Chapter Text
For the painters at the Bureau of Painting of the Royal Palace, there wasn't a bigger honour than painting the portrait of the King himself.
But for Taehyung, sitting in front of the King in the Throne Hall and sketching his features wasn't a new experience. After all, the King was his beloved father.
It was late in the evening, after dinner, when his father managed to slot in the time to sit for his son for the painting of the official portrait that would adorn the kingdom in the coming months. Taehyung didn't need to have his father pose for him to paint, but he knew it was his father's way of prying into his life.
"How are your studies going?"
"Very well," Taehyung replied, sketching out the fine lines of his father's long, fine bread. "Very uneventful at the same time in the grand scheme of things."
"What do you mean?" The King probed further.
Taehyung was happy with the question. It was unbefitting of a prince to gossip, even more so with the ruler of the whole country. This way, he escaped the throes of an unending lecture about etiquette.
"There is a commoner who passed the Lower Level Test and was able to enroll at the Royal Academy," Taehyung said, lining the shape of a wide set of shoulders. "He is a very distinguished student. The tutors all praise his talent."
For lack of a better word, Taehyung was roped into the nationwide obsession with this man, and he had been waiting to tell his father about him. A commoner defying the odds and earning a spot at the academy, which was ordinarily restricted to the aristocracy, was nothing short of a national legend.
"The path of Daxue is open to all who wish to rest in the highest excellence," the King said dispassionately, using the rigid language of the court. "We shall open the gates of the Palace to a new wave of officials that will guide the path of our future."
With a new decree of the King, another round of civil and military examinations was about to be pushed into place the next day.
Taehyung was early to the afternoon Royal Lecture at the Palace. The Study Hall had a few low-to-the-floor tables arranged in a circle, with a throne-like chair elevated outside the circle, facing the entire room.
One of the leading scholars there, a man as old as the hills, stroked his white beard as he looked outside the window behind the throne-chair.
"Are you okay, Master Kim?" Taehyung asked eventually as more and more scholars trickled in.
Master Kim was one of the more rigid men of letters in the kingdom, who returned to teaching only at the King's insistence.
"The virtuous man does not murmur against Heaven, nor grumble against men," Master Kim enunciated with conviction. "Yet the King rarely attends the Confucian Royal Lectures, and the bright-minded refuse the civil service in favor of conflict. Soon, the words of the classics will ring true, and Shou, the King of Shang, follows only the words of his wife. Then, Heaven will withdraw its blessing from the ruler again."
With the words going in one ear and out the other, Taehyung thanked Heaven for the lecture hall filling with the literati class and for Namjoon's appearance at his side.
"No wonder father doesn't want to sit in this class when all they do is speak in riddles," Taehyung said quietly, only for Namjoon to hear. "Or maybe the old man is on the verge of being delirious for real this time."
"Oh, is he still upset?" Namjoon asked as the rustling of clothes filled the room, and the scholars took their places. "You have to give him a pass. His favorite student just dropped out of the academy. His dream of a commoner breaking the hold of the aristocracy over the civil positions was crushed."
It was like someone dropped a bucket of ice over Taehyung's back. "Jeongguk dropped out?"
His name felt weird on Taehyung's tongue. Jeon Jeongguk. He had never approached the man himself, given the difference of their social status, and Jeongguk never came close to him either. However, he held extensive conversations with Namjoon over time.
"There was a lot of yelling coming from the Office of the Great Director of Learning this morning. He was very mad that someone like him would pass up such an opportunity and mock the whole academy." Namjoon whispered as Master Kim started his lecture. "It is not all that surprising, though. I have heard that he was difficult to get along with despite being so well-read."
Taehyung sat quietly for the rest of the lecture while the debates around a paragraph of Mencius bounced off the walls, all of it going over his head, which was preoccupied with other matters.
For an unknown reason, Taehyung felt disillusioned by the turn of events. He had grown accustomed to watching Jeongguk from afar. In fact, the reason he dropped by the Royal Academy was more to learn about him than to analyze and memorize the great classics like everyone else.
Jeongguk stood up against the crowd of horsehair hats and patterned overcoats, being the only one to wear a simple bandana and a white overcoat in accordance with the restriction on commoners' attire. The magnetism around his person wasn't because he stuck out like a sore thumb; it was something else that Taehyung couldn't quite put his finger on.
A good few months have passed since Master Kim lamented the loss of his favorite student, and Taehyung was convinced that he would never see Jeongguk again.
It was on the day of the Announcement of Examination Passers Ceremony when Taehyung's eyes found him again in the courtyard of the Palace among the crowd of shaking scholars. He was there to visually document the results in the state archives, but his hands trembled just like these scholars awaiting their sentence: would they move up in their career, or were more years of studying awaiting them?
Taehyung gave Namjoon a look, who was too tied up with working as a scribe to decipher what his brother tried to convey to him. It was only when the King announced the names of the qualified candidates in the examination that Namjoon finally returned his gaze.
As his father continued to read names, Taehyung eyed the paper flowers set on a table in front of the Throne Hall. There was a custom of handing out paper flowers to all successful scholars in the name of the King. If only…
"Your Majesty," Taehyung took the required bow at the side of his father. "I believe that having Namjoon and me distribute the paper flowers would allow the people to see that Your Majesty makes no difference between your son and your subjects. In Shijing, it is said, 'How joyful the ruler is to be the parent of the people. Obedience to one's parents is a filial duty."
