?”
“Trying to get rid of me, old man?”
Zev huffs through his nose, picking up his chopsticks to poke at a side dish of pickled vegetables. “Whyever would I do such a thing?” he says, dryly.
“Whyever indeed?” Hwan Sun lowers himself between the two men, sitting upon his legs gracefully. “Rin has been integrated into the House by now as Jun’s companion. I see no reason for him to leave.”
“My lord,” Zev starts and tries to vacate his seat, but the Governor grasps his shoulder, keeping him still.
“Relax, Zev. Do you not recall that I have given you the night? You are a guest, not my manservant, so enjoy yourself.”
“Surely you would be more comfortable–”
“Zev.” Sun’s voice is firm and sharp. Further protest withers away. Seeing his manservant’s acquiescence, the Governor smiles thinly in approval. “Rin. Would you please pour me some wine? I have yet to enjoy a drink tonight.”
The youth blinks and automatically does as asked, giving Sun his freshly filled cup instead. He’s hardly seen the lord outside of his office and being spoken to in such a casual manner has thrown him completely. All he can do is sit there and stare, feeling increasingly ill at ease.
“Thank you.” Sun takes the cup and holds it like a tea cup before taking a graceful sip. “Are you enjoying the banquet, Rin?”
Zev frowns and lowers his eyes, staring blankly at the dish of pickles.
“Uh. Sure. Why not.” Rin absently gathers his hair over one shoulder, sable tresses now reaching down to his belly. “I didn’t know how close you were to the Mother.”
“Not at all,” Sun says, smiling thinly. “She had simply requested my ear for the night. I know when to keep quiet.”
“There’s supposed to be something happening after midnight–”
“Yes, I thought you might be interested.” The Governor releases an amused breath and sets down his wine on the edge of Rin’s soban. “How many people do you see at this banquet, Rin?”
The raven blinks at Sun for a moment before sweeping his eye around the hall. “Uh. About a hundred or so.”
“And every guest here represents two hundred more. And each of those two hundred people represents four hundred more. And so on and forth. Now look at the Mother.”
Rin’s eye flits to the Empress. She makes a rather lonesome yet imposing figure upon the dais, detached from the revelry around her.
“She is but one person. A single human who sits upon a throne won by bloodshed. What person here would not wish to attain a single shred of this absolute power? While the Mother’s word is law, that does not mean that there is no treachery. Humans are as loyal as they are treacherous. And treachery is borne from greed and lust. Thus the Mother must cater to both of these things, at least keep them sated enough to ensure that all her people remain on the side of loyalty.”
“So what happens exactly after midnight?” Rin asks, brows pinched in incredulity. “It can’t just be sex, right?”
“Every one of the hundred you see here have particular tastes and desires. Whether that be money, sex, or…otherwise. Once a year, the Mother allows them to indulge.”
“That sounds like a pretty good time to me. Why don’t you ever stay for it?”
“I do not have such desires.”
“Bullshit. Everyone does.” Rin flinches when the lord gives him a cold look, and he quickly adjusts his tone. “I mean, you’re human too, right? My lord?”
“My desire extends outside this hall,” comes the perfunctory response.
Rin clicks his tongue in disappointment. He would have really enjoyed seeing the Governor let down his hair, so to speak. “What other desires could you have outside of money and sex? That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”
“Did you so readily forget that we are at war, Rin?” Sun raises his brows at the youth, cold eyes glittering in the fractal lights of the chandeliers. “Therein lies my focus. Hundreds of our soldiers die every day fighting those Otsuki rebels. I could not in good faith sit here and indulge when people are dying for our safety.”
“How noble,” Rin says, dryly. “Why don’t you remind everyone else here about the war? There’s no use telling me all this.”
“I am in no position to dictate their actions. That is a burden for the Mother.”
“I bet none of these assholes have ever been to war,” Rin scoffs, drinking straight from the tokkuri. A trickle of wine rolls down his chin and he wipes with the back of his hand.
“There must be those left behind to run the country while the soldiers are at battle.” Sun picks up his wine and sips, watching the youth with a rather keen gaze. “Do you have any thoughts of enlisting?”
“No. Why should I?”
“And yet you criticise those who do not fight?”
“I criticise those who would send others to fight in their place, yeah.”
“This fight is to keep you safe, Rin. We work tirelessly to ensure the safety of our people, which includes you.”
