Hi! ^.^

I am sorry for the long break in between! 

First off, happy late 2013 to everyone! I realised Asianfanfics have updated my age... and I was so depressed that I refused to log on... *ahem* Excuse me for that.

And and... I know I am really moving at a snail's pace, but I will get to the point as soon as possible. Please forgive me if this chapters are too boring and places you at risk of dozing off mid-reading.

Lastly, thank you all for the kind comments and also the subscriptions! Love them~

Do stay and read!

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The next afternoon, in the Korean palace.

“This has to go here! Hurry!!” “Is the kitchen ready?!” “AIGOO!! Why can’t I get this thing up!!!” Beneath the scorching sun in the afternoon accompanied by occasional cooling breezes, a bustling crowd rushes to complete the decorating work in the open space right between the south and north wing of the palace, in the vastly spacious quadrangle.

“The guest is already outside the city gates!! HURRY!!!” A sudden cry silenced every worker as they freeze and stare at the single announcer with widened eyes. Then, with cries of distress, people started to clear out of the place, setting up the table for a feast. Plates after plates of roasted meat and whatnots were transported out from the royal kitchen via a human chain and within the blink of an eye the place is filled with the smell of fragrant royal delicacies.

Sneaking out from the east wing where he is told to stay for the day, a small lithe figure darted around the densely populated quadrangle, peering at the servants while they work desperately to finish up the preparation. Bumping into the big frame of one of the generals whom he hangs out with often, the young person latched onto his ‘friend’ and went into the gathering area, illegally.

As soon as the gong sounds, followed by a loud creak of the metal plated wooden door at the main entrance, indicating the arrival of the so-called guest, all sounds and noises alike ceased together with the muscle movements. Hushed gasps can be heard as a single soft ‘clop’ resonates along the stretch of greyish stone flooring. Bowed heads are now raised as they stare on at the peculiar looking being, slowly emerging from within the carriage park at the entrance.

The person’s previously bright coloured Kimono had been changed with the make-up redone as well, just before arriving in the capital of this country. Pure white satin, almost looking too white to be true, with a hint of pink as the base, fluttered with the sudden strong gust of wind, revealing more equally white layers underneath. Many more ply to be exact, screaming expensive with the intricate but barely visible design on the surface.

The person’s face is unlike any other that the Koreans have seen before since it’s concealed by so much powder and rouge. All attention is on him as he totters on almost adorably, trying to balance on the uneven stony surface. To him, Japan’s floor tiles are somehow more even and traveller friendly for people with wooden sandals.

Wondering if the person is wearing a mask of sorts, a few servants finally moved from their place in the gallery above to get a closer look, squeezing together eagerly on the balcony. The person’s lips are a bright red, skilfully painted onto his face while the eyebrows and eye-lines are clearly defined with distinct black paint. The person has huge raven black pupils, reflecting nothing but the abyss, and that is simply fascinating to everyone present.

Tempted to roll his eyes at the sight of the agape mouths of those dumb looking bystanders, be it the servants or the prestigious guests invited, the ‘centre of attention’ controlled his extra ocular movements with much effort, choosing to look straight while he makes his way to the pedestal at the inner most quarter of the courtyard. The journey in unbearably long and arduous in his opinion even though the ‘red sea’ is already parted for him, also, the way everyone is gawking at his appearance only made it worse.

He would have been considered a magnificent piece of artwork back home, with that amount of emphasis placed on his exterior, but he can see that the people here find him queer instead. This is the moment he tells himself that his days here are going to be really long, though not literally.

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POV from Junsu

After the hunting trip experience with hyung two days ago, I can safely conclude that he is hiding something from me… and his instructions for me to stay put in the east wing today just confirmed my suspicion.

Of course I won’t listen. He knows that so he should’ve saved his breath.

Anyhow, I was running around when I saw the servants preparing the quadrangle. We don’t usually do that even with the arrival of the ambassadors, so I decided to stay and peek. The person that is coming must be REALLY important! Would that be the reason why hyung is pouting like a little girl the whole time that day?

I asked for the reason but no one would give me an answer… then she or he arrived. I don’t even know if the person is a he or a she. My best guess is that she is a she. Since she looked like a she, she should be a she right?

She is wearing this REALLY white outfit!! Nothing like the once I have seen before! But we don’t wear white unless it’s for a funeral… so I naturally inferred that she is here for a funeral. Correct me if I’m wrong.

Whatever it is, I think she has come to the wrong place. We are not having a funeral because no one is dead… for as far as I know.

