Chapter Text
The imperial palace was beautiful in the way a blade was beautiful.
Everything gleamed. White marble floors reflected the morning sunlight pouring through towering windows. Gold-lined pillars stretched toward painted ceilings where ancient emperors watched with stern, judging expressions. Servants moved silently through the halls like ghosts, and every noble Yunho passed wore a smile sharp enough to cut skin.
The palace was magnificent. It was also exhausting.
“Keep your eyes lowered when spoken to by members of the imperial family,” Master Seonghwa said as they walked through the eastern administrative wing. “Do not speak unless directly addressed. Do not involve yourself in noble disputes. And under absolutely no circumstances should you become entangled in royal politics.”
Yunho nodded automatically, clutching a stack of enchanted records tighter against his chest. “Yes, Master.”
“You are here to serve the empire through magic,” the older mage continued. “Nothing more.”
The words should have reassured him. Instead, they only tightened the knot already sitting in his stomach.
At twenty years old, Jeong Yunho had become the youngest court mage ever appointed to the imperial palace.
And everyone hated him for it.
He could feel it every time conversations stopped when he entered a room. Every time older scholars looked at him with narrowed eyes. Every time nobles whispered behind jeweled fans.
He was too young. Too inexperienced. Too talented.
The last one was what truly made them resent him.
Yunho had spent years studying until his eyes burned, practicing spellwork until his hands cramped so badly he could barely hold a pen. He had clawed his way into the palace through sheer ability alone, and somehow that made him more suspicious to the court than if he had simply been born noble.
“You likely won’t meet the imperial family for years,” Master Seonghwa said as they stopped outside a pair of bronze doors engraved with protective sigils. “Most court mages never interact with them directly unless summoned.”
Honestly, that sounded ideal.
Yunho bowed his head. “I understand.”
Master Seonghwa studied him for a moment before sighing quietly.
“Yunho,” he said, softer this time, “this palace can devour people far more powerful than you. Be careful who notices you.”
Then he left. Yunho stood alone in the corridor for a long moment after that, staring down at the glowing records in his arms.
Be careful who notices you.
That should have been easy enough.
Unfortunately, the universe seemed determined to make his life difficult.
__________________________
A week later, Yunho was lost.
Not truly lost. He knew, generally, where he was.
Probably.
The palace was enormous, full of endless hallways that twisted into one another like a maze designed by someone deeply cruel. Yunho had been tasked with delivering sealed magical records to one of the archive rooms in the older western wing, and somehow he had ended up in a corridor that looked abandoned.
Dust coated the windows. The candle sconces were unlit. Portraits of long-dead royals stared down at him with unsettling expressions.
Yunho frowned slightly as he walked. Something felt strange here.
Magic hummed faintly beneath the walls, not uncommon in the palace, but this felt different. Older and more concealed.
He slowed near the center of the hallway.
There. A nearby invisible seam cut through the wall beside one of the portraits.
Yunho stared. It almost looked like--
The wall suddenly opened. A hand shot out, grabbed the front of his robes, and violently yanked him sideways.
Yunho barely managed to stop himself from shouting as he stumbled into darkness. The hidden door slammed shut behind him.
“What are you doing?!” someone hissed.
Yunho blinked rapidly, struggling to adjust to the dim light. The passageway was narrow, lit only by tiny glowing crystals embedded in the walls. Standing directly in front of him was a young man around his age dressed in dark blue royal robes that looked far too expensive to currently be covered in dust. His black hair was slightly disheveled. His breathing was uneven. And despite the situation, he looked deeply offended.
“You almost exposed the entrance,” the stranger accused.
Yunho stared at him. “...What?”
“The passageway,” the man said impatiently, gesturing behind them. “You were staring at it.”
“I was staring at a wall!”
“Exactly!”
“That makes no sense.”
The stranger squinted at him for a second before abruptly grabbing Yunho’s sleeve and dragging him deeper into the tunnel.
“Wait--”
“Quiet,” the young man whispered dramatically. “They’re nearby.”
As if summoned by the words, muffled voices echoed faintly above them.
“Check the west corridor!”
“He couldn’t have gone far!”
Yunho froze and the stranger grinned.