“Your people don’t include Slummers, my lord.” Rin sets down the tokkuri harder than intended. The noise echoes through the hall, causing a brief lull in the hum of voices. “I’ve never once believed any of you cared what happens to us and I’m not going to start believing now. Think I’ve never heard those words before? Whoever sits on that throne makes no difference to me.”
“Do you truly believe that life will remain the same if the rebels claim the throne? Tell me this, do you believe Jun should be punished for being of noble birth?” Sun’s voice is quiet and light, as if they were making idle conversation. Judging by how intense his gaze is however, Rin knows that there is more at play here.
What is this? Should I be honest or tell him what he wants to hear? Sweat pricks at his nape and he licks his lips, nervously. “I don’t…think he should be punished, no. It’s not like he had a choice. And it’s not exactly a crime.”
“If the Otsukis should win the war, children like Jun will be slaughtered or enslaved, purely based on their lineage.”
“But…isn’t that how it is now?” Rin says, palms growing damp. “Aren’t I being punished for my lineage?”
“Do you feel punished?” Sun tilts his head at the youth, brow peaked.
“Sometimes,” Rin mutters, throwing his shoulder in a half-shrug. “I just don’t see why I should get punished tenfold when someone like Jun might not get punished at all for the same crime. That doesn’t seem very fair to me.”
“Fairness is the dream of the downtrodden,” the Governor says, brusquely. “In reality, society would crumble if not for the select few who have been raised from birth to lead.”
“I see nobles fatten their pockets and their bellies everyday on the sweat of their workers.” The raven briefly touches his eyepatch. A sick, sour feeling twists in his guts. “Yet I don’t see them leading them in any way. In fact, they seem to see us as beasts to work their fields and serve their meals and nothing more.”
“There are those who do not deserve their titles,” Sun nods with a faint grimace. “Although one who dictates who one should be from birth would be nothing short of a god.”
“Or the Mother.”
“Hm.” Sun’s lips curl in a mirthless smile. “Do you not wish to curry her favour?”
“Wouldn’t hurt. But that’s not my point. What, aside from birth, qualifies those fat bellied nobles and even you, or the Mother, to your authority? What, because you’re learned? If the qualifiers for authority come down to book smarts, then half of Hanjuyang would be more than capable of replacing the Mother.” Rin tries to imagine Small sitting upon the Mother’s throne, blue eyed and regal, and he has to suppress a rogue laugh.
“If half of Hanjuyang ruled the empire, it would fall into chaos. Unfortunately, our flaws are varied and our personalities moreso. That is where a true leader comes in. One mind, one heart, tempered by blood and cultivated in a carefully curated environ with the finest education and training. The Mother serves us as much as we serve her.”
“And those fat bellied nobles? In what way do they serve us?”
“If that is the price for order, then we have surely been blessed.”
The youth scoffs and drains the tokkuri. “Never mind that those who has to pay the price are us stupid sods in the Slums.”
“Whether it be you in this lifetime or me in the next, someone will always have to pay the price, Rin.”
“Easy for you to say, my lord.”
They stare at each other in silence for a long moment. The Governor with that mirthless smile of his and Rin, impassive and prickling with irritation.
“Then what are your thoughts on the Otsuki rebels?” Sun narrows his eyes subtly. “Your sentiments echo their propagandist maxims.”
“I’m not a rebel sympathiser, if that’s what you’re asking,” Rin snorts, propping his chin up with his fist. His head feels hazy, as if he had stayed in a hot bath for far too long. “They’re just as bad as you guys. Saying pretty things when in reality you’re all just a bunch of hypocrites. They can rot in the underworld for all I care.”
“That is surprising to hear.”
“Why? What did you expect to hear? Even if I was a sympathiser, think I’d admit that to you? Right here?” Rin scowls, rubbing at his aching socket behind the patch. “Anyway, they haven’t done shit for me. They haven’t done shit for anyone. All they’ve done is caused a never-ending war. You know, for people who say they want to help us, they sure have been killing us a lot.”
This seems to please Sun greatly, his golden eyes holding a light that had been absent prior. “Indeed, the Otsuki rebels simply wish to cause chaos and bloodshed. Do you know how many times we have attempted to negotiate a peace treaty? I do believe our most recent attempt would be our ninth.”
“Dunno why you even bother,” Rin mutters, lashes drooping over his red rimmed eye. “If it were me, I’d just wipe ‘em right off the map in one go. You gotta or they’re just gonna keep popping up everywhere. That’s what we do when we have a rat infestation. They breed like crazy otherwise.”
“To do so would be to endanger civilians.”