Oh! And even if she IS here for a funeral, there is really no need for her to wear so much make up. The paint will run when she starts crying… and then she will not look pretty anymore. She really does look extraordinarily extraordinary… if you get what I mean. I can tell that she probably looks beautiful like umma without that amount of powder on.

Why is she here!! I am so curious!! Should I ask her? Why is she going up the steps anyway? She must be some big shot since only me and hyung will sit there. I wonder where she hails from…

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“Is she here for a funeral?” Junsu whispered to the general sitting beside him while the man frowns. In fact, everyone there is now frowning. It is hardly their tradition to wear white for a wedding.

“Aren’t you supposed to be waiting in the east wing?” Another of Yunho’s general spotted Junsu from nearby and started to shoo the young man back where he came from, but to no avail.

Then, with a loud crack of the slapsticks by the royal advisor, Yunho’s presence is announced as the king himself appears, wearing the traditional matrimonial garments. Yunho has never been married though he did have a couple of flings previously. He was due to marry a nobleman’s daughter had his parents not passed away, leaving him to annul the agreement with the excuse that he needs to focus on governing. That makes Jejung his first and only wife, the empress, meaning he has to be present, as much as he dislikes the idea of it.

Staring at his brother, wide eyed, Junsu yelped loudly before quickly covering his mouth. Biting his nails as he watches Yunho take his seat, the younger one could not but allow his jaws to hang. Yunho never had the courtesy to inform Junsu about his soon-to-be-changed marital status.

“Rise.” Yunho spoke briefly, in Korean, after taking his seat on the throne, order directed at Jejung, who is now kneeling in front of him, literally kneeling, looking all solemn like he is indeed attending a funeral. The younger man does not budge even though he understands perfectly, what is coming out of Yunho’s mouth.

“Tsk. Don’t you understand a word of I’m saying?” The king sulked impatiently, in Korean once more. Observing Jejung as the other remains unmoving, eyes fixed onto the same spot on the ground. “I don’t believe you don’t speak Korean. Your hyung speaks it like a pro. Out with the truth!” The king raised his voice a little and Jejung found himself flinching like a coward.

Angry at himself for the lack of guts, the cowering young man clenched his shivering fingers together before shifting his eyeballs upwards, to catch a glimpse of the Korean man, his spouse, for the first time ever. All he caught sight off was a handsome man staring at him with disdain, eyes reflecting contempt. Yunho’s face appeared much kinder than he had imagined and Jejung is genuinely troubled. He had expected a tyrant with thick bushy beard and scars littered all over his face, possibly with only one eye left.

Though the king’s thick eyebrows are tightly knitted together, with his jaws are constantly clenching, he comes off as way saner than his own brother, to the young bride that is, a lot more humane and probably much more gracious. Not one to kill or hurt anyone on impulse. This makes Jejung wonder why this man would make such a disturbing demand, for his hand in marriage.

“TSK. Get up.” Yunho finally speaks in Japanese and Jejung is momentarily stunned. Yuchun hadn’t told him a lot of things, and one of it is the fact that the Korean emperor speaks fluent Japanese.

Not replying, the ‘bride’ bowed his head low once before getting up gracefully. Yunho found himself instantly drawn to the other’s strangely gentle demeanour. How Jejung would tuck his pale hands away under the long sleeve in a balletic manner. How Jejung’s shoulder would tremor, so painfully obvious, whenever he raises his voice. How that exquisite ruby lips would quiver so pleasingly.

Nevertheless, Yunho tells himself that the meek façade is probably what Yuchun wanted him to put up and Jejung would be a downright pretentious cold blooded murderer just like the person his brother is. Feeling mean, the king decided to test Jejung, to tease as well as to humiliate the person he is supposed to hate yet feels an unlikely attraction to. It’s not even related to the fact that Jejung looks bewitching since Yunho does not fancy the amount of make-up Jejung has on as well.

“Did he put that much powder on you in order to cover that ugly face of yours?” The king spoke in Korean, with an amused tone, voice sounding crude and sarcastic. Jejung almost cringed at the insult but quickly reminded himself to maintain a straight face. He has to pretend not to understand Korean and Yunho bought his act.

“Hah. I am amazed by how little effort he had put into making you more intelligent. Why the heck did he send me a useless piece of décor who can’t even speak my language?” “And you don’t even look good enough for me to display in my palace.” Yunho took his time to walk around Jejung, as if inspecting the person in front of him. The poor indignant person had to bite the insides of his cheeks to contain the slowly raising anger. Jejung has a mild temper but Yunho is purposefully stepping on his raw nerve, trampling is the more accurate word.

