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After a week in the medic tent, everything smells the same and Beomgyu stops being surprised by any injury he sees – and the others in the medic tent stop being surprised to see Beomgyu there.

God, the chatter that went on within the group of nurses and doctors the first day Beomgyu showed up. Is that the omega prince – didn’t he marry some floozy overseas so he would be out of the way – does he even know what he’s doing – all our soldiers will die in his hands – shouldn’t he be hiding in the palace like the other court omegas –

The grizzled old head surgeon had put a stop to the worst of the chatter on the first day, but it never truly stopped until the first real battle happened and their medic tent was overrun.

No time for idle chatter or gossiping when faced with thousands injured and even more dead.

Lost in thought, Beomgyu snaps a wooden splint in half, emotions coursing through him in a rush and the wave only crashing when a tired voice rasps, “Beomgyu, you’re breaking things again.”

He jolts out of his thoughts and looks down at his hands, little pieces of wood falling to the ground. “I’ll replace this,” he says after a pause.

The head surgeon, Hijo, ambles over and waves him off. “Just take a break. You’ve been working since dawn, go sit down,” he says gruffly, replacing Beomgyu at the bedside and examining the unconscious soldier without another word in a clear sign of dismissal.

Beomgyu brushes the rest of the wooden splints off his palms and walks outside, breathing in the scent of blood and injury and iron. The acrid festering scent inside the tent isn’t helped by the summer heat, but at least outside the tent there was a breeze to lift it away.

The medic tent is at the edge of camp, with a ring of trampled grass around it from soldiers waiting for updates for their brethren. Ahead of him, he can see the rest of the camp, smoke rising in the air from campfires as soldiers begin making meals. He catches a couple alphas throwing dirty looks at him and manages to not visibly flinch. Useless omega prince, he hears them whisper, and he turns around and walks in the opposite direction from camp.

He walks far enough that he can’t feel the looks anymore and lets out his breath in a deep sigh. His fists unclench, nail indentations deep in his palm. A gust of wind wraps his scent around him. He could escape the posturing of the alpha soldiers, could escape the distrust in his abilities, but he couldn’t escape his own bitter metallic scent – something that blended with everything else in the medic tent, but out here, all he can think of is blood and iron weapons.

Just another thing that gets thrown in his face – he couldn’t even be a proper omega prince with a soft floral scent like his mother; his scent stank like the battlefield. The only thing about his scent that was remotely omega-like was the undertone of vanilla and jasmine, something reminiscent of his mother but always overpowered.

“What has my prince sighing so loudly?” a voice cuts sharply into his thoughts.

Beomgyu sighs again for good measure and turns around. “General,” he mumbles in greeting. “What brings you so far from camp?”

Choi Yeonjun stands in front of him, clad in scratched and dirty armor from the battles and skirmishes he already led. The alpha holds his helmet under one hand, his sharp and calculating gaze looking right past his deflection. Beomgyu can smell him, a proper, musky alpha scent like the forest. “You, mostly. The king asked to see you.”

“And he sends the great General Choi to be his messenger?”

Yeonjun suddenly grins and pinches Beomgyu’s cheek like when they were children. “No, I volunteered. It’s been a week since you came back and you haven’t visited my tent at all! I had to ask Hijo where you were. The old man seemed surprised that I wanted to find you.”

“Mostly because no one’s ever asking for me, unless it’s whichever messenger pulls the short straw.” He falls in step next to Yeonjun on their way back to camp. “Sorry I haven’t come by yet. We’ve been overrun with treating the injured.”

“Yes, I know. You’re doing a good job, by the way. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yes, the men make their gratitude really apparent.” He must not have hidden the bitterness in his voice well enough, for his words make Yeonjun give him a look.

“Is there someone I need to talk to?” he asks sharply.

Beomgyu shakes his head. “No, it’ll only make it worse.” He reins in his scent before his true feelings can leak out in it. “Before long, you and father will win this war and I can go back overseas.”

Yeonjun purses his lips. “Well, the offer stands.”

They approach the largest tent in camp, one fit for a king – the only one rivaling it in size being the medic tent with its overcrowding of cots and soldiers. A sentry pulls back the tent flap upon seeing them, ushering Beomgyu and Yeonjun into the main sitting area.

“Abeonim,” Beomgyu greets, bowing.

“Your highness,” Yeonjun murmurs, bowing next to him. He straightens and turns to leave when the king tells him to stop.

“You should listen to this part too, General Choi,” he says from his chair.

Even sitting in a normal chair, the king manages to make it seem as if he’s looking down upon his people from his throne, an air of gravitas around him. A similar bitter metallic scent surrounds him – the one he passed down to Beomgyu – but around the king, someone who led his country through one war already and currently leading them through a second, it was proper and expected that the alpha king should smell like weapons and blood.

He says in a deep voice, “You’ve been back a week, my son, and you haven’t come to visit your old man yet.”

“I’ve been busy in the medic tent,” he says stiffly.

The king stands up and walks forward, standing in front of Beomgyu silently. After a beat, he pulls Beomgyu into a tight hug, armor digging into Beomgyu’s skin but he ignores it to hug back. “Sorry, appa,” he mumbles into the leather. “It’s hard to leave the tent when there are so many injured.”

He ruffles Beomgyu’s hair when they pull apart. “I know. Which is actually what I wanted you both here for. Sit down.”

They sit down more informally at a table, and Beomgyu automatically pours tea into three waiting cups. The king sips at his and looks at them both with a hard glint in his eyes. “I’ve decided to lead tomorrow’s charge.”

“But – “ Yeonjun leaps to say, but gets interrupted by a regal hand.

“I know what you’re going to say, General, but this is the best way for a quick end to the war. And once the war is over, we’ll set up an alliance with Baekje to prevent another war from breaking out. Even the old wardog leading Goguryeo will have to think twice before trying this again.”

He turns to Beomgyu. “I’ve been doing some light correspondence with the Baekje monarchy. They have an alpha princess who’s only a couple years younger than you are. When the time is right, you will propose and take her hand in marriage.”

“What if they marry her off to the Goguryeo prince first?”

This time Yeonjun is the one to speak. “He won’t marry her. I’ve seen him in battle a couple times now. He’s an alpha through-and-through, there’s no way he’ll marry another alpha. They’d be at each other’s throats the entire time.”

Beomgyu looks at the full teacup in his hands. “So, this is why you called me back from my studies. Do I even get a say in this?”

The king sighs, suddenly looking tired and much older than his sixty years would dictate. “There’s a chance I don’t make it back tomorrow. In any case, I wanted you two to know my plans and be prepared.”

“Appa, don’t speak like that!”

He looks at Beomgyu softly, lips twitching as if suppressing a smile. “You’re almost thirty, my son. Eventually, you’ll succeed me and be king of Silla.”