“Oh, don’t act like you suddenly care about civilians,” Rin scowls, tossing a sweetmeat into his mouth. And while you’re at it, why don’t you go ahead and wipe yourselves out too, he adds, silently.
“The majority of civilian casualty is caused by the rebels–”
“What about the soldiers? Where do you think they come from? I know countless Slummers who have never held a sword a day in their life. But they’ve been lured in by the promise of coin and a future, only to be killed before they see either of those things. Why do you think you’re losing the war, my lord?”
“We are not losing,” Sun says, curtly.
“I was there at that meeting this morning. I heard everything. You’re losing.”
“And how do you suppose we should stop this war? I have yet to disagree with your points, Rin. Nine peace treaty negotiations have failed. The rebels have not thought of ending anything.”
“Like I said, wipe them out in one go. You’re picking away at them too slow. You can’t keep up.”
“How would you suggest we ‘wipe them out’?”
“That’s your job isn’t it? Minister of Military Affairs?”
“Soon, if all goes well,” Sun says, smiling thinly. “I will take your advice into consideration in the meantime. I do appreciate your enthusiasm, Rin. If only Jun showed as much interest as you.” He drains his cup and sets it down with a satisfied sigh. “Thank you for the wine and the conversation. It has truly been…illuminating.”
Sun drifts on through the hall, dipping into conversation with various people of import, leaving Rin with the distinct feeling that he had just been evaluated. Though for what, he’s uncertain.
The drinks flow like an abundant spring, welling forth with fervour. The night ticks on towards midnight and Rin finds himself wedged in between the Crown Prince and Jun, babbling directly into the latter’s ear about his mother.
“–so I think there was another man in the picture…some Easterner, I think,” he slurs, leaning most of his weight against Jun.
The little lord maintains a cold expression, his disdain all too clear at the raven’s inebriation. “What are you implying, Rin?”
“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ clueless.” Rin snorts laughter and hangs his arm over those broad shoulders. “It means that your mother was–”
“Mind your tongue, cur,” Erie snaps, grabbing the drunken youth roughly by his scruff and yanking him away from Jun. “You will refrain from speaking on this matter and return to your seat at once.”
Equilibrium lost, Rin sways into the prince, chest knocking into a muscular arm. He props his chin upon Erie’s shoulder and gazes up at him, his red rimmed eye a tad glossy from the drink. “I don’t wanna go back. There’s no-one I’d rather be drinking with than you, Your Highness,” he drawls, smirking.
Dazzling blues narrow in disgust as they glare down at the marred face. They crawl across Rin’s features like a pair of flaying blades but he’s much too drunk to notice, let alone care.
A sadistic glint grows in those sapphire blues. “Why, then how could I ever refuse? Come, drink with us. Are you partial to Southern wine?”
“I’m partial to any wine,” Rin says, grinning sloppily.
A side-glance at Jun reveals nothing to the raven save for that cool impassivity. The expression (or lack thereof) fits poorly on the little lord’s handsome face, which usually holds a gentle warmth. Almost always when he looks at Rin. But now…
Rin’s grin shrivels. He swallows, feeling an unfathomable ache in his chest.
Before he can ruminate further on Jun, the Crown Prince flags down a server for another cup. In seconds, a brimming glass of golden wine is shoved into Rin’s hands.
Erie raises his own glass and gives him a rather dashing smile. “Let us see if a Slummer can hold his own when he drinks with his emperor. What say you, Rat?”
“I think you shouldn’t underestimate me, Your Highness.” Rin raises his own cup, eye narrowing in irritation.
“To the Mother’s eternal health and grace.”
“To the Mother.”
***
The soban is upended, sending plates of food and drink scattering across the tatami. Highly trained servers snap into action, cleaning the mess with uncanny efficiency. The harm is done however, as almost every pair of eyes are trained on the lower side of the dais, where the Crown Prince and his companion are trying to control an unruly (and exceedingly inebriated) youth.
“Rin, calm yourself,” Jun snaps, grabbing the raven’s arm in an iron grip. “You have made such a mess in front of everyone.”
Erie chuckles, leaning back in his seat as a server replaces his soban. “Oh, let him be, Jun. The man’s just trying to enjoy himself! Here, have more wine, Rat. It seems to be to your taste.”
Rin sags in the little lord’s painful grip, panting lightly as his head spins. He tries to maintain the illusion of sobriety by straightening his spine and giving the prince a wonky smile. “It’s probably the best wine I’ve ever tasted,” he says, words near incomprehensible by the strength of his slur. “I could drink it all night, every night. Gimme–” He snatches the cup out of Erie’s hand and tosses the contents back, draining every last drop.
