BENEATH US.
table of contents
• chapter one
• chapter two
• chapter three
• epilogue
xane kyo ✰ 2019 - 2020
CHAPTER 1
on a cold night in koliqure, prince mingi watched the commoners from his bedroom window. he placed his hand on the smooth glass, sighing as he observed them. he often wondered what life for a commoner felt like opposed to being the son of the two highest class people in the kingdom.
mingi hated the thought of everyone being scared of him. that didn't make him feel powerful. he knew what the commoners thought of him. he knew they believed he was some prissy, stuck up kid who was born with a silver spoon shoved up his ass. to which mingi agrees that yes he was born into a wealthy family (without it being up his ass mind you), but he doesn't agree with the presumptions that he's prissy and stuck up.
strangely, mingi always wanted to make relations with the commoners in his kingdom. duke san of balbina does just that, so what's the difference if mingi decided to give it a try.
after the murder of the queen and king of athorny, surrounding kingdom's have been on edge. which, sadly, included koliqure. mingi's father, the king, was even more of a pompous ass than he was before. it was known that the army that killed the rulers of athorny were sent by royal kingdom of ebelance. from what mingi knew from duke san, their king was ruthless and feared by all, and that his son, prince seonghwa, was following directly in his footsteps.
mingi scoffed. imagine that, he pondered.
mingi threw on a long trench coat and his dress shoes. taking in the warmth that covered his body. he enjoyed putting on his coat, although such a simple task, just the motion of it felt like someone giving him a hug. a hug was something he only received on the blue moons the king of balbina would let san visit. he missed the feeling - the sensation of being hugged.
mingi trotted down the stairs on his home before making his way to the front door.
“where are you leaving too?” minsung asked. he grabbed onto the front doorknob before mingi could grab hold to it. “surely you are aware of the kingdoms lockdown?”
mingi deadpanned, “how could i not? father drilled it into every commoner's brain yesterday.”
“yes, therefore, no going out to see your boyfriend, and no going out to converse with the commoners.”
“uh well - first, duke san of balbina and i do not share any romantic relations,” mingi stated, arms crossed, “and secondly, lockdown is just for leaving the kingdom, is it not?”
“correct, but-”
“so, therefore, i should be able to speak to the people that live under my protection.” mingi reached to grab the door handle for a second time, hoping that minsung would just move so mingi could be on his way and back before sundown.
minsung reacted quickly, grabbing onto mingi's wrist wrapped in the smooth fabric of his trench coat. “listen, little brother,” minsung's voice was low and demanding, “believe me when i say do not associate with commoners. they're beneath you.” the way he sounded almost identical to their father made mingi's heart clench. minsung was becoming more and more like him every single day.
“o-okay,” mingi shuddered.
when mingi made it back up to his room and took off his jacket, he plopped on his bed. he sighed rolling over and buried his face deep in his pillow. he placed his elbows firmly on his sheet as he ran his hands over his face. he needed to make a call since minsung stopped him from leaving.
“phone. call prince yunho.” the phone sounded with 'calling prince yunho' before dialing his number.
“hello?” yunho spoke, his voice raw and unused from probably days of not speaking to anyone.
“hello, my love. you sound like hell,” mingi jokes as he examined his hands as an act of boredom and saw that he was missing his family ring. again. today.
“aha, funny,” yunho rasped, “maybe i'll sound i bit happier the next time both my parents are murdered.”
“too soon?”
“too very soon, my love.”
they sat a bit in comfortable silence for a while. mingi knew how much prince yunho had been suffering since the assassination of his parents, and how much mingi had wanted to meet up with him in athorny. still, this damn kingdom lockdown weighed him down.
mingi suddenly realized something, his eyes went wide as he asked, “so, from my understanding, my love is now a king?”
“yes, technically.”
“does it feel powerful?”
“more or less. i feel like a prince. like my dad is still king.”
mingi heard the sadness in his voice, the pure agonized pain that rotted in it. “i love you, king yunho,” mingi responded with a similar amount of sadness, “and the king of ebelance will pay by the hands of the royal family of koliqure.”
“please, don't,” yunho's voice shook with each syllable, “i don't wish to lose any more family.”
tears clouded mingi's vision. the way he felt meant nothing at that moment: yunho was all that mattered to him. “i have a meeting with the princess of erin soon, yunho. talk later?”
“of course, my love.”
