it's dark inside

he can’t look at taemin in the eye without spilling out the truth or crying. he’s always found comfort in taemin but this time jongdae doesn’t let himself have the advantage of doing so. opening up to taemin would be so easy but he doesn’t want to worry anyone, especially his best friend.

the shock passes as jongdae avoids his eyes and starts wiping at his face, obviously trying to cover up the fact that he was crying. where taemin had felt shock previously, he now feels a sharp stab of concern. a bunch of questions fly through his head at once: why is jongdae crying? is it because of a person? what did they do? what could possibly have been so incredibly upsetting that it would wipe jongdae's bright smile from his face, only to replace it with tears?

as jongdae brings up the weather, taemin sighs, finally stepping into the room and making his way over to the bed. "jongdae," he says quietly, though he doesn't really expect a response since jongdae seems to be making sure to avoid meeting his eyes.

by the time jongdae asks if he needs anything, taemin's long since forgotten that he came back to get his books. far more important is jongdae, and even if he did remember that he needed to get his books, he probably wouldn't even care. he needs to make sure that jongdae is alright, needs to try to fix this because jongdae crying just feels wrong.

finally he stands next to the prince, just less than an arm's length away. taemin could reach out and easily touch the other's shoulder, try to be comforting, but he isn't sure how without making things overly awkward, so he just stands there for now, chewing on his tongue as he tries to figure out what to say.

"are you crying?" he asks, realizing that was a stupid question as soon as it was out of his mouth. clearing his throat awkwardly, he moves to sit on the bed next to jongdae, one hand awkwardly reaching out as if to pat him on the knee or the shoulder, though he stops halfway, retracting his hand and sighing quietly. he's comforted people before, of course, but it's always been his siblings, and he's comforted them so many times that it comes almost as second nature to him. but the idea of comforting jongdae of all people is so foreign and strange to him that he has no idea where to even begin.

"My lord?" he responds with a respectful quietness, tentatively glancing up at Taemin in time for his strange explanation. Sungjong is not prepared for this confession either, wonders bitterly why on earth it had to be him Lord Taemin felt the need to spill his heart to. No you don’t, he thinks to himself, You’ve no idea what it’s like. You were a child. Your future prospects were saved long before you even knew what a future was. You will not spend the rest of your life sweeping floors for men who will grow happily fat without a single thought for those who prepare their meals. You will marry and have children and they will want for nothing and you will never be forgotten because somewhere your name will be written in a ledger for your spoiled, fat, great great great grandchildren to remember you by. But, of course, he says none of this aloud, gives none of it away through his expression.

He knows that Sungjong is expertly hiding his thoughts now, and Taemin resists the urge to sigh, bitterly wondering what the servant thinks of him. At Sungjong's words, however, so perfectly submissive and agreeing, Taemin does sigh, standing up and walking over to the window, where he can stand with his back to Sungjong as he collects his thoughts.

He's not even sure why he cares so much, about Sungjong and what he thinks of Taemin. He doesn't like the idea of being judged for something that he can't control, though plenty of others do the same thing. But most of those are nobles, people who believe that a lowborn orphan should never be named heir to anything, whether he was adopted or no. Maybe it's because he thinks he can somehow change Sungjong's opinion of him if he just talks about it. Maybe it's because he can relate to Sungjong in a way, as he remembers what it was like to serve others without getting any respect or recognition in return. And it would definitely be nice to know that at least one of the castle's servants didn't secretly hate him.

Crossing his arms, he leans against the wall next to the window, his back still towards the servant as he watches a party going on in the courtyard. The lords and ladies mingle among each other, and Taemin knows that even while they exchange pleasantries and laugh together, they're all plotting one another's downfall. It makes Taemin sick.

Taemin is surprised himself when Sungjong looks up at him and actually makes eye contact. He has nothing against meeting a servant's eyes, since he doesn't view them as lower than himself as other nobles do. However, he knows that in Sungjong's eyes, he is nothing more than just another asshole of a lord, so he would have never expected the servant to look up and actually meet his eyes.

The servant's words, however, don't surprise Taemin in the least. He had been expecting to hear something like that, a lie told in an attempt to save his own skin. Though really, it's as if Sungjong is contradicting his own words with his actions, because he must know that for many lords and nobles, it could be considered nothing short of an insult for a servant to maintain unnecessary eye contact. (Taemin isn't one of these lords, but Sungjong doesn't know that, so it's beside the point.)