“No one will accept me. No omega has ever sat on the throne longer than a month before they were overthrown.”

“I know you’ll be different,” the king says, looking into his tea. “Ever since Seojoon passed and then your mother…” He sighs. “You know our history as well as I do. I won’t say anything else.”

Beomgyu glances at the grim determination on his father’s face and consciously relaxes his shoulders in acceptance. This was the reason for the alliance marriage, he knows that. If there’s an alpha ruling next to him, it’ll increase the chances of acceptance and lower the chances of a coup.

He doesn’t need his father to reply. “I’ll do my duty,” he eventually says, not bothering to hide his bitter scent this time. “But nothing will happen – appa, you’re still healthy, and the soldiers and the people love you. I won’t have to succeed the throne for a long while.”

-

The king perishes in combat the next day.

The king of Goguryeo sits atop his blood-stained horse, face hidden in shadows as he sneers, “Mourn your dead and fallen. Surrender, or in three days, I will be back with Goguryeo’s full force.”

Beomgyu only learns of this hours later, when the camp suddenly falls deathly silent as his father’s body is carried back on a raised stretcher. He ties off the tourniquet in front of him before heading out of the medical tent to take a look, freezing in place when he sees the stony look on Yeonjun’s face.

“My king,” he greets Beomgyu, bowing deeply. The soldiers around him follow suit.

Blood drips onto the ground from Beomgyu’s clenched fist.

-

Funeral preparations are rushed and tense – they don’t have time to make the trip back to the capital with the king’s body, so they end up with a shortened procession and a funeral pyre a short distance from camp.

Beomgyu remains stone-faced the entire time, trying to not clench his fist too tight or he’ll start bleeding through the bandages again.

The coronation is even more rushed, simply a formality to recognize his rightful ascension to the throne than any real ceremony. Instead of a full courtyard in the palace with the kingdom’s people, Yeonjun places the crown on Beomgyu’s head in front of their troops, more than half of whom were injured in some way or form and their numbers drastically diminished from battle.

That night, Beomgyu places the crown back in its case – his father rarely wore it day-to-day and he intends to follow in his footsteps – and he sneaks out to the funeral pyre, sitting on a nearby log to stare at the burning embers.

The initial rush of anger has since died down into a slow simmering fury under Beomgyu’s skin, his mind rapidly thinking through the possible routes he could take. Despite the decade spent overseas, he has always kept up with Silla politics thanks to his father and Yeonjun’s frequent letters, and now he finds himself dragging every last detail of Goguryeo from the depths of his mind.

Yeonjun’s quiet voice interrupts his thoughts. “Your Majesty.”

Beomgyu can’t help but make a face. “Please don’t.”

Yeonjun sits down on the log next to him, facing the pyre. “I’m sorry. He died taking an arrow meant for me.”

“I don’t blame you.” Beomgyu glances over at the general’s face, half hidden in shadow. “Appa wouldn’t do something he didn’t want to.”

The funeral pyre crackles in front of them, spitting sparks into the night sky. In another day, it would be nothing but ashes and bone fragments.

Beomgyu breaks the silence first. “You’ve been fighting the Goguryeo for a while now. What do you think of them? Of their king’s three-day ultimatum?”

Yeonjun purses his lips in thought, thinking carefully. “They’re highly militaristic and brutal on the battlefield – I’ve seen that firsthand. I have no doubts that he would return with their full force, but to be honest – Beomgyu, with our numbers and morale the way they are now, it wouldn’t even take half their full force to decimate us. Even if the king were still alive I doubt we would have survived another pitched battle.”

“If we had Baekje with us?”

Yeonjun shrugged. “It would be a longshot, but not impossible. They would help, but Baekje is even smaller than Silla and they’re not known for their military, which is why they spent so long staying out of the way.”

“I doubt they would want to get involved now.”

He nods once in agreement. “I doubt it.”

Beomgyu lets out a long, slow breath. “Guess that settles that marriage arrangement. Appa was always the optimist.” He turns intentionally to face Yeonjun, looking at him intensely. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

Yeonjun looks at him warily but doesn’t say anything.

“I want revenge.” When Yeonjun stays quiet, he barrels forward, “I want revenge, and I’m going to marry the Goguryeo prince to do it. I won’t let Silla be destroyed by them, and a peace treaty is the only way that I can see to accomplish this. Part of this treaty will include marrying our families together, we’ll have the wedding in their capital city, and on the wedding night I kill the king and his son.”

Yeonjun’s brows furrow. “That’s a suicide mission, Beomgyu, I can’t let – “

“You have to – Choi Yeonjun, listen to me. I’m an omega. I’m not going to last long on the throne anyway, and if I’m going to have my reign cut short I want to take down the Goguryeo rulers with me. You have to lead once I’m gone. I know you’ll be a good ruler, and the people – and soldiers – will respect you.”

“I can’t just watch you sacrifice yourself.”

“Maybe I’ll survive, you never know.” Beomgyu impulsively leans forward and wraps his arms around Yeonjun in a tight hug, burying his nose in the other’s neck. “Let me do this one thing for Silla,” he mumbles into Yeonjun’s scent gland, breathing in the comforting, familiar scent of the forests near Silla’s western borders where Yeonjun was from.

Ever since he presented as an omega at fifteen, his destiny was written. At least this way, he can take down their most hated enemy with his final breaths.

Yeonjun reluctantly helps him draft a message the next morning, not bothering to hide his feelings in his expression or his scent. They send their fastest messenger with it to the enemy camp, and Beomgyu prays that this will work.

King Choi Beomgyu of Silla humbly requests the presence of Prince Kang Taehyun of Goguryeo to discuss terms of peace between their two kingdoms.

-

Prince Kang Taehyun is nothing like what Beomgyu expected.

In a show of trust, the prince arrives on horseback in a deep blue tunic and loose cotton pants, notably without his armor or a sword strapped to his waist. He’s followed by a group of guards who were armored and weaponed, of course, but even that was enough to start the whispering when the Goguryeo retinue arrives.

They leisurely stride through camp, stopping a good distance in front of the main tent and disembarking to continue the rest of the way on foot.

Beomgyu swallows and walks forward to meet the prince halfway, Yeonjun a half-step behind him. “Welcome to the Silla camp, Prince Kang. We are honored by your presence. This is General Choi.”

The prince bows respectfully. “King Choi, General Choi. Thank you for your invitation.”

“This way, please.”

The whispering had stopped when the Goguryeo soldiers disembarked, but now that they were getting ready to begin discussion it starts again, and Beomgyu keeps a serene look on his face as he leads them inside, willing himself not to twitch. An omega on the throne is a bad idea – he’s selling us out to the Goguryeos – pity Prince Seojoon died in the previous war, he would’ve been a better option –

Either the prince doesn’t hear these whispers erupt around him, or he’s a better actor than Beomgyu gave him credit for. He waves his soldiers off, ordering them to find a place to rest the horses and that he’ll send for them when ready.