“There,” he said triumphantly. “See? I saved your life.”
“You dragged me into a hidden tunnel!”
“You’re welcome.”
Yunho had absolutely no idea what was happening. He finally pulled his arm free enough to properly look at the other man, and then nearly stopped breathing altogether.
The robes. The embroidered crest stitched into the collar. The gold dragon ring on his hand, marking him as royalty.
Yunho immediately straightened. “Your Highness--”
“Oh, don’t do that.” The prince made a face like Yunho had personally offended him. “I haven’t even done anything worthy of formalities yet.”
Yunho stared at him in disbelief.
This was the youngest prince. It had to be.
Prince Jung Wooyoung.
Even Yunho, who had spent most of his life buried in magical studies, knew the stories.
The emperor’s seventh child.
The embarrassing one.
The troublemaker.
The prince who skipped lessons, escaped tutors, snuck out of banquets, and somehow caused chaos nearly everywhere he went.
Yunho had once overheard two palace officials describe him as “the imperial family’s collective headache.”
Now said headache was peering at him suspiciously.
“You’re the new mage,” Wooyoung said suddenly.
Yunho blinked. “You know who I am?”
“Everyone knows who you are. Youngest court mage ever appointed?” Wooyoung tilted his head. “People have been complaining about you for days.”
Somehow that was not comforting.
Wooyoung leaned closer suddenly, studying him. “You look nervous.”
“I was just kidnapped into a secret tunnel by a prince.”
“That’s fair.”
Footsteps echoed faintly overhead again and Wooyoung perked up instantly. “Oh, they’re getting closer.”
“To what?”
“Finding me.”
Yunho stared. Wooyoung just smiled brightly and said, “Come on.”
Before Yunho could protest, Wooyoung grabbed his wrist again and took off running through the hidden passageway.
“Your Highness--!”
“You can call me Wooyoung.”
“I absolutely cannot!”
“You absolutely can.”
Yunho nearly tripped over uneven stone as Wooyoung pulled him around a sharp corner.
“Why are people chasing you?!”
“My guards,” Wooyoung answer easily.
“That does not answer the question!”
“I got bored.”
“That’s not a better answer!”
Wooyoung laughed. The sound echoed warmly through the narrow tunnel, bright and unrestrained in a way Yunho had never heard inside the palace above.
For one strange moment, Yunho forgot his panic entirely.
Then Wooyoung shoved open another hidden door and sunlight flooded in around them. Yunho stumbled out into what appeared to be an abandoned courtyard overgrown with ivy.
Wooyoung looked delighted with himself.
“There,” he announced proudly. “Successful escape.”
Yunho pushed his hair back in exasperation. “Your Highness, with respect, I have work to do.”
Wooyoung gasped dramatically. “You’re leaving.”
“Yes.”
“But you know about the tunnels now.”
“I did not ask to know about the tunnels.”
“Hm.” Wooyoung crossed his arms thoughtfully. “That sounds like something a spy would say.”
Yunho nearly choked. “I am not a spy!”
“That’s also what a spy would say.”
“This is absurd.”
Wooyoung grinned at him again, eyes bright with mischief. Yunho suddenly understood exactly why the palace struggled with this man.
Unfortunately, he was also beginning to understand why people probably found him impossible to truly dislike.
“Well,” Wooyoung said cheerfully, already walking backward toward another ivy-covered doorway, “since you know my secrets now, I guess you’ll have to come with me.”
Yunho’s eyes widened. “What?”
“You can’t leave yet.”
“I absolutely can.”
“Nope.”
“Your Highness--”
“Call me Wooyoung.”
“--I have responsibilities.”
“And I’m saving you from them.”
“That is not how this works!”
Wooyoung only laughed again before disappearing through the doorway. Then, after a beat, his head popped back out.
“Are you coming,” he asked, “or do I have to kidnap you a second time?”
Yunho stared at him, at the ridiculous grin on his face, at the sunlight catching against royal jewelry half-hidden beneath dust and ivy leaves, and at the prince everyone dismissed.
Somewhere deeper in the palace, guards shouted faintly in alarm. Wooyoung looked entirely too pleased about that.
And despite every intelligent instinct screaming at him to walk away immediately, Yunho followed him.