The village feared him. They had a right to fear him.
Despite being a couple steps down from his high ranking of a prince, he still introduced his power. Surely, it was only a matter of time until the villagers understand the gravity of their visit. This wasn't just some mere inspection from the kindness of the king.
If there was alarming information on a Goguryeo spy within Baekje, then this wasn't any laughing matter. And Yongbok hoped that the villagers knew that. They should. If they valued their lives.
They settled in the forest near the town. One of the higher-ranking guards suggested that Yongbok take a building that the village leader offered, but the prince was too much of a paranoid bastard to even think about staying in the village. So he opted to stay with the guards, thankfully taking a tent for himself. While he didn't trust them any more than the villagers, at least they'd come to his aid if there was ever a chance of an attack.
Within days, Yongbok ordered the guards to snoop around the village, bribe villagers, take in the gossip—anything that would help them get back to Ungjin quicker. To keep it inconspicuous but clear. They didn't want to reveal their purpose but suggest to the villagers of their intentions.
However, two days passed, and the guards always came back with nothing. They were always mere local gossips: a farmer caught cheating on his wife, someone falling into the nearby river, stolen goods and such.
So Yongbok took it into his own hands. If he wanted something done, he had to do it himself. Besides, a walk around the village early in the morning wouldn't hurt. And he was tired of being stuck in the camp all day long. In all honesty, he missed the lectures and the overbearing scholars, the officials and the intimidating comfort of the palace. Here, camped out in the forest, was nothing but boredom and the sounds of captains ordering their soldiers and the early clamors of the company waking up.
The sun was barely out, shining so prettily upon the forest and the village.
The villagers bowed to him when he and the recruit—Chan walked past, the freckled prince smiling thinly and nodding to whoever bowed.
The village seemed normal enough. Farmers waking up early to prepare for a long day of labor, starting with the breakfast they cooked for themselves and their families. It was quiet, nothing more on the streets than people passing by or the occasional dog that padded along.
Though he recognized a familiar farmer hobbling along the path ahead, a basket of radishes under his arm as he winced in pain from walking. His dark hair fell over his eyes, sighing when he recognized Yongbok approaching him, stopping in his track to allow the prince and the guard to walk by. But the young prince didn't mind the frown directed toward him. Not at all. Not the scowl, or the glare, or the passive-aggressive bow either.
He was, after all, only released yesterday. Yongbok didn't expect the farmer to show even a hint of respect toward him.
"How's your back?" Yongbok questions with a hum, standing before the farmer who kept his eyes low.
"Fine," he mutters, before bowing again, walking past to which Yongbok scoffs. The freckled prince turns to the curly-haired guard beside him, arching an eyebrow and gesturing to the farmer.
"What's his name again?"
"Seo Changbin, your highness." Chan clears his throat, Yongbok sighing as he runs after the hobbling man.
"Why the long face, Seo Changbin? Here, let me help you with that—"
"I can do it myself. There's no need to burden yourself." Changbin was borderline talking disrespectfully, a mockery upon the younger's status, he supposes. But Yongbok ignored it, instead skipping along and standing in front of Changbin. The shorter halts, glaring at the freckled prince with a sigh.
"How was your stay at the stables? I hope the guards didn't treat you poorly."
"Please leave me alone," Changbin bows again, stepping to the side and walking past Yongbok.
"Why? You seemed intent on interfering the other day. Now, look what happened." The freckled prince followed him with a small hum. "Why did you defend that man? Do you know him?"
Changbin doesn't answer this time, and Yongbok decides to push it further. A nudge or a shove, he didn't care. If he could provoke Changbin enough, maybe that'd get the farmer to spill. Anger made people do stupid things, after all.
"I hope you know why we're here. We've come to inspect the village. That includes you and your family, and if none of you speak up, we'd have to take on extreme measures." Yongbok noticed Changbin glance up but continued on walking. "And right now, I'm suspecting a lot from you. Especially since you made quite a scene in the first hour of our arrival. Don't you think?"