...
feared by many was prince seonghwa of ebelance. the kingdom of ebelance shook beneath his feet, and the fear that wrought from the commoners made him feel untouchable. though untouchable to an extent, prince seonghwa was always afraid of his ruler, his father, the king of ebelance.
since young, prince seonghwa was treated like royalty wrapped in gold. commoners kissed his feet when he was barely able to stand of them, but, to the king, seonghwa was just someone beneath him. a commoner of his own blood.
duke san of balbina was seonghwa's only companion that didn't fear to be in his presence. although san was simply just a happy duke, he showed much love to seonghwa. to which always confused him, even now. how could san love everyone so much and receive it back without even the slightest bit of hesitation?
balbina was such a lovely kingdom. a kingdom home to many happy commoners and their gracious rulers - though seonghwa was always mor jealous of san's relationship with his parents. as seonghwa only had one father; one father that thought of him as nothing but a failed upcoming leader.
“prince seonghwa, duke san of balbina is here to see you.” seonghwa shivered from the cold that poured into his warm bedroom. it was 6:17 a.m currently (which was a relief since san has made stops at 2 a.m before) and seonghwa was barely awake. his soft, brown hair creating a fuzzy mop on his head as it drooped in utter sleepiness.
“send him up,” he murmured.
the knight nodded as he closed the door to his room. seonghwa decided it would be best to take in these last few seconds of pure silence: he probably wouldn't be hearing it again for the next 5 hours.
“seonghwa!” a bubbly san exclaimed at the door of his bedroom.
“duke san-” seonghwa started before san swiftly ran over to him and cupped his face in his hands. his cheeks squished together in an uncomfortable manner as san cooed.
“did i wake the lovely prince?” san said rubbing seonghwa's still sleepy face, “though the prince is very pretty when he's just awoken.”
“men aren't supposed to be pretty.”
“your fragile masculinity still fascinates me? you're not a king yet.”
“soon to be.”
“later to be,” san huffed, “but all of this is beside the point.”
san helped (read: forced) seonghwa to stand up. he gripped onto seonghwa's hands and pulled him. “do we need help getting dressed?” san asked. seonghwa rolled his eyes and shoved duke san on his way to the bathroom.
“maybe later.” san shrugged.
when seonghwa returned, san was organizing the small library of books in his bedroom. seonghwa wasn't sure which way san was arranging them, but it looked to be color coordinated based on the covers. there was a glint of happiness that peeked in seonghwa whenever he was around san. san was san, and nobody could change that. though, seonghwa would never tell san that. feelings always felt like obstacles. why place an obstacle that never should have been there?
“seonghwa, do you read often?” san asked reaching to the top shelf to remove a sky blue book titled 'no air.'
“i seldom read. i'm often doing anything productive for my kingdom.”
san hummed. “i sometimes read to the kids in my village. small stories like fairy tales. recently their favorite is a book by the name of 'a child called "it"'. i think it's beautiful.”
seonghwa would have to travel to the library later today and search for that book.
“okay,” san groaned standing up from his squatting position, “let's walk around the kingdom, shall we?”
...
“hello! i'm duke san of balbina. it's a pleasure meeting all of you,” san said waving at the commoners that stared at him weirdly. they were inside a cafe filled with 20 or so commoners - though all commotion seized when the two stepped inside.
“i'm sure they know of you, duke san of balbina,” seonghwa murmured, taking a seat at a table near the window.
“probably. i'm just comfortable knowing that people don't have to be scared of me, for i am just a very royal commoner.”
seonghwa scoffed at the idea. being okay with being a commoner? san will be san, seonghwa thought.
“i will go and get us some coffee.”
“commoner coffee. delightful.”
seonghwa noticed the way every commoner seemed to stare at him without staring at him. how their eyes never truly left him. he knew his commoners were scared of him, but right in this very moment, he felt a sense of vulnerability. yes, could seonghwa just stab someone without consequence? he could. but now as he sat with the ones he ruled over he felt beneath the royal family. beneath the king. he felt like his father had him bound against the wall and beaten again. his father telling him what a disappointment he was before leaving him there for 3 days. he felt-
“oh mighty prince seonghwa of ebelance?” san waved his right-hand in front his face. seonghwa jumped from surprise, then blushed from embarrassment. “mocha or salted caramel? personally, i have no preference.”
“salted.”
“pangjara (dammit),” san muttered as he slide the drink over to the other side of the table.
seonghwa wanted to laugh. being around san felt like a normal life.
“well anyways... i came here to talk about the assassination of the royal family of athorny.” seonghwa's interest peaked this conversation. “your kingdom was... doing so well before this. why would the king do such an awful thing? does he know the confusion that ensued on their land now that nobodies ruling?”
seonghwa shrugged taking a sip of his salted caramel macchiato before answering, “my father is a strange man. he does what he wants.”
san sighed, “i'm aware.” he anxiously tapped on his plastic cup, his gaze never fully meeting seonghwa's. his expression was a bit too bothered for seonghwa's liking.
suddenly a scary thought peeked his mind, “are you scared that he's going to send knights to balbina?”
