"Your Majesty." Kyungsoo bowed his head solemnly.
It's been awhile since their last meeting; Kyungsoo had regained his health and strength back fully since then. He was beginning to wonder if he would be summoned by his king anytime soon, half-expecting it, even.
Kyungsoo squeezed his hand, letting his fingers to fidget with the fabric of his outer robe to ease down his nervousness.
"I can no longer feel the chill of winter in my bones; flowers are bursting open and the cloud is vibrant blue. I'd say it's a lovely spring day. It would be nice to have a cup of tea or two," King Jongin said, approaching Kyungsoo in long strides. He stopped a foot away, enough space for him not to be a threat, and angled his body to face Kyungsoo.
"I would love to, Your Majesty," Kyungsoo replied softly.
"Then let's not wasting time; there are flitting birds to see, and sweet air to smell," King Jongin said with a laugh. He gestured his guards to leave, urging Kyungsoo to follow after him.
Deadpanned by the burst of ecstatic emotion his king had shown him, Kyungsoo hurriedly complied.
Kyungsoo shuffled graciously, timing his walks perfectly, two steps away from his king. Living in the palace and being a personal servant had folded him into a cautious person; he wouldn't know when the storm would come, when the kindness of his king would be replaced by rage and punishment.
King Jongin slowed down his stride and stopped, sensing the footsteps trailing behind him to stop as well. He looked over his shoulder. "I don't see why you cannot walk by my side. I don't fancy constantly turning my body around every time I want to talk to my royal consort."
Kyungsoo's eyes widened. He gave a hurried nod, and quickly had a few tiny steps to match his king.
"That's better." King Jongin glanced at Kyungsoo, flashing a small smile at the flustered male.
Kyungsoo quietly walked down the pavement, sweeping his eyes to the sides of their pathway. Spring had really come, and the last frost had long gone. It's hard to repress the giddy feeling caused by the smell of green grass and the colorful blooming flowers. The sun had not fully set at the center of the sky yet; the air was warm but convenient enough to stroll under the golden sphere.
"Today is a beautiful day," King Jongin lightly started a conversation, tilting his head to look at his concubine, who seemingly was in his own world he didn't realize there were eyes fastened on him.
Kyungsoo raise his head to stare at the clear blue sky, almost automatically responded, "Yes, Your Majesty..."
The cherry blossoms' puffy white buds had not bloomed yet. He couldn't wait to walk under the canopies of flowers, drenched in pale calamine petal rain cascading from the swaying trees on the sides of stone pavement.
"Tell me about your spring days," King Jongin's voice brought him back from his thoughts.
"M-my spring days, Your Majesty?" Perplexed and not ready by the sudden interference, Kyungsoo stuttered.
"Your spring days. Or rather, what you used to do during spring. What you loved about spring, before entering the palace." King Jongin slowed down his walk, subtlety gazing at his concubine, gesturing that he was ready for a long answer.
Kyungsoo breathed slowly to calm down the jittery feeling and pushed his mind to think of something about his past. "I loved to watch life coming back to the lake, Your Majesty," he at last said.
"It felt as though something was binding my eyes tight during winter, only allowing me to see lots of white and grey. It loosened itself as spring came and set my eyes free; suddenly everything I saw was richer in color." Kyungsoo's eyes shone as he remembered his hometown.
"There were worries and sadness too, of course." Kyungsoo paused. He cast a short glance toward King Jongin to reassure that he was allowed to continue, that his life story was worthy of his king's valuable time. Meeting King Jongin's deep gaze, he breathed sharply.
"Go on," King Jongin urged him to continue.
Kyungsoo quickly bowed. "My father could not do his work during winter," he started, carefully keeping his eyes away from King Jongin.
"We barely had anything left to live after the long coldness ended. Spring had just begun when he bid my mother and I goodbye, leaving us for almost the entire season to travel from town to town to keep the roof over our heads." Kyungsoo managed to form a small smile, trying his best not to tremble. Fastening his eyes at the cherry blossom trees, he stared at the coppery brown leaves, trailing his gaze to the dampened branches.
"I used to hate spring, because it took my father away from us," he quietly said. "But the busy days ahead helped me not to think too much about it; there were crops to plant and to be taken care of," he continued more cheerfully.
