COLOURS ✓

EPILOGUE

10 years later

Hoseok flipped through paperwork, sighing. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I don't see why they need me to approve this," he grumbled. "Seems like common sense to me."

"You are the King," Younha reminded. She'd been promoted to be a royal advisor. "Just a few more documents left, Your Majesty."

"I've gotta get home early," Hoseok said, flipping through the last few pages. "Taehyung and I need to be up early for Jeongguk's comeback show tomorrow."

"Being up early won't be an issue for you. As for King Taehyung, well. . . " Younha giggled. "We all know he sleeps like a log."

Hoseok chuckled. "Take the rest of the day off, Younha. I can handle it from here."

She straightened. "What? Are you sure?"

"Positive. My escorts will take me back to the palace."

Younha bowed. "Thank you, Your Majesty."

She left, leaving Hoseok with the last bit of paperwork. He was excited to finish it and go home.

-🎨-

When he arrived at the palace that evening, Taehyung had a canvas set up in the sitting room. He was dressed in a white button up shirt and black leather pants—he had returned from a recent public appearance. His fluffy hair was now dyed a honey golden.

Hoseok closed the door behind him, pulling his shoes off. "Darling, I'm home."

Taehyung turned. "Oh! Hey, I didn't hear you come in."

"Yes, because you were so caught up in your painting. What is it this time, hm?"

Hoseok peeked at it. He was going to compliment the work, but then he noticed a shaky line of paint in a place where it wasn't supposed to be. He then looked at Taehyung's hands: his right hand, holding the brush, was shaking.

Even after 10 years of physical therapy, Taehyung's hands hadn't fully healed. His hands were the entry point for the poison, and thus the most damaged. They didn't shake as much as they used to before. It was more frequent now when Taehyung was stressed—which was often. He was also a king.

Taehyung put the paintbrush down. "I hate this," he muttered, grabbing his right hand with his left. Both hands trembled, but the right one had it worse.

Taehyung could still paint and play violin. But sometimes his hands would shake and that would make it difficult. He'd get frustrated by it. Too many times in the past decade, Hoseok had had to wipe Taehyung's tears and hold him, unable to provide sufficient comfort as replacement for the comfort that art used to give.

It was a process. And Hoseok intended to be there for every step of it.

"I'm sorry," Hoseok said. He grabbed Taehyung's hands in his own, holding them gently. "What are you worried about?"

"This country," Taehyung answered. "Nothing specific, Seok. The usual."

Hoseok swallowed and nodded. "I'll make you some tea. It'll help you relax."

Taehyung shook his head. "Finish this painting with me."

"I thought you were going to make this one another anonymous painting?"

After marrying Hoseok, Taehyung had become King as well, and his paintings sold for tons. But he didn't like the way that they only sold because he was King. So, he'd come up with an alias: V. V sold his paintings and they were quite popular as well, but only for the talent. The whole country wanted to know the mystery painter's identity, unaware that it was one of their own kings.