They enter the main tent, where tea and refreshments are already laid out on a round side table.

“I find this kind of seating arrangement is more conducive for a conversation,” Beomgyu explains at Prince Kang’s questioning look.

Sitting this close, Beomgyu can smell the prince’s scent – a fresh petrichor, slightly darker than Yeonjun’s own scent of a forest in the sun. He unconsciously takes a deeper breath, filling his lungs with that rainwater scent, refreshing in the summer heat.

Negotiations end up going by faster than Beomgyu or Yeonjun expected, Taehyun easily agreeing to the peace terms they laid out, and even offering somewhat less-advantageous splits for Goguryeo when it came to port access – “for the first five years, while you rebuild your economy from war” – and Beomgyu can sense the confusion growing on their side the longer they talk.

Eventually, Yeonjun can’t contain himself and asks, “Why aren’t you negotiating for more? This makes no sense.”

Taehyun smirks, as if he was expecting this. He takes a slow sip of tea, before saying, “I am not my father, General Choi. I have no more desire for war than you do, and this will ensure Goguryeo’s long-term economic prosperity and relationships with Silla merchants.” He shrugs and wipes neatly at his mouth. “Sometimes a light hand is more effective.”

Yeonjun stares at him, as if he could read his mind and see if there was a secret plot behind his words.

“If I had an ulterior motive, I wouldn’t share it, would it?” Taehyun laughs. “That would be a mistake. Although I would like a few moments alone with King Beomgyu.” He catches Beomgyu’s eyes, and adds, “If I may.”

Beomgyu looks at Yeonjun and nods briefly, and the general gets up after a beat, murmuring, “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” and leaves the tent. Beomgyu watches his retreating back, waiting until the tent flaps swing shut again before facing Taehyun.

Taehyun watches him right back, sipping at his tea slowly. After a moment of silence, he says, “Marry me.”

He smiles at Beomgyu’s unblinking silence. “It’s the last part of the peace treaty that you want to discuss, right? A marriage would create lasting peace. Establishing trade relations will only go so far, and peace would stay as long as the people were happy and business were flourishing. You are an omega king, with no apparent heirs or siblings, and I am the only heir to Goguryeo. It makes sense.”

Beomgyu blinks again, and his lips twitch into a small smile. Truly, the Goguryeo prince is much cleverer than he expected. “You’re very astute. It does make sense.”

Taehyun waits patiently for his reply to the proposal.

“I will marry you,” he says slowly, “but Silla’s capital will remain in Daegu. I will not permanently move to Goguryeo.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Out of curiosity, why haven’t you married the Baekje princess? Baekje has the ports and water access you need, even if it is smaller.”

He shrugs. “I told you, I want peace for Goguryeo. Baekje has kept a low profile, and I expect they’ll continue to do so. They have fewer ports and trade routes. Their princess is an alpha and the union would provoke gossip. But honestly?” Beomgyu looks at Taehyun expectantly, and suddenly feels his cheeks flush at the wicked grin Taehyun has on his face. “I prefer men, and you’re very handsome.”

The blunt confession shocks Beomgyu into laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth and he hurriedly sets the teacup down before he spills anything. Taehyun pops a small flower-shaped dasik into his mouth, radiating smugness from his body and scent.

Beomgyu manages to control his laughter, but can’t quite will away the blush in his cheeks or the way his scent sweetens slightly at the complement, soft jasmine and vanilla cutting through the bitterness.

“I’ll bring these terms back to my father, though I expect no resistance. We can sign the treaty and have our wedding in Cheongju in a fortnight’s time, and afterward I will come to Daegu with you.”

Beomgyu nods in agreement, and they stand up simultaneously, Taehyun walking around the table until he’s in front of Beomgyu. This close, his petrichor scent is even stronger, and Beomgyu can see how dark and intense his eyes are. He lifts his wrist to Beomgyu’s neck, scenting him lightly in recognition of their betrothal.

In front of the tent, Beomgyu and Yeonjun watch as the Goguryeo retinue heads out, the faint scent of rain clinging to Beomgyu’s neck.

“Was the rest of the discussion successful?” Yeonjun asks, once they’re out of sight.

They duck back into the tent, taking their seats at the table again. The tea is refreshed with hot water, and Beomgyu says grimly, “Yes. I’m going to marry Kang Taehyun in a fortnight.”

-

Two days later, a Goguryeo messenger arrives with a letter from the prince with written confirmation of the terms they discussed. It’s ostensibly stamped with the king’s seal, but Beomgyu knows it was written by Taehyun. The same handwriting is on a shorter note tucked behind the official document, the scent of rain and dirt clinging faintly to the paper.

I have asked Huening Kai, a member of my personal guard, to escort you to Cheongju for our wedding, and he will treat you as he does me. I look forward to our wedding.

He tucks both safely away in his robes. “Thank you,” he says. “I don’t suppose you know when this Huening Kai will be arriving…”

The messenger brightens. “That’s me! The prince asked me to accompany you on your journey to Cheongju. I hope it won’t be too much of an imposition.”

Beomgyu waves a hand dismissively. The soldiers already started to make their way home, once the war had stopped – bringing the news of Beomgyu’s very sudden betrothal with them to the people of Silla. When Beomgyu arrives back home, he knows he’ll be greeted with similar whispered remarks. “Tonight’s our last night at this camp. We head back to Daegu tomorrow, to get ready, and the day following we’ll head for Cheongju.”

“Great! You know – my family’s actually from Silla, but they moved to Goguryeo several generations ago and I would love to see what Daegu is like – “

Beomgyu and Yeonjun give each other a bemused look at Kai’s chatter.

Kai isn’t dressed like what Beomgyu would have expected a member of the prince’s personal guard to look like – he wears a simple tunic, with only a short sword strapped to his waist and a cloth pack slung over one shoulder. His soft, sweetly floral scent marks him as an omega, but Beomgyu could tell from the way he walked and his alert eyes that he was more than he seemed.

Their time in Daegu is short, just enough time to make an appearance as the king and get his wedding robes ready. Yeonjun helps him sew leather sheaths in several of his robes, not trusting their secret to anyone else, and Beomgyu slowly gets used to the weight of a dagger strapped to his arm.

On the first day of their journey to Cheongju, Yeonjun gives Beomgyu a tight, unhappy look before he climbs into the carriage. “You don’t need to do this. I could come with you.”

Beomgyu shakes his head. They’ve had this argument several times already, and every time it ended the same way. Yeonjun needed to stay in Daegu in the event of a coup – while there hasn’t been any concrete rumor of one yet, there has been plenty of whispers. After all, everyone knew the history of omegas on the Silla throne as well as Beomgyu did. And he couldn’t risk Yeonjun in his last-ditch revenge plan.