“my people were not made for war.”
“pong hetya son. pong hepa friends. (we would never. we are friends.)”
“ko awar! (i know!)” san growled. his face stricken with anger, then suddenly regret, “let's just- let's just drink, okay?” rays of morning sun peaked through the fluffy clouds and leaked rays of pretty light on duke san. he looked absolutely stunning.
normally, seonghwa would fantasize about how pretty balbina must truly be. he had been there a couple of times as a toddler, but memories like that become fuzzy after 20 years. he always loved the culture behind balbina. unlike ebelance, balbina's main tongue was called bensis. he had taken to learning bensis from san before the king stopped them.
“not to be alarming, but someone in a weird outfit has been staring at you since the moment we arrived. a suitor maybe?” san joked, but seonghwa didn't find it funny. “i'll go talk to the commoner in the weird attire.”
“eknya (no), duke san, wait-”
“hello, you adorable commoner!”
seonghwa never wanted to facepalm so hard.
...
“no,” hongjoong groaned as he crumbled another piece of paper in his sweaty palms. he lazily tossed the paper towards the trash bin before pulling out another one.
wooyoung rolled over on his bed, eyeing hongjoong from afar, he asked, “who are you writing for today? prince mingi or kim hongjoong?” he rose up from the small twin sized bed and pulled up a chair next to hongjoong.
hongjoong paused. “prince mingi,” he answered.
wooyoung scoffed, “of course, the prince. that prissy, coward we call our next leader.” he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance before continuing, “why not write for yourself?”
“to what purpose?”
a piece of work was hongjoong, and wooyoung thoroughly was aware of the stubbornness that was fear of the royal family. hongjoong was scared of the prince. the blue haired, lanky, mess of a prince named song mingi.
“you know i remember the first poem you ever wrote,” wooyoung boasted with a giggle, “though, i also remember telling you i had no recollection of learning how to read.”
“i also remember you void of all creativity.”
“i didn't ask many questions as a kid, joong, but do you remember the first one i asked you?”
hongjoong laughed leaning back in his chair, “what man isn't below the sky?”
“and then... and then you had the explanation that it was a metaphor for a man who believe they are above god, and i was still so oblivious,” wooyoung softly said, “man above the sky/pale in comparison to man/who believe.”
“so terrible,” hongjoong grinned as he stared down at his still blank sheet of paper. quickly his happiness fled, again, and he began to write for the prince. prince mingi.
wooyoung noticed swiftly. he rolled his eyes in defeat and stood up, “i'm off to the library. waiting is optional but always appreciated.” he threw on his tan jacket and tennis shoes, and padded towards the front door, “and i mean always - always appreciated.”
hongjoong stared at wooyoung for a minute and grinned. “don't come home too late, or i will ground you.”
“wow, just like a daddy,” wooyoung smirked before closing the door behind him.
silence engulfed hongjoong like a warm blanket. except this blanket grew warmer and warmer the more time went on. “what amazing lies are/a prince held captive by his kin/what a naïve prince we bow to.”
“a child in the body of a man/is/a child who just wants to be loved.”
...
after the meeting with princess yewon of erin, it was nearly 10 p.m. although, mingi was already well aware that prince - king yunho was awake. he dashed into his bedroom and ran a hot shower. the fog filling the room almost instantly making it hard for mingi to see. he stripped from all his clothes and stepped into the water. whatever stress he felt earlier that day just washed away; these were the moments where prince mingi enjoyed being alive.
he dressed in baggy close that engulfed his lanky figure and threw himself into his bed. “phone. call prince yunho.”
“calling prince yunho... ring... ring... rin-”
silenced followed. “hello?” mingi asked, hoping to receive an answer.
“min... mingi...” yunho gasped over the phone. his breathing was hitched and raspy. adrenaline rushed through mingi's veins as the worst possible case scenarios plagued his mind.
“my love?” mingi pleaded, “my love? what's wrong, my love?”
“i miss them, mingi...” yunho sobbed. his cries came out in puffs of air and quiet hiccups. “why didn't the king just kill me?”
mingi was speechless. his heart ached with pure sadness for yunho as he was just a young prince not fit to be king just yet, but there was nothing mingi could do. he had no authority over the king of ebelance, nor did anyone else. just sitting and waiting until the king made up his mind for the next kingdom to attack.
mingi sushed yunho. “calm down, yunho. it's alright. everything will be okay.”