The prince sips at his own drink, eyes glittering as he watches Rin over the rim of his cup. “I must say, you have truly outdone yourself, Rat. You have an impressive constitution, being able to keep up with me.”
“I think I’ve long surpassed you,” Rin mumbles, rubbing at his bloodshot eye as his vision blurs. Nausea churns his guts and sours his mouth. The world is but a bleeding impression of colour, snatches of voices dipping in and out of his dampened awareness. The most prominent is the prince’s, his urgings and faux amicability. Jun’s painful grip is the only tether to this unstable world and he tries to focus on it, keep himself grounded. Which he finds increasingly difficult when he starts to lose time.
“Come, come, have another!”
More wine is forced into his hands. At this point, he’s long beyond protest, unable to think beyond acting instinct – and years of drinking has ingrained the only response to being given free alcohol.
It’s inevitable then, that five cups of potent Southern wine later, Rin lurches over and vomits all down his robes and onto the priceless tatami flooring.
Sweat stings his eye as he hunches over, gripping his churning stomach. Harsh pants and gagging coughs are interspersed with more bouts of sickness, which splatters repugnantly in the fetid pool. Most of it’s wine, he dazes, before another bout surges up his seizing throat.
He hears many voices shouting and laughing derisively, bouncing off the walls and filling his spinning head. Erie’s voice is the loudest of them all, expressing utter disgust. And though Rin is barely cognisant, he is yet able to hear the prince’s glee, bleeding through his tone.
There’s a flurry of movement. Multiple hands grasp at his soiled outer robes, tugging them from his sweat drenched body. Stiff voices promise to clean the garment and ask if he is well. None of these voices belong to Jun.
Rin wrenches himself away from those meddling hands and lurches to his feet. Questions are promptly ignored as he staggers away, a visceral pain spreading through his chest. Laughter roars, slams in his ears, when he trips over the steps, falling heavily onto his hands and knees like a clumsy toddler.
I’m just entertainment, he realises with a wave of blistering humiliation. These High District assholes are laughing at me. Like I’m a palace clown, hired for their amusement.
“I am a clown,” he murmurs aloud, dragging himself to his feet.
He tries to ignore the enraged glare from the Governor as he stumbles past. The click of the tongue from Zev. The leers and jeers and sadistic glee chasing him out of the banquet hall.
Rin stumbles into the imperial gardens where cool silence greets him. There’s no light tonight. Clouds hands low and heavy across the expansive landscape, casting the Blue Plains in a darkness that’s viscuous like oil. Dimly, he wonders where the bioluminescent plants are, before another powerful bout of nausea knocks him off balance.
He collapses beside a lacebark tree, retching helplessly. There’s only bile left, but his stomach continues to painfully contract. His eye burns with tears as he pants and curses, his frame trembling.
“Do you know what you have done?”
Jun’s voice is both familiar and not. The chill in his tone strikes Rin like a blade of ice, slicing into him with cruel efficacy. The raven pulls himself upright, shakily running his sleeve across his mouth. The foul wine-drenched stench of his vomit clings to him like a second skin, giving fuel to his sickness.
“Yeah. I vomited. Kinda hard to not to notice.” His cheeks are shockingly pale in the gloom, turning his swaying visage spectral.
Jun stands at a distance away as if reluctant to come too close. His goldens are flat, catching very little light. “We brought you here as our guest, which means that not only are we responsible for everything and anything you do, but you also represent our name. Do you know what this means?”
“Why don’t you enlighten me?” Rin rasps, leaning his body against the tree trunk. His breath is laboured, his heart moreso. He knows that he’s in the wrong this time. Jun has every right to be mad. And yet, he bristles at the lord’s sharp tone, so unaccustomed is he to hear such a voice from Jun.
“This means that you have tarnished our House. My father is already in a tenuous position with his promotion looming – and you have given his opponents munition.”
“As if they’ve never been sick from the drink.”
“That is irrelevant.”
“Your beloved prince wanted to compete. How could I refuse?”
“Surely you know that he has been watering his wine.”
Rin shoots a glare at the lord, hands curling into white-knuckled fists.
Jun narrows his eyes in disbelief. “You did not know.” He sighs and palms his brow. “How could you be so foolish?”
“Foolish? That blueblood fucker tricked me!”
“You will not blame others for your own actions.”
