❝ 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘦, 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴. ❞
Park Ye-jun was a quiet kid. Smart, but reclusive. And one in his life was his eter...
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23一 i dream of halcyon days
༻𖥸༺
The blood on my teeth taste like a poem, like religion, like the sickly sweet way you look at me.
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THE WARM AIR OF SPRING TICKLED the sensitive skin of his face, bringing a healthy flush of colour to his regal features. The rays of the afternoon sun fell upon the leaves of the trees paving their path. How strange it was, to finally feel the embrace of spring on his skin after so long stuck in cold and desolation.
The pace they've set was slow, unhurried as to not tire the horses this early in their journey, and the air within their traveling party was light, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere almost two years ago. Perhaps it was the genuine joy of finally leaving behind the permanent winter of the Banafrit territories. Or maybe it was happiness at the sight of their prince radiating eagerness and impatience.
Their prince was not an impatient one, that the knights of the imperial order knew, but they felt that his current emotions were quite adorable. He looked like a puppy, happily wagging his tail at the prospect of seeing someone it considered dear.
"My prince?" Asked a young knight, pale pink hair framing sunshine yellow eyes. "What is the first thing you will be doing upon your return?"
Athan hummed, pondering the question for a moment before turning to face the owner of the inquiry. "Definitely sleep in my own bed."
There was a round of soft chuckling and muffled laughter as the knights attempted to hide their amusement.
One of the older knights near the front of their formation, a veteran with salt and pepper hair, nodded in mock solemnity. "Words to live by, Your Highness. Words to live by."
Seated upon his white battle stallion, the blonde haired teenager cast his glance towards the horizon. There was a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips at the light atmosphere his knights had created. It was heard to believe that these same people were casually speaking with him when 一not even two years ago一 they refused to even meet his eye.
He quite liked the progress he'd made there. Him collapsing once or twice might have sped up the evolution of their relationship. (But who was he to look the gift horse in the mouth?)
Truth be told, he was going to miss the Ice Temple of the North, no matter how close he came to having a terrible case of frozen toes. It was peaceful, far away from the whirlwind that was Obelia's ever-changing political climate. There had been no nobles to whose sensibilities and egos he'd had to pander to, no alliances to uphold nor any legislative or clergical duties to keep track of. It had been... restful, all things considered.