“my parents... my parents are dead! how could everything be- be okay, song mingi?” yunho was livid. screaming, shouting, wailing, sobbing, all mixed together into this big super emotion. mingi was sure his love was angry, but his anger was targeted at the royal kingdom of ebelance and not mingi himself.
mingi wiped the stray tears that cascaded down his face. “when our lockdown is over, i will come and visit you, my love,” he comforted, “and i will shower you in love and affection. i will give you my everything, king yunho. do you understand me?”
yunho was silent. “please visit soon.”
“i will, my love.”
“i love you.”
mingi's entire body shook with remorse. “i love you too,” he whispered.
...
wooyoung padded down the street towards koliqure local library. on the day of his 18th birthday, hongjoong took him to the local library to help him learn how to read. he remembered that day vividly considering that was the first time someone actually showed him any love, and wooyoung was surprised. since young, wooyoung was never taught how to read or write because it wasn't a requirement; although, education is free in koliqure.
on the day wooyoung first picked up a book, it felt so heavy in his hands. like someone poured all their knowledge into writing that book. and when he opened it, he felt a wave of nausea hit him. by opening the book, he realized how delayed he was. how dumb he was. how stupid he had always been. he was an uneducated 18-year-old who didn't know how to read or write.
but hongjoong reassured him many times that he was never dumb. his caregivers were for neglecting him.
wooyoung never felt so loved. not a day in his life. not even on the day he woke up from his suicide attempt did he ever feel loved then when hongjoong spelled the word 'apple' for him, in all seriousness, and didn't laugh, didn't criticise, or even judge him.
hongjoong believed that somewhere along the line wooyoung's development was delayed as well. even though wooyoung felt his age, hongjoong thought maybe he grew up too fast - that he had to act like an adult before he was even a pre-teen. an accurate statement, yes, but not a correct one to wooyoung.
“fuck you, dumb bitch!” wooyoung flinched. he looked over to his right and noticed two men on the sidewalk in front of a glasses store with a hard to pronounce name. the taller man (white male, blonde) had the shorter man (white male, brunette) hoisted up in the air with one fist.
“no, fuck you. go back to where you came from, ebelancer,” the smaller male barked as the taller one landed a punch square on his jaw. wooyoung rolled his eyes and continued down the street to koliqure local library. all that commotion because some ebelancer decided to take a trip to koliqure. what a world.
he trotted along the sidewalk humming a tune that hongjoong would sing often. he never had asked him what the song was called though. he smiled: hongjoong was happiness for wooyoung. blissful happiness was hongjoong.
wooyoung often read books that reflected lives different from his own. books where the characters were the heroes of their kingdom, or books where the characters were smart and clever. but his favorite stories where always the ones where the characters face a major problem in their life but overcome it no matter how big the obstacle.
how he wished he could be the hero of his story.
how he wished.
...
“you're the duke of balbina? huh, no disrespect but i thought you'd be more muscular and taller. maybe with a beard.”
san giggled at the commoner before continuing, “so what is your name, adorable commoner?”
“yeosang. i am a reporter,” the adorable commoner answered.
“that makes sense to why he didn't know who you were. reporters aren't allowed to know anything about the outside world.”
“you mean besides the fact that it's outside?” san asked sarcastically as he turned to smile at seonghwa. seonghwa started at him, unamused.
“so, you're a reporter for...?”
“the royal family,” yeosang replied cheerfully.
“... since when?” seonghwa questioned with confusion laced in his voice, “we haven't had a royal reporter since my mother was killed.”
“the king appointed me to be royal reporter the day before the assassination of the royal family of athorny.”
seonghwa froze. he remember his father telling him something similar to what he was hearing. about needing a royal reporter or something. everything was so blurry to him these days that he couldn't even remember the last time he even spoke with the king. “yes...” seonghwa absentmindedly said, “ah yes, of course. always nice to meet a royal reporter, yeo... yeo...”
“yeosang,” duke san said smiling at yeosang.
“yeosang.” seonghwa nodded.
yeosang smiled stupidly at prince seonghwa and duke san. unlike the other commoners that yeosang was familiar with, he wasn't the least bit scared of seonghwa. he feared the king more than he feared the kings son. “i don't mean to stalk you, prince.”
“it's fine,” seonghwa said, “you are a hand-selected royal reported after all.”
seonghwa was getting tired of yeosang's constant smiling already. he seemed too cheery for his taste (maybe ever cheerier than san - which is a scary thought). he leaked positivity and good feelings, and seonghwa would be danmed if san didn't want to take him back to his kingdom and have sleepovers with him. to duke san, yeosang the royal reporter was everything prince seonghwa was not.
they continued to chat with yeosang, to much of seonghwa's displeasure. “you don't know anything about balbina? nothing?”