“Look after Silla for me.”

Yeonjun nods, his lips pressed tight. “Stay safe, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu scents him one last time before climbing into the carriage, willing his heart into stone. He carefully avoids looking out the window as the carriage rolls forward and avoids the sympathetic gaze in Kai’s eyes, keeping his head lowered.

After what seems like countless kilometers, Beomgyu looks up and breaks the silence. “So, Kai.”

The other startles, looking away from the scenery to him.

“Tell me about Cheongju and Prince Taehyun. If I’m to marry into this family, I should know what to expect.”

Kai grins. “Of course! What do you want to know?”

“Why don’t you start with the royal family? What’s my betrothed like?”

Until they reach a stopping point for the day, Beomgyu listens to Kai chatter about Taehyun and his father – not much that he didn’t already know already, but it was interesting to hear Kai talk about the prince as a childhood friend. “… And the prince would be an incredible king, of course – everyone knows it, it’s an open secret that no one really likes the current ruler and we’re only tolerating him – “

Beomgyu perks up. “Really? It seemed like he was respected by the Goguryeo soldiers. Though… I suspect respect and fear might look similar to an outsider like myself.”

Kai gives him a piercing look, one that makes him seem decades wiser than his appearance might suggest. “Quite right, Your Majesty,” he murmurs, a corner of his lips quirking up. “You’ve never been to Goguryeo, have you?”

“No,” he replies. “I’ve been overseas for a long time now. My father – may his soul rest in the afterlife – and General Choi have kept me updated by way of letters.”

“Then you might not know this – it was the previous king who suggested a military draft when there was fear of a war breaking out with the realm to the north, but it’s the current king who really implemented it and spread it across the kingdom even after tensions had settled. Goguryeo wasn’t always like this – constantly warring to expand, waging battles on every border. It was peaceful before my grandparents’ time.”

“Your words could be construed as treason.”

Kai gives him a cheeky grin. “Not until you’re officially married.” The grin falls from his face as easily as it showed, and he looks outside the window at the scenery again. Their line of carriages and horses was slowing; a couple soldiers get off their horses to look for a suitable place to stop for the evening. “My only allegiance is to Prince Taehyun. My love for Goguryeo extends to my family and loved ones, and the potential it has in his eyes when he ascends. For us humble farmers, the name of the land and the name of king don’t really matter. What really matters is the harvest every year, and any policies that will impact that harvest.”

They stick to lighter topics while outside the four walls of the carriage – there is a distance between Beomgyu and the entourage escorting him to Cheongju, and while they’re perfectly respectful and deferential in front of him, he can sense the emotions roiling under the surface, bitter and resentful and angry at his seat on the throne and his quick engagement.

In a way, it’s easier to sit with Kai inside the hastily erected tent, two underestimated omegas in the face of rather conservative views on gender in Silla. “Parts of Goguryeo are also like this,” Kai waves an expressive hand in the air, “but Cheongju, the capital city, is better. And Taehyun isn’t like this, despite being the only alpha son in the royal family and the sole heir to the throne. There are cousins and further relations who disagree, but Taehyun keeps them at arm’s length from palace life.”

Their retinue makes good time in the trip to Cheongju, thanks to a string of days with excellent weather and lower-than-usual humidity. Beomgyu continues to pepper Kai with questions about Cheongju, some from curiosity and some to dig deeper into a royal family that until now, he knew very little about. Kai is careful to not say too much, especially if others were near, but slowly Beomgyu begins to see a clearer picture of the Cheongju court.

An aging monarch who liked wine and drink a little bit too much, well past his prime but unwilling to step away from the throne and clinging to past glory. A prince, the sole heir to the throne, who has been secretly influencing most decisions at court for years now behind his father’s back to ensure the kingdom didn’t entirely fall into ruin and chaos. (Suddenly, Beomgyu remembers Taehyun’s quiet, matter-of-fact voice saying Though I expect no resistance.) An extended family that was at times treacherous and ignorant, kept in line by a careful mix of invented positions and clever political maneuvering.

It was enough to make Beomgyu think twice about his plans for revenge – just think, mind you, but not reconsider.

He flexes his arm against the solid weight of the dagger in his sleeve and thinks about his father’s lifeless body being brought back from the battlefield. Just one more thing, and then he might have enough face to see his father in the afterlife.

-

It is late in the afternoon when they arrive in Cheongju, the carriages clattering through the city gates and heading down the avenue in a straight shot towards the palace. Kai peeks through the curtains, grinning widely, before beckoning at Beomgyu to look with him.

The main street is full of open shops and ware-laden tables line the sides, selling practically anything one could think of. The smell hits him forcefully, a mix of the potent alpha and omega scents combined with all the food. Beomgyu can pick out a couple things that are similar in Daegu, but for the most part it seemed like a different cuisine.

The sounds and smell of the city dampen a bit once they cross the palace gates and into the courtyard, the smell of fresh flowers and trees becoming more potent.

“We’re here, Your Majesty,” the carriage driver says, pulling the curtain to one side.

The other carriages holding wedding clothes and betrothal gifts are neatly arranged in the courtyard, with his right outside of the main building. The courtyard buzzes with quiet activity, servants hanging up red banners and lanterns at various points. A few soldiers stand guard at the doorway, bowing briefly as someone walks outside into the afternoon sun.

“Soobinie!” Kai exclaims, clambering out of the carriage before Beomgyu even realizes it. He runs forward and throws his arms around the newcomer, hugging him tightly. Beomgyu climbs out more sedately, watching with a bemused expression as this Soobinie pecks Kai’s cheek and pulls him into a more dignified position.

“Your Majesty,” he greets, bowing at the waist. “Please excuse my mate, we haven’t seen each other in many months. I am Choi Soobin, one of the advisors to Prince Taehyun. The prince will be here momentarily.”

When he straightens, Beomgyu is shocked at his height – he carries himself inconspicuously, appearing smaller than he really is. There’s only a faint mark on his neck, though – Beomgyu sniffs delicately – based on the lack of pheromones, Soobin appears to be a beta, which explains why the mating mark isn’t as intense. “It’s quite all right. Kai was a lovely traveling companion.”

“Of course! I’m amazing to talk to,” Kai boasts, fingers intertwined with Soobin’s. “Where’s the prince? I thought he’d be here too.”

“He should be here soon – oh, here he is.”

All the guards suddenly straighten up even more than before, bowing deeply as Prince Taehyun steps out. With a wave of his hand they stand again as Taehyun walks to Beomgyu. “Hello,” he says warmly, reaching out his hand with his wrist facing up. “I’m glad you made it. I hope the journey wasn’t too arduous.”