The Rat pulls himself to his feet and leans against the tree, tired of looking up at the self-righteous lord. “What is wrong with you?” he seethes. “Ever since we arrived here, you’ve been acting like an asshole. What, you’ve had enough of Slum trash like me now that you can slobber over His Highness’ royal prick?” Every word drips with pure venom.
Jun grimaces at the obscene language, his jaw tightening. Even from this distance, Rin can see how unwell the man appears. Sweat sheens his furrowed brow and dark bags hang heavy beneath his waterlines like charcoal smears.
“What are you talking about, Rin? I am no different than I always am. You should be mindful of how you speak, especially within the palace grounds. It is improper–”
“I’M NOT STUPID!” Rin roars, pushing himself off the tree trunk. He lunges at the lord and grabs him by the front of his robes. “Are you done with me, Jun? Is it because of what I said about us?” His voice cracks midway, pathetically. If he were sober, he would never cling to the man like a weepy, discarded lover. But he’s addled from drink and sad and mad, and his only support, his only comfort is the one tearing his heart in twain.
Jun stares down at the trembling youth, thick lashes lowered and darkening his gaze. Confusion briefly mars his cool features. There’s a flicker of concern. A familiar sight that Rin grasps onto desperately. But then, “There is no ‘us’, Rin. We spoke about this at the Lakehouse–”
“I know, godsdammit. I know. But…but there is an us. Even if I said there wasn’t. I mean, we’re good, aren’t we? I stayed, didn’t I? That means more than just friendship. Or a quick fuck.” He falters when a thought occurs to him. He bites his lip and palms the scarred side of his face, covering the wounds. “…is it…is it because of this?” he asks, smally.
Dread corrodes his spirit. Though the lord has told him countless times that he still finds him beautiful, people lie. Everyone lies. And Rin has been foolish enough to let himself fall for Jun’s beguiling words time and time again.
The little lord exhales sharply and pulls Rin’s hands from his chest. He keeps a firm hold of the raven’s wrists, keeping him upright. And contained. “There is no ‘us’, Rin,” he repeats, sternly. “There can never be anything more between us. You know this as well as I.”
“So…what. That’s it? You’re tossing me away now that you’ve had your fill?” Rin asks, near hysterical, a giddy laughter bubbles on his lips. “Who’s rejecting who here? You’re the one who wanted more. Or did you so conveniently forget?”
“After I am made Governor of Hanjuyang, I will be expected to wed and produce an heir.”
That giddy laughter bursts from Rin, high pitched and maddened. A furious swell of chaotic emotion batters him from the inside, an inhuman pressure that threatens to shatter the last reserves of his fragile stability. “But of course! What the fuck was I thinking? I’m impressed, little lord. To think that you had to put up with my disgusting face for all this time. How did you bear to be intimate with me? You would make an impressive Rose with those acting skills.”
Rin lurches forward and shoves his body into Jun’s, grinding up against him with a loathsome sneer. “Why don’t I just pay you from now on? A gold coin for a night in your bed. Put those acting skills to some use, you fucking whore.”
Jun stumbles back, releasing the raven from his cuffs. A flash of revulsion and anger crosses the man’s pallid features. “Rin, you are leaping to conclusions–”
“WHO IS RIN?” the raven snarls, thrusting a fist wildly at the lord. Knuckles graze the latter’s jaw, sending him back another step or two. “Since when do you call me by that shitty name?!”
Jun stares at him wide-eyed, rubbing his aching jaw. “Rin–”
“I want the name you gave me!” Tears drain from his body along with his desperate rage. His legs finally give out and he drops to the grass, sable locks cascading over his face as his head droops. “…call me Rinnie again,” he cries, digging his fists into the soil. “Don’t be like this, please.”
There’s an audible hesitation from the lord, before his quiet footsteps pad close. He kneels down and entwines the raven’s unsteady form in an awkward embrace. And though the lord’s touch lacks the usual warmth, Rin clutches at this single comfort like a drowning man gasping for air.
Ok how do i break the fourth wall to go kill this bitch please, jeehjohjoo teach me
LMAOOO in time, clozed, all in good time +u+ <33
I’m not crying. You are.
Thank you for the chapter!! ❤️❤️
waah dont cry!!! TT3TT Thank you for reading! <33
Mehn i kinda get why Jun was acting like that and i also vibe with Bby Rin. But you have to admit Rin was out of control and he did embarass the Hwan which has a lot of ramification ahhhh idk anymore i just wanna cryyy