Forsythias bushes were welcoming them, lining up along the way like a living gate. They nearly reached to their destination, Kyungsoo noticed. His lips slowly curled up into a smile as his eyes swept over the sea of cheerful yellow.
King Jongin held his step to absorb what he just heard. "To me, spring is not entirely a blithesome season either," he stated, startling Kyungsoo that the boy spontaneously whipped his head to look at him.
"Manchuria problems, you may say," King Jongin went on with a small laugh, continuing to stride slowly.
"The bone chilling coldness seemingly always breaks their last straw of patience; they could not wait to invade our border, trying to pave their way into our land to fill their stomachs with warm food." Outstretching his arm, King Jongin caressed the yellow leaves caught in his hand as he walked. "Not that they don't make any attempt during winter, of course," he chuckled, "But rather than us, their freezing bones and muscles have become their biggest enemy in snow season; they have lost their own battle before they can be a worthy threat."
He paused awhile, before speaking again. "When I see snow melting away from the land, I think about how the temperature will be greatly increased in a matter of days, and I will wonder if it's warm enough for our enemies from north to have a long journey and start a war." King Jongin's playful act dispersed. For a brief moment his eyes hardened.
Getting nearer to the Pavilion of the Stone Garden, King Jongin stopped. The place was a bridge away from them. King Jongin sighed in satisfaction, smelling the nice scent of spring. His expression softened. "But of course, there are days, too beautiful days it would be such a waste to think about what may or may not happen; I'd rather push such matter aside and simply enjoy what nature have given us." He chanced a glance at Kyungsoo. "A day when I get to have a cup of tea with such a beautiful man in a lovely morning, for an example." Upon seeing those reddened cheeks his smile grew. He urged Kyungsoo to have his way first.
"Like I said, today is a beautiful day."
***
A palace servant bowed his head and ushered them to the table at the center of the pavilion, which was well-thoughtfully placed to face the core beautifulness of the grand royal garden and its stone pond.
Another servant came in, placing a tray of tea and sweets as they had their seats. Out of habit, Kyungsoo pressed his fingers against the ceramics to check the temperature of the pot, and after he made sure it was at its perfect heat, he took a cup and poured the tea into it. The low clear bell sound of the liquid broke the silence of their surroundings.
Kyungsoo knitted his eyebrows, realizing right away that it was not King Jongin's preference of tea. He stared at the clear cherry red color in the ceramic cup, unsure what to do with it. Sensing the curious eyes on him, he hesitantly bowed his head and offered the cup to King Jongin with two hands.
King Jongin took his tea and calmly had a small sip. Parting his lips a bit from it, he took a glance at Kyungsoo over the rim of his cup. "What's the matter?" he asked, knowing that something was disturbing Kyungsoo's mind.
"Berry tea...?" Kyungsoo mumbled, staring at his own cup. His tone of voice was slightly raised at the edge, as if he became unsure in the middle of his statement and decided to change it into a question half-way.
"Yes." The response was short and firm, nonetheless it made Kyungsoo's confusion grow. The frown lines between the boy's eyes sharpened.
"I just... I never saw Your Majesty drinking tea from berries," Kyungsoo stammered. "I thought Your Majesty did not like it."
King Jongin took another sip before placing his cup down on the table. "I don't."
To see the confused look on Kyungsoo's face, King Jongin curled up the corners of his lips. "But you do," he calmly stated, holding Kyungsoo's eyes with his penetrating gaze.
"Next time, make me this tea when I visit you."
"I understand, Your Majesty," Kyungsoo murmured. He hung his head low, feeling heat spreading across his cheeks.
***
Since then, King Jongin often summoned Kyungsoo to accompany him at the King's Quarter, or sometimes at his study room. As a consort, Kyungsoo had prepared himself for anything his king ordered him to do, but to his confusion, all King Jongin wanted was to talk. He urged Kyungsoo to tell everything about him, asking him things about his life.
Sometimes Kyungsoo was summoned before his king for nothing; King Jongin would tell him to sit and do anything he wanted, while he was reading daily reports from his officials. Afterward, King Jongin would thank Kyungsoo for his company and he would allow him to go back to Royal Consort's Residence.
At first, the uncertainty of the situation left Kyungsoo anxious, but after several times he started to get used to it, and gradually the weariness in his heart died down.