Beomgyu feels a sudden warmth go through him at Taehyun’s scent, cheeks flushing slightly with the desire to scent his neck where the scent is strongest. Instead, he brushes his wrist against Taehyun’s. “No, we had an easy trip. Kai gave me some history lessons on Goguryeo.”

Taehyun smiles. “Good. I hope you’re not too worn out. I was hoping I could give you a tour of the palace grounds before the wedding tomorrow.”

“Lead the way.”

Taehyun waves Kai off when he makes to follow them, murmuring that he should spend some time with Soobin. Kai gives him a grateful look before darting away. He holds his arm out to Beomgyu. “Shall we?”

The prince leads him through the covered walkways at a slow pace, but Beomgyu still feels sweat starting to bead on his forehead and the back of his neck – the journey must have affected him more than he initially thought. He pushes it out of his mind as Taehyun starts to explain where things were – this was an opportunity handed to him on a silver platter to plan his escape routes, and he wasn’t going to let some travel exhaustion cut this short.

Taehyun points out specific buildings and rooms, pausing outside the king’s wing of the palace. “There are several sitting rooms, but the one on the far right is his bedroom. It’s mirrored on my – our wing. Unfortunately, the king is indisposed at the moment, but he will be at the wedding tomorrow.”

“On our journey here,” Beomgyu begins cautiously, “Kai mentioned that the king had a particular fondness for rich wine.”

Taehyun snorts. “That’s putting it lightly,” he says in a matter-of-fact voice. “It’s not a big secret, especially not to people who live near the palace.” He adds bluntly, “He’s hungover right now. I expect he’ll indulge even more tomorrow at the banquet.”

Well, that’ll make it easier, Beomgyu thinks as Taehyun leads him to the other side of the second main courtyard.

“And here is our wing. Your clothes have already been brought into our room.”

Beomgyu has to stifle a yawn at the sight of a large divan covered in what looked like comfortable cushions.  At the far end of the room bright red curtains hid their bed from view, though Beomgyu felt a little weird taking a nap on what was to be their marital bed in a day’s time. Taehyun catches it with a sharp eye. “Are you alright? Perhaps you should rest after the week’s journey.”

He’s already nodding before Taehyun could finish his sentence. The walk was slow and steady, but Beomgyu still felt a little feverish. Definitely the journey. His body wasn’t used to it. Taehyun watches as he lays down on the divan, and he disappears for a moment and brings back a blanket. “Here, get some rest. I’ll have someone bring some light dishes for dinner that won’t be too harsh on your stomach.”

Beomgyu falls asleep quickly, only vaguely aware of Taehyun taking his shoes off for him and tucking the blanket around his shoulders, fingertips lightly skimming across the skin where his scent was strongest.

-

The next morning, Beomgyu gets woken up by a servant shaking his shoulders gently. “Your Majesty, we have to prepare you for the wedding,” she says urgently.

He sits up groggily, body still feeling a little too warm for his skin. “What time is it?” he mumbles.

“Late morning. Prince Taehyun is already preparing in another room. The ceremony will begin soon.”

“Just… give me a couple minutes to wake up.”

She bows lowly and leaves the room. Beomgyu rubs the sleep from his eyes as he looks around – he had slept for what felt like two days on the divan, and several chests that he brought from Daegu were already lying in the middle of the room waiting for him.

He finds a small basin of water near a corner of the bedroom and splashes water on his face, not bothering to stifle a yawn. Beomgyu felt much better after sleeping for so long, but there was still the prickle of heat under his skin and the faint feeling that he was missing something. It won’t matter after tonight, he tells his reflection in the water. He checks the dagger under this sleeve quickly, breathing a sigh of relief that Taehyun hadn’t found it.

For now, he hides the dagger under the pillow on the divan, straightening it and the blankets so the servants wouldn’t have a reason to go through it.

He opens the first chest; lying safely nestled in layers of silk were the intricate wedding robes, layers and layers of embroidered silk fabric. The second chest holds the bulk of the jewelry and makeup, small pots of rouge to add color to his cheeks and lips and powder to even his skin tone.

He lets out his breath in a long sigh, before straightening and calling the servant back in. “I’m ready now.”

The next couple hours are spent sitting in front of a mirror getting poked and prodded and draped in layers of clothes, with small sips of tea and bites of teacakes at regular intervals. He doesn’t see Taehyun or Kai at any point during the day, though it wasn’t surprising – he could hear sounds from the next room, where he imagines Taehyun was undergoing something similar.

The last thing that gets put on him is a simple golden necklace, surprisingly plain compared to the rest of the jewelry in his hair and on his body, the servants explaining that it was a gift from Taehyun. He catches the faint scent of rain clinging to it, soothing the heat under his skin.

“Could you leave me for a moment?” he murmurs, fingering the chain around his neck and admiring it in the mirror.

He waits until everyone is gone and the door is shut, before darting to the divan and pulling out the slim dagger. There’s a bit of fumbling with the sheathe in the layers of robes, but he manages to slide it into place in the innermost sleeve – the top layers would be removed as soon as he went to bed that night.

Smoothing the layers of fabric again, he stands in front of the mirror to ensure that nothing seems amiss. The loose flowy outer sleeves hide the inner sleeves well, distracting the eye with bright gold embroidery. He takes in a long breath, pausing only when he realizes his own scent is sweeter than usual. One of the makeup containers must have been a perfume of some sort to highlight the omega qualities in his scent.

Beomgyu takes one last breath as an unmarried omega, the king of Silla, and pushes open the door, knowing that everything would change after today. At the same time, the door to the next room opens as well, and Taehyun steps out in his own set of wedding robes. Not bright red like his, but complimentary in a deep blue with several layers of red robes peeking out from under the outermost layer. The soothing petrichor scent flares strongly before Taehyun reigns it back in, stepping over to him.

“You look incredible,” he says, eyes roaming all over Beomgyu, resting for a long moment on the necklace he gifted him. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Better, but... I still might retire early from tonight’s banquet.” He takes the arm that Taehyun holds out, and they walk at a slow, stately pace to the main courtyard. “You look incredible as well, Prince Taehyun. The blue suits you.”

Taehyun’s scent flares briefly with happiness.

Two guards push open the iron doors between the two courtyards, and they step into a flurry of color and activity and people, all gathered for the ceremony and subsequent banquet.

Beomgyu doesn’t know where to look – overnight, the courtyard was transformed into a banquet hall, covered in small tables each holding one or two court officials, with even more tables stretching out beyond the palace walls into the road beyond. Servants line the walls, ready to serve the food as soon as it was time. In the center is the largest table, meant for them and the current king of Goguryeo.

The king is already seated, sipping at a cup of wine watching them walk in. A rush of anger courses through Beomgyu at the sight of him living his life despite destroying what was left of Beomgyu’s, making him stumble and catch himself on Taehyun’s arm. “I’m fine,” he mumbles at Taehyun’s concerned look. He clenches the hand that isn’t on Taehyun’s arm, digging his nails into his palm to focus on the sharp pain. Almost time, he thinks.