"I don't think you from the capital don't understand the meaning of community." Changbin stops walking, turning to Yongbok with an irritating huff and a gesture with his head. "I suggest you leave before any of you stick yourselves in places you don't belong."
"Is that a threat?" The prince arched an eyebrow, Changbin rolling his eyes.
"It could be anything you want it to be," Changbin retaliates, the taller scoffing and gesturing to Chan.
"Give him your sword."
"I don't have time for this," Changbin says, though Chan was quick to block him from walking, unsheathing his sword and handing it to the farmer. "We have jobs, you know."
"I know." Yongbok hums, unsheathing his weapon as Chan takes the basket of radishes from Changbin and pushes him toward the freckled prince. Changbin immediately hisses at him, trying to retrieve his basket of radishes. But seeing that the curly-haired guard wouldn't budge—Yongbok had the right to suspect him. Anything he said or did wasn't that of a normal villager, surely, he must be the spy they were looking for.
And it made sense, too. Maybe the reason being the guards couldn't find any evidence of a spy was because the spy was already in their captivity. Locked in a shed, named Seo Changbin.
The said man glances at the sword in his grasp, tilting it and glancing up at Yongbok with furrowed eyebrows.
"Farmers aren't the only ones that have jobs, you know," Yongbok says, raising his sword with both hands before circling the farmer. The latter keeps his eyes on him, turning whenever Yongbok left his field of vision. "I, for example, have to get rid of irritating problems that jump up occasionally."
"What are you? A rat exterminator?" Changbin asks, Yongbok halting with a breath of a laugh.
"I never thought of that, but yes. In ways, I am." The prince clears his throat before he lunged forward, swinging his sword at Changbin that the latter dodges, jumping and retaliating with his own attack the prince parried. Changbin hisses, taking multiple steps forward and going on the offensive. He spins to land a harsher blow, Yongbok stumbling back at the unexpected attack.
He didn't think Changbin would know how to fight. He is a farmer. Is he?
Yongbok had his doubts, and Changbin looked the part. Though even a wolf in sheep's clothing can't hide its claws.
To test his suspicions further, Yongbok swung his sword, Changbin ducking or dodging each swipe effectively, quick on his feet and parrying each attack that successfully hit. The screeching argument between the two swords rang in Yongbok's ears, watching Changbin carefully with narrowed eyes after he takes a step back, taking a stance and circling each other with a quiet huff.
"You know how to fight," Yongbok says with a nod, Changbin grimacing at the lingering pain in his back. Good thing the guards flogged him. He could only imagine the farmer's capabilities at his fullest. "Impressive for a normal farmer."
"Sometimes we have to protect ourselves from bandits." Changbin huffs, furrowing his eyebrows. "And wild animals."
Yes, that was an excuse. A damn good one, at that. But Yongbok didn't think that wild animals or bandits needed fancy sword skills to fend off. Surely, no farmer would ever learn how to fight properly in the middle of the country. Unless they also wanted to fight the barley.
Using this moment's distraction, Changbin kicks Yongbok back, air getting knocked out of him as the freckled prince landing backward into the dirt. He blinks up, trying to scramble to his feet before Changbin points the sword down at him with glare.
Changbin didn't move, and neither did Yongbok—well, Yongbok couldn't even move. If he did, a sword would lodge into his throat.
Yongbok wouldn't admit it, but he breathed out a sigh of relief when Chan gripped Changbin's wrist, yanking him backward and disarming the farmer. Or rather—'farmer.' By the way Changbin stared down at him, it wouldn't surprise him if the shorter killed him then and there. But he didn't put much of a fight against Chan, yanking himself away from the older's grasp with a scoff.
"I know this village is under the protection of Baekje," Changbin mutters, narrow eyes never leaving Yongbok. He dusts off his earthy handbook, clenching his fists. "But we've done fine without royal interference for years. We've paid tribute, we survived without guards. You threatening and harassing us without at least an explanation makes you no better than the bandits that live around here."
When Yongbok didn't answer, Changbin hesitates before bowing, taking back his basket of radishes and leaving the two.