Taemin watches as Sungjong looks down, apparently realizing his "mistake" and quickly switching back to the demure and innocent façade. With a sigh, the young lord sets his book aside and shifts in his seat so that he can rest his elbow on the arm of the chair and his face in his palm.

He vaguely wonders why he ever thought this was a good idea in the first place, because he knows that he's probably scared poor Sungjong half to death, which makes him no better than the other nobles and lords who treat Sungjong and the other servants like complete shit.

He looks down at the floor in front of his chair, thinking for a moment on what it would have been like if his father had taken him in not as a son, but as a servant. He might not have turned out exactly like Sungjong, since his family treats servants much better than the nobles do here, but he has always taken note of how the servants still seem reserved around him and the rest of his family, even though they know they are treated well. The thought that he might have ended up in a situation like Sungjong's, where he's completely worthless and disposable and he knows it, brings another quiet sigh to Taemin's lips.

{ ... }

on his way back to his room, he thinks about his studies, and figures that he may as well do some of his school work tonight, though he hates admitting that his tutor is actually right about something.

he knows that he can't slack off completely on his studies, or else he'll never be allowed to leave and go back home to the estate. the king's excuse for bringing taemin to the capitol in the first place was to train him to be a "real lord," so if he doesn't display some sort of progress in his studies, taemin knows he'll never be able to go home.

but he's been here for three years, and now his desire to go home isn't nearly as strong when he first arrived in the castle. and as incredible as it may seem, taemin thinks that jongdae is the reason for that. ever since taemin's first week here, he's been nothing but nice and kind, and taemin counts himself lucky to have been able to meet the prince and be able to call him his best friend.

taemin suddenly remembers that he forgot to bring his books with him when he left jongdae's room. stopping in the corridor, he turns on his heel and walks in the opposite direction, not even minding the strange look he receives from a passing servant.

when he reaches jongdae's room he opens the door before knocking, though he does tap his knuckles on the wood lightly as he walks in. they've long since dropped the polite formalities of most nobility, so it's not strange for one of them to walk right in on the other like this.

"then is it alright if i just called you taemin?" he asks after a moment, brows furrowing, afraid that perhaps he’s crossed a line. jongdae might be fine with not having the title of ‘your highness’ or ‘prince’ when he’s spoken to but he’s not too sure about taemin.

jongdae. this isn't the first time he's heard the prince's name, of course, but he's always heard it accompanied by prince or his highness. the name seems rather plain on its own, though taemin supposes that's just because he's not used to hearing it spoken that way. 

as the prince -- jongdae, taemin reminds himself -- asks him a question, taemin blinks again, completely caught off guard by the prince's whole demeanor in general. he hadn't been expecting the king's son to be so....innocent. his eyebrows furrow slightly at the question, too, because why would jongdae care what he thinks? he has to go along with whatever jongdae calls him, whether he likes it or not. 

"uh, sure, you can call me taemin," he says, still generally confused by the prince as a whole, though he figures he may as well go along with it.

then suddenly jongdae is dashing away and holding up a book with a bright grin on his face, and taemin can only blink some more, vaguely thinking that the prince is starting to remind him more of his sister minha than of hyerin.

carefully he places them across the floor, crinkling his nose as he shifts the books around. he’s pulled out of his little mini-race when he hears a knock on the door and immediately his face lights up, eyes wide but heart almost unable to stay steady.

"i...i'm not a lord," he says, still trying to get over the shock of the prince's strange demeanor. "but i am taemin," he says, pausing for a second before realizing that he forgot something. "your highness," he adds, bowing his head and thinking about how dumb it is that he should treat this stranger respectfully just because he was born to a king.

he's even more surprised when the prince introduces himself, though he doesn't know why it shocks him. he supposes he had expected the guy to be like his father and all the other lords in this place, high and mighty and full of himself. he doesn't expect to be allowed to call the prince by his first name, even though that's how he introduced himself. taemin knows that there's no way that would happen, not in a society like this.

he follows the prince in, though, looking around at the stuff spread out on the floor and wondering what all this is supposed to be. the sight of all the books reminds him of his younger sister hyerin back home, and his chest tightens with yet another pang of homesickness. he does his best to ignore it, though, looking up instead and watching the prince.