Welcoming the Princess + Boredom

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Hey! Just so you know, I'm actually in the process of re-writing this story because I'm not entirely happy with it so...read this version at your own risk 😆

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Kang Yeosang always got what he wanted. It wasn't a matter of throwing a tantrum until he got his way; he simply asked, and received. Surely his parents only had the best intentions, the King and Queen wanting their crown prince to live life with the utmost comfort, but growing up like that does things to a person.

"Actually, I do not think I want to wear green to the ball," Yeosang said, inspecting himself in the mirror. Granted, he looked good. The royal seamstresses had been working on the outfit all week until it was perfectly tailored to his body, but something was off.

"What do you think, Wooyoungie?"

Yeosang's personal guard, Wooyoung, rarely left his side. Rarely spoke, either. "I think you look great in green, my prince, though blue is your favourite colour." His eyes stayed fixated ahead, not even looking at Yeosang.

Still, that was all the confirmation Yeosang needed. "I want the same thing but in blue," he told the seamstress, then squinted at the intricate detailing on the hanbok's sleeves. "And make the sleeves wider."

The seamstress' hands shook as she helped Yeosang remove his clothing. "The ball is in two days, your highness. I'm not sure we can make a new one in time," she said in a small voice.

Yeosang's mother spoke from her seat in the corner of the dressing room. Her demeanour was poised, posture perfect, but her words carried a warning. "I'm sure you'll manage," she insisted. "Work through the night, if you have to."

The seamstress dipped her head. "Yes, my Queen."

"How hard could it possibly be to sew a hanbok?" Yeosang mused to himself. The seamstress' hands paused on a button for the briefest moment, but she stayed silent as she finished undressing him.

Left in his underclothes, Yeosang perused the dressing room, deciding what he wanted to wear for the day. Quite an important day, but not important enough for fully formal wear.

"You can leave us," he heard his mother say. There was a short pause in which Yeosang was sure the seamstress bowed deeply to him and his mother before her footsteps faded out of the room. Then, he heard his mother stand up. Her heels clicked until Yeosang could feel her standing behind him, but he stubbornly kept looking forward, pretending to be very interested in a black silk shirt.

"This could be your wedding we are getting ready for."

Yeosang sighed. This conversation again? "I know, mother. But she was not the one."

"That is what you say about all of them."

Yeosang finally turned to meet his mother's gaze. "And I meant it about all of them. I will marry one day," he promised. "But not now."

The Queen's smile was tight as she pushed a lock of blonde hair out of Yeosang's eyes. "Whatever you want, my sweet boy."

She gave in, just as she always did. Yeosang parents had been trying to get him to marry for the past two years, ever since he'd turned 18. His father was getting older. He wanted to pass his crown down to Yeosang so he could spend the rest of his days in peace, but he couldn't do that until Yeosang found himself a Queen.

Yeosang ducked away from his mother's touch. "I would like to dress in private."

The Queen backed away. "Of course, my love. I will see you later for the welcoming of the princess."

'In private', of course, meant without the company of his mother. But his guard remained. Yeosang picked out two shirts and held them up, draping each in turn over his body. "Which one would look better?" He asked, facing the guard.

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