CHAPTER 87
He looked at Yuhyun, eyes dark and unreadable.
"Is it true?"
His voice was low but steady.
"The rumors outside… about the prince getting betrothed and all that?"
Yuhyun froze.
Before he could answer, Sihyun tilted his head with a genuine touch of confusion.
"Also… what does betrothed mean?"
Silence.
Yuhyun blinked—utterly stunned.
"Wait… you don't know what betrothed means?"
Sihyun just nodded with a blank, almost innocent expression.
Yuhyun stared for a moment longer, then rubbed his face in disbelief.
"It means... it's like… when two people agree to marry. Officially. It's not just some fling or promise—it's real. It's public. It's permanent."
Sihyun's brows furrowed slightly in thought. Then he nodded slowly.
"I see…"
He looked down for a moment, as if processing, then looked up again.
"So… is it true?"
Yuhyun hesitated. His lips parted, but no words came. He didn't want to be the one to say it—not when it was still all unclear. But he couldn't lie either.
"That's why…" he began quietly, glancing toward the wardrobe,
"the prince asked me to come get you."
He avoided Sihyun's gaze.
Then, in a flurry of movement, Yuhyun suddenly walked across the room and began rifling through Sihyun's clothes.
"We don't have time. You need to get dressed."
Sihyun remained seated, watching him. Calm. Still.
"What about the other rumor?"
he asked.
"The curse mark… is it really gone?"
Yuhyun stiffened.
He didn't look back. Didn't answer. He pulled out a robe and a belt and turned around with forced cheer.
"No time for questions. Just get dressed, alright? I'll explain everything later."
He tossed the robe over to Sihyun with a soft fwump.
Sihyun caught it but didn't move to wear it just yet.
"Yuhyun,"
he said softly,
"you're panicking."
Yuhyun avoided his gaze again, turning back to the wardrobe for shoes.
"Of course I'm panicking. The whole palace is talking, and you're still in your sleep robe!"
Still, Sihyun remained calm, folding the robe in his hands, his thoughts quietly working.
Despite everything—despite the rumors, the secrecy, the whispers about him—he didn't feel the usual tightness in his chest. No fear. No voices. No Vanyul.
Only quiet.
Garden Pavilion – Morning Feast
The royal garden had been hastily transformed. Beneath the shade of the pavilion, a long table sat adorned with trays of fruit, warm breads, delicate rice cakes, roasted meats, and an assortment of chilled drinks. The early light shimmered off the polished silverware and porcelain teacups.
Dohyun was fanning himself with a decorative menu card while Taejin leaned on one of the chairs, watching Muwon fuss with the placement of two wine glasses.
"You've really gone all out,"
Taejin muttered.
"You're not asking him to rule beside you… yet."
Muwon straightened up, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeve.
"This isn't just a celebration,"
he said with a small smile.
"It's a promise. I want him to know he's not alone."
Taejin glanced at him, his brow creased.
"But… what if he says no?"
Muwon paused. He exhaled and adjusted his collar calmly.
"Then I'll try again,"
he replied.
"As many times as it takes."
Dohyun grumbled from behind his fan.
"You're oddly romantic for someone who used to scold me for sneaking into the wine cellar."
Muwon chuckled.
Palace Halls – On the Way to the Garden
Yuhyun and Sihyun walked down the grand hallway. Servants stopped in their tasks. Maids, guards, even the kitchen staff paused just enough to stare. Some whispered with hands cupped, others just stared openly.
"That's him… the demon sorcerer."
"I heard he bewitched the prince…"
"They say he's the reason the curse disappeared overnight."
The words were low but unmistakably audible—just enough to crawl beneath the skin.
Sihyun kept his gaze ahead, unreadable. His steps steady, his posture calm. But his fingers were curled tightly into the sides of his robe.
Yuhyun quickened his pace to walk just a step ahead of him, trying to shield some of the attention.
"Don't pay them any mind,"
he said under his breath.
"They're just scared of what they don't understand."
Sihyun said nothing, eyes distant.
Yuhyun bit his lower lip.
He's too calm,
he thought nervously.
There's no way he won't get mad when he sees what the prince set up...
He swallowed hard.
Or worse… he might not say anything at all.
Garden Pavilion – Proposal Setup
As Sihyun and Yuhyun approached the entrance to the garden, the moment they crossed into the space, Sihyun stopped abruptly. His eyes scanned the table set for celebration—flowers arranged with delicate care, dishes steaming softly in the early light, and a chair beside Muwon's intentionally left slightly askew, as if waiting.
Yuhyun glanced at him.
"What's wrong?"
Sihyun didn't respond.
Across the pavilion, Taejin spotted them first. He nudged Muwon with his elbow, smirking.
"Your man-to-be is here."
Muwon's gaze shifted, and the moment his eyes landed on Sihyun, a warm smile blossomed across his face. Dohyun glanced over, holding his breath as Muwon stepped forward.
As the pair drew nearer, Muwon didn't hesitate—he walked up and pulled Sihyun into a firm, sincere hug. Sihyun didn't resist, but his hands remained at his sides. The trio watched closely, tension building beneath their composed expressions.
When they finally pulled apart, Sihyun still said nothing.
Then, to everyone's surprise, his hands moved straight for Muwon's robe, fingers slipping beneath the collar, beginning to undo it.
Muwon's hand quickly caught Sihyun's wrist, startled.
"Sihyun—! What are you doing?"
Sihyun looked straight at him, unwavering.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Muwon froze. His grip loosened slightly, unsure if he should speak, unsure what Sihyun already knew.
The garden fell into a heavy silence.
Behind them, Taejin muttered to Dohyun under his breath.
"...Here we go."
Dohyun groaned quietly and looked away, hands clutching the hem of his tunic.
Even Yuhyun stepped slightly to the side, sensing the sharpness in the air.
Muwon met Sihyun's eyes again.
"...I was going to. This morning. I swear."
Sihyun's voice was calm but firm.
"But the entire palace already knows. They were whispering. Staring. Talking like I already belong to you."
His words weren't angry—more resigned than anything. But that made it worse.