Little did Kyungsoo know, King Jongin's eyes were always fixed on him, and when they talked, he would get to learn bit by bit about his royal consort.
King Jongin would casually ask about what Kyungsoo was going to do that day, and Kyungsoo would show him books, scrolls, or scripts he was reading, or tell his king about his half-done paintings, new board games, or anything drew out his interest at that time.
Shortly King Jongin found out that Kyungsoo took varied liking to almost everything. As he learned more about his royal consort, he realized that Kyungsoo held such a huge passion in him. The boy's eagerness to know all mesmerized him, yet at the same it left him with an uneasy feeling, afraid that Kyungsoo might be seeing too much. He might have already.
King Jongin clasped his hands tightly together, resisting the urge to cover the boy's eyes under his palms and make him look away from seeing the world. Look at me. Only look at me. Stay by my side.
It's getting harder to keep his promise.
***
That day, Kyungsoo was summoned to join King Jongin in his private library, and as usual, King Jongin gestured him to sit down on the cushion across of his table, telling him to do anything he liked.
Kyungsoo tried to read, but he could hardly manage to focus his eyes on the writing. Stealing glances at King Jongin, he threw a concern look. Something was troubling King Jongin's peace of mind; he was reading a report, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sharp sigh. The heaviness of his expression had moved something inside Kyungsoo's heart, urging him to do something to wipe off the burden from his face.
He put down the scroll in his hand. "Your Majesty look tired," Kyungsoo quietly said, keeping his voice low not to break his king's attention.
King Jongin brought his eyes back from the report and looked at his concubine. "I'm fine. I'm almost done." He reassured Kyungsoo with a smile.
"Would Your Majesty like to take a little break, and hear me play a song?"
"Play music? Can you?"
"Now I can." Kyungsoo smiled. "As a consort I need to learn everything necessary to entertain Your Majesty. I was taught about everything Your Majesty might take a fond of," he said simply, and upon seeing the look on King Jongin's face, Kyungsoo hurriedly added, "But I don't mind. I like music. When I was a child, I loved to see musical groups performing on the street, watching them skillfully playing their instruments. But of all the things I was allowed to learn, singing and playing music were not on the list. My father forbad me; he reasoned that they would only convince people more that I was born to entertain men."
King Jongin was lost for words. The soft bitterness in Kyungsoo's words stung him.
"You don't have to play any music for me, Kyungsoo," he at last responded.
"But I want to. I'd love to," Kyungsoo insisted. "Besides, what's the purpose of all I have learned, if the only person I would ever sing and play music for refuses to hear me?" he went on gently.
Their eyes met, and King Jongin could see the determination in Kyungsoo's eyes. The tension in his shoulders eased up. "Let's hear you play, then."
Kyungsoo gave a bow and went out of the study room after he got the permission to do so. He came back with a music instrument in his arms; a long paulownia board, with silk strings attached vertically on top of it. Kyungsoo bowed and sat down, then he prepared the instrument.
"Please allow me to play a song about hope. An old proverb says, 'Even in the darkness, there are flowers which are able to bloom still." He took a deep breath and started to play.
Kyungsoo mesmerized him.
King Jongin stared at the small figure before him, his eyes were transfixed on the slender fingers dancing across the instrument, slowly, and then marvelously fast; shaking, bending, and vibrating the strings, producing rich and delicate sound that brought heaven into his ears. The boy hadn't realized that he was actually talking about himself. He was the blooming flower in the dark. Even after everything he had done to Kyungsoo, the boy still managed to grow beautifully.
Sitting in front of him, Kyungsoo was so close to him, yet felt days away. Every time Kyungsoo was within an arm reach from him, his scent would linger dangerously close at the edge of his sane mind, coaxing him to break into his pathetic temper. The need to hold Kyungsoo in his arms was almost unbearable. He wanted to once again feel his royal consort's warmth against his skin, so badly it made his heart ache.
Kyungsoo raised his head from the board zither and returned King Jongin's gaze, smiling.
Big gorgeous eyes, white fragile shoulders. No more than eighteen years of age. He wondered how a pair of eyes, belonged to someone barely a man yet, could swallow his whole world in their depth.
"Play me another song," King Jongin asked in a whisper.