Taehyun leads him to a cushion in front of a smaller table in front of their table, before letting go of his hand to stand behind the other cushion facing him.

Thankfully, Goguryeo wasn’t one for long, drawn-out wedding ceremonies, unlike Silla and their ten days of ceremony. Here, they perform full bows once to the gods, once to the king as representative of their parents and ancestors, and lastly to each other, prostrating themselves with the cushion to rest their knees on. Taehyun is handed a cup of wine, which he sips from before offering it to Beomgyu. He sips from it as well, letting the sweetness linger on his tongue, before someone takes it from him and Taehyun helps him stand up.

And that… is it.

They sit down at the large table for the banquet portion, and immediately the cheering turns into chatter as people surge forward with plates to food to serve everyone. Kai slides over to where they are and sets down a small jar of wine. “I asked the head cook to save this jar specifically for you two,” he says slyly, pouring a cup for each of them. “It’s much better than the barrels that everyone else is drinking.”

Throughout dinner, Beomgyu picks at his food, the fever starting under his skin again and even his stomach feeling unsettled.

“Is the food not to your liking?” Taehyun asks quietly.

He shakes his head. “Just not feeling well.” The food is delicious, and he is appreciative of the few Silla dishes that made their way to the table as well – most likely something Taehyun asked the kitchen staff to prepare for him.

Initially, Beomgyu had thought about faking illness to leave the banquet early and then stay awake in order to know when to sneak out. But as it happens, the slight fever from yesterday was back, and he didn’t have to put on a show of discomfort. Maybe a physical manifestation of the stress of his revenge plan, combined with the extensive travel.

“I’ll retire early tonight, my prince. I think the fever from yesterday is back.”

Taehyun nods, and gestures quickly for Kai. “Kai will escort you back. Make sure he’s comfortable.”

Beomgyu nods in thanks. “I’m sure you’ll be able to respond to all of the well-wishers in attendance tonight.”

Taehyun glances around them – the banquet was in full swing, plates and cups not allowed to stay empty for long. Even the king was slurring some of his words. “I don’t think that will be an issue.”

Beomgyu slips out of his seat and quickly to the edges of the banquet to avoid attendees, Kai following closely. Having the walls act as a barrier to the sheer noise of the banquet makes him breathe a sigh of relief, able to hear himself think again.

“Do you need anything else before I go back to the prince, Your Majesty?”

He shakes his head in a negative response. “Please give Prince Taehyun my apologies for missing the rest of the festivities.”

Kai inclines his head and carefully shuts the door behind him.

Beomgyu peels off the heavy outer robes, tossing them over the back of a chair carelessly followed by the jewelry – except the necklace, which he has grown rather fond of, and sits down on the divan in just two thin layers, one of which held the dagger against his arm. He glances at the darkening sky outside the window and manages to sleep lightly for a short while as the wedding banquet dies down.

He wakes up when he hears Taehyun come in, stumbling into a table on his way to the marital bed. In an instant, he’s alert and tense beneath the blankets, ears straining to understand what’s happening in the room. He hears Taehyun kick his shoes off and climb into bed, groaning quietly when he finally lies down.

Not long after that, Taehyun lets out quiet snores in his sleep, likely from drinking most of the the wine Kai gave them. Beomgyu gives it a few more minutes before slipping out from under the blankets. He reassures himself that the dagger is still there, and walks slowly toward the door, rolling his feet from heel to toe the way Yeonjun taught him to quiet the sound of his footsteps.

Sweat prickles down the back of his neck and onto his spine – the fever had only gotten worse since that morning, making him feel sluggish. He bites down on the inside of his cheek, hoping the pain would give him something else to focus on.

He manages to make it out of the room without waking Taehyun and stands in a shadowy corner gulping in the cool night air. Fortunately, clouds cover the moon tonight, casting long shadows across the covered walkways connecting different wings of the palace.

“Where was it…” he mutters under his breath, slipping from pillar to pillar as he sneaks to the king’s section of the palace.

Luckily he doesn’t run into any night patrols – or, he revises his thought, lucky that the guards were also given permission to celebrate that night. The two guards stationed outside the king’s chambers were slumped to the ground, snoring faintly. It’s easy enough to break the lock and slide open the door just enough for him to slip in.

Beomgyu wrinkles his nose when he’s fully in the room. The king’s alpha stench, too thick and overpowering on a good day, is positively pungent when combined with all the wine and rich food from the banquet. A small jug of wine lay overturned on the table – a post-dinner drink, Beomgyu surmises.

All this he takes in quickly, and when he doesn’t see anyone else except the king’s sleeping form in bed, he lets his shoulders relax a tiny bit. Beomgyu steals across the room, resisting the urge to pinch his nostrils shut so he could slide the dagger out from its sheathe.

Just one quick cut across the throat, Yeonjun had said, demonstrating for him. You need to be decisive. I know you, Beomgyu, if you wait too long you’ll start having second thoughts.

Well, that was one thing Beomgyu didn’t have to worry about. Rage wells up inside Beomgyu at the sight of the king’s sleeping face, hot and furious when he remembers the sneer on his face when he gave him the ultimatum. This is for my father, he thinks, and raises the dagger to his throat. And this is for all of Silla’s soldiers that you murdered in cold blood.

Beomgyu pulls the blade across his throat in one smooth motion.

A small voice in the back of his mind protests, the one that sounded rather like his mentor talking about do no harm when he studied medicine and the healing arts before the war, but it’s immediately overwhelmed by a hot splash of blood over his arm and chest and face and the wave of heat sliding throughout his body.

Oh. He was in heat. That explained the past two days.

“Gods be damned, of all the time for this to happen,” he snarls under his breath, and as if to rebuke him another wave of heat flows through his body and makes his knees weaken, making him stumble back a few steps.

He keeps it together long enough to leave the room, his body taking him automatically to his and Taehyun’s room, instinctively needing the petrichor scent to cool down the heat under his skin. He can feel himself rapidly succumbing to his omega nature, desire and a desperate need for his alpha crackling along his veins.

A figure suddenly appears as if by magic, emerging forward from the shadows, and holds him steady. “You’re almost there,” a soft voice murmurs. The figure helps him along the last walkway.

“… Kai?” he mumbles, finally identifying the soft floral scent.

“Yes – “ He grunts, letting Beomgyu rest more of his weight against him while he pushes open the bedroom door. “I’ll explain later; we need to get you inside first.”

“What – “

“No time for questions.” He helps Beomgyu inside, closing the door firmly behind them. “Taehyun!” he hisses.

Strong arms take him from Kai, and Beomgyu’s body drops bonelessly against Taehyun’s chest, seeking his comforting scent. “Alpha…,” he mumbles, sighing when he presses his nose against Taehyun’s neck where his scent was strongest.

