queen munjeong’s birthday » open!

what else could it be? perhaps it was the drawl of men beating around the bushes to outsmart each other that she was tired of. or the meddling ladies, so stagnant in the regime of such formal events and their false pretenses of decorum that any piece of riveting gossip gets passed around with indecent efficiency. maybe even all the disquieting gazes peering at her, the hushed whispers about the unusual presence of the bastard child — the kind that she should be used to by now, yet still made her shift in her seat.

she’s taken by surprise at the male’s ability to pick up on her uneasiness. and here she thought she had perfected the art of being subtle. was it the clenched jaw? or the tight-lipped smile?

queen munjeong’s birthday party ; accepting.

an eyebrow jumps up at the statement. “is that so?” 

he turns to him slowly, eyes first before his head catches up with the movement. maybe this boy is the type to like the theatrics (ah, the perks (?) of being young), but hwan -- well, the current hwan, who is older and more mature than his previous self at twenty -- likes how relatively...quiet (?) this night has been.

but aren’t parties like this supposed to be full of gut-wrenching drama? or has hwan finally been desensitized to the drama that have already unfolded within the party? either way, he isn’t complaining. he’s on the older side now, so he prefers peaceful nights like these. 

starter call for queen munjeong’s birthday event, with @dalwooseong.

the entirety of his being crawls with several probabilities that come with the responsibilities of upholding the name of the royal family, the house of yi. he detests it, being a body of contained attention; it feels as if he was nothing but the bull’s eye to everyone’s pair of eyes. a slip up might result in a gaffe larger than everyone else in the atrium, its cocoon debilitating for a man ranked so high in the status. but alas, it’s a performance that doesn’t desist even after long past the sundown. not in this kind of occasion. a break is not well-deserved, if there’s such a thing. and for such, he’s resisting the ache in his sinews from all the tension, tedium.

he’s expected to mingle for the entire evening, it’s a given. that’s what he does, relentlessly, giving his best responses to everyone who’s so eager to bow towards him, sending their regards to his mother — who expectedly is occupied with the sets of guests on her own as well. he keeps an eye on her, regardless, knowing that even with the height of security at its peak, they cannot let their guards down. there is inevitable danger that comes to being the family of the descendants to the throne, and so, he’s alert at all times.