“he's not allowed to. if he did, he would be executed.”
“tell your father to calm with the insane rules.”
seonghwa shrugged, “i am not yet the king.”
“though a ruler.” san looked up at seonghwa with a glint of emotion in his eyes. an emotion that seonghwa had a hard time placing. sadness, happiness, guilt, hope? seonghwa stared down at him in confusion before turning back to yeosang.
“prince san-”
“duke san, adorable commoner,” san corrected. he noticed the confusion in this soft brown eyes. “balbina is different. we prefer to use duke instead of prince.”
“now we have to kill him,” seonghwa said. he felt all activity in the cafe come to a halt. seonghwa realised that he had spoken too loudly. if he could face palm, he'd probably slap himself right now.
“ah doh (shit),” san murmmered, “all is fine commoners! continue to enjoy your coffee and what have you.” san casted a glance at seonghwa before sitting back down. when he settled, he smiled at yeosang.
“are you really going to kill me?” yeosang asked, innocently.
“no. no. right seonghwa?”
“... no...” seonghwa glared. “duke san, i must be back to my castle now.”
“oh, that's fine,” san responded, taking a sip of his mocha coffee before continuing to talk to yeosang. he looked so deeply into their conversation. deeper than san has ever looked him in the eyes. deeper than any conversation san and seonghwa has ever had. a twing of jealously pinged seonghwa as he turned on his heel and left the building.
circumstances at the castle were worse. the king was busy forming an attack against the kingdom of loverin. his father was just doing what was best of ebelance, he believed. but recently he stopped hearing himself. he stopped hearing the lies he told himself, that is.
prince seonghwa held more power to his kingdom when his father wasn't around. when his father couldn't judge him or call his methods wrong. but when the king was around, seonghwa was nothing but a church mouse. a small church mouse the was hidden in the shadow of his father. the king ruled fearlessly over his kingdom. the king who scared his commoners. the king who beat his only child. but that was too personal.
“prince.” the same knight greeted him from earlier. “the king asked of you to join him in the dungeon downstairs when you arrived.”
seonghwa's blood ran cold as he nodded at the knight. why does his dad want to see him now? surely it can't be because of duke san taking in out into the village? undoubtly so. maybe it was because his encounter with the royal reporter. what's his name? yeosang.
seonghwa remembered how they kept files on each resident in the village, but no matter how many times he racked his brain for 'yeosang' he could never seem to find him. he would go check later if his father wasn't planning to bound, gag, and beat him again. he shuttered at the thought.
as seonghwa approached the dungeon, he heard his father mumbling, a common occurrence. “sir?” seonghwa asked pushing open the door to the cold, dark dungeon. he had only been down here maybe 5 or 6 times. but he could only recall one event. the day he was the one being tortured.
“seonghwa,” he started in a low voice, “did you leave the castle today?”
“with the duke of balbina, yes.” seonghwa shook.
“a café?”
“yes.”
“he's rubbing off on you, seonghwa.”
“i'm sorry, sir.” seonghwa stood at the doorway of the dungeon until his father told him it was okay to walk further in. the room had an unpleasant smell of old, dried blood and decay. sadistly enough, this shit was legal, and his old man just ate it up.
“son, you're probably concerned to why i called you down here? i should torture you,” the king said, “i won't. not this time.” seonghwa breathed in relief.
“tomorrow, myself and our army will travel back into athorny to kidnap their new king.”
“but, sir, prince yunho is dead─”
the king laughed, “of course you know that much.”
seonghwa stilled. he hated it when his father laughed. the sound lacked humor yet was filled with disdain and anger. it rattled through seonghwa's brain daily, making he remembered who he belonged too.
“i commanded my knights to murder everyone in the castle, except their son,” his father spoke with a heavy voice.
“i don't understand─”
“some princes aren't meant to be kings, seonghwa. prince yunho of athorny wouldn't know how to run a whole kingdom alone, and surely not after the murder of his beloved parents. it was an opportunity we took,” his father answered, “after we kidnap prince yunho, were attacking the kingdom of loverin tonight. i need you to man the kingdom again.”
seonghwa's brain felt like it was on overdrive. his father was going to kidnap a newly vulnerable king and after kill an entire kingdom? to what extent would he go...
“understand, seonghwa?”
“yes sir.”
...
date:
sat, march second, twenty-nineteen
word count:
4,536