BLOODLINE // WOOSAN

5

San is, once again, carrying all sorts of freshly baked desserts through the castle walls. He has done this for two reasons: one being that he finished his history lessons early today and had a lot of time on his hands, and the second being that he intends to be the biggest suckup of the medieval ages, and this is the best way he knows how. Tomorrow might just be the day San finally gets to enter his beloved garden again.

Unfortunately for him, once he manages to push the door to the dining hall open, he sees that his father is not there.

San instantly enters a stage of mass panic. Where is the king? Why is he not in the dining room? How else will he receive his sweets and decide that San is a good son who can go back to his garden now?

But, maybe just five minutes after the crown prince comes very close to losing his royal posture and tasty treats simultaneously, the door opens. He turns to see his father, floating in with the smuggest of smiles upon his face. "Son," he says in greeting. "I did have a feeling for you may be hither."

San makes a noise that seems to be a combination of of both a huff of disapproval and a sigh of relief at this. And then, he begins to set the table as though nothing else happened. "Iffen you knew, whyever would you have been here not?"

The king shrugs as he strolls over to the table where his son serves desserts for no one but him. He had also anticipated being treated like so again, but he says nothing of the subject. "Whenever you expect someone to expect you," he states calmly, "you shall meet their expectations not. You shall know this as future king."

San looks blankly at his father, blinking for a second before stepping back and clasping his hands together. It is only when he is out of his father's sight that he shakes his head, not at all wishing for the elder to see his action. He wants more than anything to hear his allowance from the king, but sometimes, living with what "the king" truly means can be a bit soul-sucking.

"Whatever art you thinking? Hark, for I know already," says King Choi, having began his first dessert by then. "You wish to gain access unto the garden by morrow, no?"

Immedialty, the teenage boy rushes forward, gushing, "Oh, please, father! You promised-"

"Ah, promised? Never have I done such. I am afraid, son, that therefore you art mistaken."

San gulps. Sometimes, his mouth is such a pest. Countless times has he been told, and also told himself, that he will have to fix that if he ever plans on ruling Halawell. "Yes, father. I do apologize. Thus is true, for never have you ever promised unto me. Yet, wrongful am I."

The king is silent for a moment. Then, he says, "No matter, son. Your cooking, most clearly, does console." He lets out a good, hearty chuckle and takes a few more bites while San feels about six different emotions all at once. "I kid of you." San thinks to himself, boy, isn't that the truth! "Although, indeed have I considered such matters," the king adds afterwards.

San's heart almost stops. He brings a hand up to rest on his chest, making sure it's still beating. "Have you?" He feels his slowly pumping blood turn icy, like the streams through the outskirts of the kingdom which flow unsteadily in the cold winter. Anticipation has a frigid hold on him, with no intention of letting go.

"...Yes."

The younger cannot help himself but to let out a groan; the anticipation has become much too great for him to bear anymore. "Must you make me wait this way?" As soon as what he just said registers in his mind, a hand pops over his mouth. "Gods! I do apologise, father. How rude it is of me to-"

"I believe, son, that you may consider the situation more vital than it is." The king smiles, knowing his son cannot see it. Although, by merely the words he hears, San's lips part slightly from disbelief. His expectations have been extremely lowered prior to this meeting, so now, as he sees the king being much kinder than he had thought he would be, San realises he knows nothing about the world. "For yet, I do think thus is obvious. By morrow, son, you shall re-enter the royal garden."

The younger must refrain himself from jumping and squealing in excitement before the king. Not showing emotion is a tad difficult for San, you see. So, as always, it's really quite ironic that he will soon be the king of the nation, with expectations of strength and patience. Even as he tells himself this in attempt to calm down, he still manages to blurt, "By morrow? Lest not tonight?"

"You mustn't so, of yet." He says, "Lest no guards shall be thither till midnight."

The smile San was just wearing suddenly vanished like dust in the wind. There will be guards? So, even though San is finally allowed to take a small journey out of the castle, he is still confined? The thought alone is enough to totally deflate him. How come he ever believed he could obtain freedom? In a soft yet scantily inauspicious tone, the blond chirps, "Whatever? Guards?" Keeping his composure proves to be even more difficult this time around, as funny as that sounds. "Father, whatever guards?"

"For, son, I did call upon the production of a gate of new fashion to surround our royal garden. Lest you exit and never return hither, or be it that men hear of your condition and wish for your theft, a fence gate has been raised for your behalf." He grumbles, "Additionally, two militiamen, at any time of day, art to set guard and watch upon you from behind the gates."

San's jaw and heart drop simultaneously. No way. There is no way the place he cherishes most could be so... tarnished. He feels so peculiarly small and helpless in this moment. After all this time, he may get to finally leave this dreaded castle and see his beloved garden again, but is it worth it under these conditions?

But, the royal garden has always been a bringer of happiness for the prince. His very first memory was of the garden when he was three and a half years old, playing under the blooming pink carnations. They were so pretty that he forgot all about whatever he was playing with, his focus only on the carnations by that point onward. He remembers many times after that with his mother, who he holds ever so dearly to his heart, as they would stroll through the fascinating flowers together whenever his father was away on kingly duties. When he first noticed that he was interested in boys, and not so much for girls, and as he first felt the despair and guilt for being this way crushing down on him, this was the place he sought for comfort. And, it worked. Ever since then, it's been a favourite of his, maybe his absolute favourite place, for it is where he finds that he is happiest.

So, yes, he surmised that it is definitely worth it. Simply being allowed access to the garden was all that he was hoping for, so he shouldn't expect any more benefits to be thrown into the deal. He should be happy that he has it at all, and so he tells himself that he is happy. And, who knows? Perhaps the gate and the guards would be beneficial for him as well, though it does seem very unlikely. They might be nice to him; he is the king's son, after all.

"Thank you, father," he says, walking hastily over to the elder. He grabs the man's large hand in his own and shakes it. "Fain, I accept of thus offer. For thankful I am, so thankful for my allowance indeed."

The king looks up at his blond son for a moment. He almost wants to laugh, really, because the boy is treating this as a large-scale official transaction, for some reason. But, laughing at him would do no good, so King Choi stands up from his chair. San, who is quite unsure of how the situation has morphed, backs up. He can only get one step away, however, before his father pulls him into a giant, warm and secure hug.

"For it is such a pleasure unto myself, son," he promises. A large smile blooms across his face, but it luckily goes unseen due to his slender son's fluffy golden hair. "Recall that you art mine love, and thus shall remain true upon infinity."