Chapter Eighteen

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The sun was beginning to set behind the mountains as the group of weary travelers finally put out the last of the flames that had engulfed two of their carriages. Unfortunately, those had been the carriages with their food and tents, leaving then men starving and without shelter. Among those men were both Prince Minho and Prince Jisung, who Captain Namjoon had ordered to stick together.

Prince Minho's arm was in a sling that wrapped around his neck, his injured arm cradled to his body. He sat before a small blaze of warmth, staring into it as men moved around him. Prince Jisung sat beside him, sharpening a silver blade.

"Would you stop that!" Namjoon muttered as he walked by, carrying a large basket of silks. "It's really aggravating!"

Jisung just glanced at him, shrugged, and kept sharpening his knife. Namjoon sighed and carried on.

By the time everything was set up around the camp, there was not the slightest amount of light in the sky. The crackling flames sent dancing shadows across the men's face as they huddled together for warmth. Their tents had been burnt, leaving them only with cloth to sleep on. And of course, there were only enough to keep half the men warm, so they resorted to sharing. One mat, two men.

The princes, Namjoon had decided, were to receive the same treatment. They had to share.

"What?" Jisung's eyes flew open with shock. His eyes darted over to the older prince, his lips curling. "You want me to sleep with the dog?"

"You're the one who smells like one!" Minho huffed, shifting his weight and wincing as it moved his shoulder. "I'll share."

"Of course you will!" Bang Chan wandered over. "It's not you that's the problem!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jisung hissed, lifting his arm as if he were to punch someone. Bang Chan was not impressed.

"Nothing, Your Highness. Just that you are a spoiled brat that doesn't know how to live off himself, just the lives of other people."

"I can take care of myself!"

"Oh really? Prove it. Sharing is caring," Bang Chan sniffed before stalking off towards where Sungjin and Jeongin were arranging their silks together.

"Oish! What does he know!" Jisung whirled around, pouting. Namjoon just gave him a long stare, before finding somewhere else to be. Jisung glanced around, finding the only person that was paying attention to him was Minho.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"... fine. I'll share with you. But just to prove a point!" Jisung marched towards Minho, who had their silks sitting at his feet. Jisung took these and lay three on the ground. One he used to soften the area where their heads would rest, and the final two as blankets against the harsh cold.

Minho watched him work with a small smirk on his face. This kid... four years younger than he was, but so immature. His smile was nearly feral.

"What?" Jisung snapped, standing up and throwing his robes behind him. "Stop staring at me like that!"

"Like what?" Minho continued to stare.

"You know," Jisung said, with a teasing tone that did not reach his eyes. "I've been thinking... you are too old not to have a wife. Why has your brother not forced you to take one yet?"

"I am to have an arranged marriage with some monarch of some sorts. And empress, most likely."

Minho's eyes became slightly downcast.

Jisung frowned. "Why are you so sad? There must be plenty of pretty people around you. Even when you are married, you can still have concubines! You're a prince! You can take whatever pretty thing you see and make it yours!"

Promise- MinsungWhere stories live. Discover now