Above him, he hears Taehyun giving orders in a quiet voice, telling Kai, “Make sure there’s no blood leading back here – in case any dripped from his clothes or smeared on a pillar. Make it seem like the assailant escaped out the window of my father’s room and over the back wall into the night; we’ll say they timed the patrols well or something and no one saw them.”

“And if there are any questions about the motive?”

“Political assassination, taking advantage of the excitement of my wedding. Keep it simple.”

Kai murmurs in the affirmative, and Beomgyu feels Kai’s hand take the dagger from him. “I’ll take this,” he says with a hint of mischievousness in his voice, and leaves, the door shutting again leaving them in silence.

“Beomgyu, look at me,” Taehyun says urgently, hand cupping his cheeks. “Are you hurt?”

What was wrong with Taehyun, asking about him when they can both see his robes covered in blood?

He doesn’t realize he says this out loud until Taehyun replies, “As long as it’s not your blood, I don’t care.”

Beomgyu manages to pull away from Taehyun, trying to clear his mind from the very alpha scent of his husband. “I killed the king and you don’t care? Why aren’t you sentencing me to death right now?”

Taehyun’s face softens, brushing his thumb over a streak of blood over his cheek. “Oh, Beomgyu… how could I bear to sentence you to death, especially when you’ve killed the one man I wanted to see die the most?” He lets his hands drop from Beomgyu’s face, only to wrap them tightly around him and pull him close, kissing him deeply. “You are the only omega worthy of ruling beside me.” Taehyun kisses him again, uncaring of the blood that gets onto his own robes and skin.

“Taehyun, you…”

“Yes?” He buries his nose into Beomgyu’s neck, rubbing his cheek against him.

Beomgyu huffs in laughter, the heat only getting stronger now that his alpha was holding him. “You’re really something else,” he says weakly.

Taehyun beams at him, before getting an arm under his knees and lifting him up in a bridal carry, holding him close to his chest. He walks them over to the bed, red curtains tied to the sides to reveal the marital blankets – embroidered with similar symbols as their wedding robes – and sets him down gently. “Now, my omega,” he croons, climbing between his legs and hovering over him, eyes flashing when he breathes in deeply, “let me help you with your heat.”

Beomgyu stares up at him with wide eyes, trying to keep his wits about him despite his mind going hazy with lust. “Wait, you – you and Kai – “

The alpha leans down, plastering himself against Beomgyu to kiss all over his face. Despite his confusion his body leans into it, seeking Taehyun’s warmth. Taehyun’s hands are gentle on his robes, undoing the knots and pushing the soft fabric over his shoulders. He kisses a line of fire down Beomgyu’s jaw and neck and the sensitive jut of his collarbones.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, kissing Beomgyu again, releasing calming pheromones to try and soothe him. Taehyun pulls away, letting the string of saliva stretch between them before it breaks.

Taehyun’s lips are kiss-swollen and his eyes are dark when he stares down at Beomgyu, pupils blown wide with lust. Beomgyu imagines he looks much the same.

“Promise – “ Another wave of heat causes slick to leak out of him and he swallows, hyperaware of the aching emptiness that would only worsen as the night goes on. “Promise me you’ll explain.”

“I promise,” Taehyun replies quietly. “Now, please let me take care of you. It hurts me smelling the distress on you.”

Wordlessly, Beomgyu lets the robes fall completely off his arms until he’s bare from the waist-up, laying on his back with his head tilted to the side to bare his neck in a sign of submission. “Well, you do smell quite nice,” he says, tentatively smiling.

Taehyun snorts. “This, coming from the sweetest smelling omega I’ve ever seen in my life,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss his neck, mouthing at the scent gland where a mating mark would go. “You smell exquisite.”

He bites down firmly, drawing blood and opening the bond between them. Beomgyu gasps, eyes fluttering shut as he moans and slick leaks out of him in an even stronger wave, his body more than ready to take an alpha’s knot. “Alpha,” he moans, reaching up for Taehyun and trying to push his clothes off.

Taehyun pulls back to yank his own robes off and Beomgyu hears the sound of fabric tearing, but he doesn’t have time to marvel at Taehyun’s strength before Taehyun does the same to their pants, leaving them naked. “Hold your thighs up,” he says, pushing them up towards Beomgyu’s chest to expose his rear.

Beomgyu feels another wave of slick rush out under Taehyun’s scrutiny and he almost yelps when he feels Taehyun’s mouth over his hole, lapping at his slick. “Taehyun, that’s – “

“Delicious,” he grunts, pushing his face even deeper so he can get his tongue inside Beomgyu as well. Taehyun wraps a hand around his cock while he licks at him, stroking him quickly.

It doesn’t take long before Beomgyu comes, splashing over Taehyun’s fingers and slick gushing onto Taehyun’s face that he laps at like a starving man. The orgasm staves off just the barest edge of his heat, leaving him weak-kneed and panting, but the waves of heat come faster now, clouding his mind with desire and lust and a need to be filled.

“Gods, in me, Taehyun, please,” he begs, legs falling from his arms in a boneless sprawl. He musters enough energy to turn over onto his stomach, reaching back to spread his flesh and expose himself. “I need you.”

He hears Taehyun cursing over the rush in his ears, and the next thing he feels is Taehyun’s cock pushing at his hole demanding entrance. His slick eases the way, but without any additional preparation he feels the stretch deep in his core at Taehyun slides into him, his body pressing against Beomgyu’s back and his weight pressing him into the bed.

Taehyun barely gives him any time before he starts rocking against him, letting quiet gasps and moans right by his ear. “You’re so tight, omega,” he moans, licking over the sluggishly bleeding mating mark on his neck and pressing his lips against any part of Beomgyu’s face he could reach.

Beomgyu turns his head enough so he could kiss Taehyun sloppily, panting into his open mouth. “Knot me, alpha – “

Taehyun leans up, one hand firm on the small of Beomgyu’s back and one hand holding his hips still. He snaps his hips faster, pounding into him to chase his orgasm and the slapping sound of flesh hitting flesh is loud in the room, much louder than the quiet moans that get stifled in the pillows and blankets Beomgyu’s face is buried in.

Beomgyu comes again with a loud moan when he feels Taehyun’s knot forming, the bulge at the base of his cock pushing past his rim roughly and locking them together. Taehyun comes in hot spurts inside him, wet and thick and finally Beomgyu feels sated, the heat banking to a low simmer under his skin for the time being.

Taehyun rearranges them so they’re on their sides, curling around Beomgyu from behind as his knot keeps them tied together and his come inside of the omega.

“My pretty omega,” Taehyun croons softly, breath hitting the shell of Beomgyu’s ear and making him shiver. “So strong and brave and beautiful. You’re exactly who should sit on the throne. My father deserved it.”