Returning Yunho’s scowl from narrowed eyes with those huge innocent doe eyes, the king can further ascertain that Jejung indeed does not understand and cannot communicate in Korean. It took Jejung a lot of self-control in order to suppress the urge to glare back.

“TSK. Are you here to attend a funeral?!” “What’s with all this?!” The king yelled suddenly, so loudly that everyone including Junsu jumped a little.

Then, reaching a big hand out to grab Jejung by the collar, the king tugged the outermost layer so hard that the younger man’s obi is loosened. Then, shedding the layers as if they are his skin, Yunho even ripped a couple of the thin silk fabrics as he strips the young man right where he stood. Junsu is appalled since he views this as an act of bullying but isn’t going anywhere since his escorts have finally caught up with him. He has no idea why Yunho is hating on Jejung so much. “Take off this disgusting mourning wear!! You look horrible in them!!” Yunho does not stop his verbal and physical assault.

Squeaking pitifully, Jejung fought the urge to just slap the man on the spot, hands itching as he keeps them rested on his inner sash. Luckily, just as Yunho reaches the last layer, which is also Jejung’s limit, the king halts, shoving the poor younger one to the ground, causing him to topple over, spraining his ankle in the process.

Trying his best to pull off this derogatory act, Yunho is unbelieving that Jejung is too acquiescent to challenge him.

Grabbing the colourful hanbok from his advisor, prepared beforehand, the king flung the pieces of cloth into Jejung face. “Remember, you don’t deserve to put this on.” Dumbfounded as the king sneers this sentence at him in Japanese, the poor young man did not have a clue to why he is being treated so rudely. He assumes it is because they are enemies, or rather, formal enemies and this is the ritual whereby Yunho lashes out at him to his heart’s content.

Lips still sealed tightly and swallowing whatever little pride he has left, Jejung quickly slipped on the new outfit over his exposed skin, making a mess of it due to his lack of experience with the foreign apparel. However, before he is done, the king is in assault mode again. Snatching the nearest clothe over, which is what used to be Jejung’s own clothes, the king yanked Jejung by the hair before chafing the fabric against his face. “NO amount of make-up can hide your ugly face! Remove them! You are making me sick!” The king spat again in Japanese.

However, much to Yunho dismal, beneath that make up is an even more gorgeous face than any human being he has ever seen. Jejung’s beauty is concealed by the make-up, if Yunho were to admit honestly. The revelation of Jejung’s face did nothing to curb Yunho’s outburst though.

Forcefully lugged onto his feet, the Japanese prince is dragged half way across the courtyard in a hasty procession, extremely embarrassed since he is only half dressed with neat hair now in a mess and tickling his slightly smudged cheeks and nose. Only his beauty can compensate for the detrimental effect of Yunho’s uncontrolled wrath, successfully diverting the attention of his unbecoming get up to his face.

All were staring and wondering how this flawless human being is made, so much so that he still looks stunning in those colourful pieces of wreckage and flyaway hair. With milky skin beneath that exaggerated white cosmetic revealed, his natural skin tone is a surprising fit for the colours just as well as it did plain white.

Yunho would rather die than admit the fact that Jejung is simply alluring. All he wants to do now is scare the hell out of Jejung and send the younger one crying back to Yuchun before the procession ends. The humiliation will not stop here.

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POV from Yunho

I know. I know I’m a mean … but all this is part of the plan to scare him enough to make him run back to his brother. Damn that endurance of his though!!

Let me just explain my point.

That devil is unexpectedly pushy and before I can defer anything, today is D-day. If I choose to carry on with the ceremony, I will be officially married and refund will be inexcusable. I had to think of something and fast… but my mind was a nice blank. I spent a whole night devising a plan to ruin the session then call it off, even to the extent of making last minute arrangements, yet nothing went wrong. Everything was smooth sailing and I eventually found myself walking into the zone of no return.

I am upset at myself for being such a loser. I even had my man lock my brother away for the rest of today so he wouldn’t have to see this. He does not need to know anything! He is the innocent party! As a brother, I can’t believe that I am unable to stop all this from taking place. Oh god!

All this is like a freaking nightmare and I am actually walking through it in flesh. Actually, it isn’t as much as a nightmare for me as compared to how it will be for Su… or even for this young man before me. They are the ones who are used, traded like cattles… and I am the cause of it. I am the reason for this two people’s misery and Yuchun, that bastard, is enjoying making me guilty, making me suffer so indirectly.

I had to be nasty. I have to. If there is even a remote chance that he will be the one to call off the marriage, I am going all out to take it.

Stupid lad! Take the bait, you silly thing!! Slap me then go home! I will forgive you this once!

TBC

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