Beomgyu blinks sluggishly, his mind taking several moments to process Taehyun’s words. “Tyun… you – you knew all along?” he mumbles, biting down on a moan but not able to stop himself from sinking into Taehyun’s embrace. His inner omega purrs madly, heat sated for the moment with a thick knot stuffed inside him and a fresh mating bite on his neck. The lustful pheromones are lessened for the time being, giving him brief clarity.

Taehyun kisses the mating bite, nibbling at the edge. “I had my suspicions, so I sent Kai to watch you and General Choi. He confirmed those suspicions.”

He laughs weakly, burying his face into a pillow. So much for all their caution. “I was going to kill you too,” he admits. “I wanted to, but…”

“Kai wouldn’t have let you,” the alpha replies confidently. He leans forward, putting more of his bodyweight on Beomgyu until he’s lying more on his stomach with one leg pushed upward. “But I would’ve liked to see you try,” he murmurs as he grinds against Beomgyu, pushing his knot deeper and eliciting a low moan.

“Mmm… you’re playing dirty,” Beomgyu says, in between moans. The waves of heat come back again, quicker than before now that his body knows he has an alpha’s knot in him. “Deeper,” he begs, and thankfully Taehyun doesn’t tease him, dragging him up with two hands on his hips and rutting against him, never fully pulling out but dragging the knot back and forth against his walls.

Slick and come continue to leak out of him, squelching between their bodies, as Beomgyu’s mind sinks into the next round of heat-induced lust and pheromones, soft vanilla overwhelmingly sweet and overpowering the blood and iron. Taehyun holds him close, fucking him slow and deep, skin sticking to his and crooning filth in his ear the entire time.

-

Taehyun carefully screens him from everything that happens the next day, preventing anyone from entering their rooms and only leaving Beomgyu alone in bed after drenching him in his petrichor scent. From his sleepy dozing on the bed, Beomgyu can hear Taehyun swearing up and down that he has been with his mate the entire night, and Kai pointing earnestly to the bloodstains that prove the assassin had disappeared into the night over the palace walls.

Beomgyu smells Taehyun before he sees him return, rain and forest flaring with lust when he sees Beomgyu’s naked body lying face-down on the bed covered in his marks and slick and come.

“Like what you see, my king,” he rasps, turning his head on his hands to face Taehyun.

He sits down on the side of the bed, one hand automatically going to stroke down his back and end right above his rear in a possessive gesture. Taehyun presses into a bruise, smirking at Beomgyu’s gasp. “Sometimes I think about the more… barbaric traditions that have gone by the wayside,” he murmurs, stroking Beomgyu’s skin lightly.

“Hmm?”

Taehyun leans down and sucks another bruise next to his spine. “Anyone that laid their eyes on you in heat would have been executed immediately.”

Beomgyu glances at him, biting down on his lip at the dark intense look in Taehyun’s eyes, body responding to the lust he sees and instinctively relaxing to take his alpha again.

Taehyun chuckles, turning him over so he’s lying on his back, and blankets him, kissing him deeply. “But you’re all mine, and I don’t intend on letting anyone see you.”

And Taehyun suits action to his words, dark eyes staring deep into his as he fucked Beomgyu slow and deep, arms wrapped tight around him and clutching him close to his chest.

During Beomgyu’s heat – and for a day after – he has servants leave them food and draw bathwater in connected rooms, and Taehyun would personally carry Beomgyu to and from their bed, unwilling to let anyone have even the slightest glimpse of him.

Only when Beomgyu’s heat breaks does he let Kai and Soobin in to handle the handover of the throne and explaining things to Beomgyu.

“Well, it was pretty easy, actually,” Kai begins, dutifully keeping his eyes averted to a spot safely above their heads so he wouldn’t have to watch Taehyun slip his hands inside the robes Beomgyu had hastily put on. Beomgyu was sitting in Taehyun’s lap, the alpha holding him around his waist. “Taehyun suspected something was brewing when you agreed to marrying him so easily, so I just kept my eyes and ears open when we were traveling.”

Kai grins suddenly. “People tend to underestimate how well I can sneak around, and my scent’s not that noticeable especially if I cover up my neck – I overheard you and General Choi a couple times, and I saw the dagger sheaths sewn inside your robes.”

Things were slowly clicking together for Beomgyu, now that his mind wasn’t clouded with heat and lust. “And on our wedding day,” he says slowly, “you did something to the wine.”

“A simple sleeping draught in the wine barrels, but a very strong dose,” Soobin jumps in, miming dropped a packet of powder into the barrels. “I distracted the palace physician while Kai snuck into the medicinal stores, and on the day of the wedding we made sure to set aside some untampered wine for the two of you.”

Taehyun has his hand over Beomgyu’s chest at this point, brushing against his nipples feather-light and feeling him shudder in his arms. He has his chin hooked over Beomgyu’s shoulder, watching as Kai and Soobin explained the plot.

“And the rest was pretty easy,” Kai says finally. “I decreased the number of patrols that night and followed you in case anything happened. But Taehyun wanted your revenge to be yours so I wasn’t to interfere, unless it was to protect you. I cleaned up any blood that dripped from you on your way back, and added some bloodstains to the palace walls and made some small changes to the king’s bedroom and windows. None of us expected you would go into heat though.”

Kai pulls out a familiar dagger from his robes and places it on the table between them. “Here. It’s about time I returned this.”

If Beomgyu tries, he could faintly remember someone taking the dagger from his hand when he stumbled back to the bedroom. “You took it because you didn’t want me using it on Taehyun.”

“Well, I told you – my only allegiance is to Taehyun. And I might have wanted to plant the dagger somewhere for the guards to find later.”

Kai gets up, now that his explanation was over. “By the way, I sent a letter to General Choi with our fastest messenger bird. He’s expecting the happy couple in a fortnight’s time, and wants to reassure you that no, Silla hasn’t fallen into chaos in your absence.”

Beomgyu visibly relaxes at Kai’s reassurance. “Thank you,” he murmurs, hand closing around the handle of the dagger and looking at it. Kai had cleaned the blood off the blade and likely sharpened it. He sets it back on the table. “I assume you’re traveling with us to Daegu.”

“Of course! But maybe in a different carriage this time.” Kai cackles as he leaves, waggling his fingers in goodbye. Soobin follows more sedately, but not before reminding Taehyun he has an audience with a group of court officials the next day and that he couldn’t ignore all of his responsibilities just to have sex.

Taehyun continues groping him, nosing at the robes until they fall from Beomgyu’s shoulders. His scent flares with lust now that they’re alone again, and Beomgyu can feel his body responding in kind and getting wet with slick. “Now, my king,” Taehyun murmurs, picking him up and carrying him to their bed, “begins a time of peace between Goguryeo and Silla. Just like you wanted.”