The King, pleased by Taehyung's proposal, entrusted the distribution of the maids of court to Taehyung and Namjoon.
The qualified candidates were lined up in four rows: two to the right of the King's Throne and two to the left.
"I'll take the rows on the right if you don't mind."
Namjoon scanned the rows on the right of the hall and puffed a silent laugh. "You've lost your mind."
The scholars broke their backs bowing to Taehyung as he congratulated and handed them the paper flowers.
The closer he got to Jeongguk, the less his ears registered the scholars' gratitude. His heart was picking up, and his palms were sweating like a stuck pig. It was as if the roles were reversed for a second, and it was he about to see the Crown Prince in front of him for the first time.
Before, Taehyung presented his congratulations while the exam passers bowed to get it over with faster. For Jeongguk, he waited for him to finish his flat bow, lacking any careful attention to detail.
"Congratulations," Taehyung said with a growing lump at the back of his throat.
There was a pleasant burn of excitement in his chest as he looked at Jeongguk so clearly for the first time. Jeongguk's eyes had a brooding glint when he leaned over to pick up the paper flower from Taehyung.
"If I knew I would get flowers from the prettiest prince for passing this exam, I would've taken it a long time ago."
Taehyung froze on the spot, his hand blocked, hovering in the air as Jeongguk placed the flower in his hair to complete the tradition.
"Your Highness, the others are waiting for you," Jeongguk said with the same lopsided smile. "Don't dwindle."
Taehyung felt like someone had knocked the stuffing out of him, and his tongue was too heavy and his brain too slow to come up with anything. So he did as he was told and walked up to the next row of men, tuning out everything outside of Jeongguk's words to him.
♚
At the Study Hall, Taehyung worked on the last details of the painting. In the sea of people in blue robes standing in front of the throne, there was a glaring empty space on the right. His brush, thick in white paint, hovered over that space. It was meant to be a state piece, not a keepsake for himself, but his hand itched to draw himself in that painting.
In this sort of painting, the King wasn't allowed to appear, and by extension, he should keep himself and Namjoon out of it as well. However, he could not get his encounter with Jeongguk out of his head, and maybe, if he were to put it down on silk, he would bring peace of mind faster.
In the yellowish light of the oil lamp, Taehyung drew himself for the first time as he was giving the paper flower to Jeongguk. The nutty scent of perilla oil was almost as intoxicating as watching himself provide flowers for a man, to a stranger of all people.
He held the painting to the lamp's light for a few seconds, mesmerized by it.
The sound of his name pulled him out of the spell; he instinctively flinched.
"I apologize, Your Highness," Wooshik, his personal guard, said. "The maids want to know if you will have your dinner here or in the Dining Chamber."
Taehyung quickly turned the silk upside down on the table, unwilling to show it to anyone just yet. It had to be approved by the King before being made public, and he had a hunch he would need some convincing to accept it.
"Please ask them to bring it to my chambers. Thank you."
Wooshik nodded courteously. "Am I interrupting your work?" he asked, pointing at the silk with his chin. "I wished to speak with you about something."
Noticing that he was still avoiding his eyes, Taehyung sighed. "I won't speak with you if you keep this strict etiquette with me. You already know I consider you my friend."
Wooshik broke into a smile, locking eyes shyly with Taehyung. "I know, Your Highness. Just a force of habit."
Taehyung smiled and beckoned him to come inside. Sliding the door behind him, Wooshik walked closer until he reached the end of the table. In two short seconds, his whole body was sucked out of energy. "I have some news."
"Good ones, I hope."
"Partially," Wooshik said, shoulders slumped. "I have been promoted today."
Taehyung blinked a few times, unsure of how to react to Wooshik's body reacting badly to good news. "That's amazing. Congratulations!"
"Thank you, Your Highness," Wooshik said. "But the promotion comes with its downsides."
After the examinations, the new military recruits entered the Restriction Guard of the Royal Palace. Taehyung could empathize with the ministry, and especially Wooshik, taking in and handling a new unit of soldiers. At the same time, getting promoted was only second to passing examinations in a public servant's lifetime.
"I will have to pass down my position to someone else, Your Highness. I won't be able to stay by your side anymore."
"Oh. Is that what you worry about?" Taehyung slipped up and laughed a little. "I will be fine."
Wooshik was startled by the sound of Taehyung's laugh. Then, his features softened. "You will. The King wants to strengthen the security around the Palace. He still fears some rebels will act against the Royal Family."
"Well, you know he can get a little paranoid at times," Taehyung said, flipping the painting and rolling it into a scroll. "But it never hurts to be prepared."
Wooshik nodded again, not quite feeling himself just yet. He opened his mouth and closed it again a few times. "I just want to say that I will dearly miss this. Taking care of you."
Taehyung jumped to his feet and walked until he could face Wooshik clearly. "You did your duty well, Wooshik. I believe my father would love for all our soldiers to be as loyal as you."
"Right, my duty…" Wooshik told himself, looking to the side. "I promise to look for a perfect guard for you, even if it takes a long time."
Taehyung accepted the irony, well aware that he was picky about his personal guards. His father was very lenient with him, even as he went through different candidates to protect him. It took him a long time to get accustomed to having someone follow him permanently after his father came to power. Although he always had protection as a Royal, having a second shadow was a recent endeavor.
"I trust you," Taehyung said, striding to the door. "Come eat with me. There's oyster stew tonight. We can talk more about that over dinner."
♚
Under a cloudless sky, the Royal Army marched to the roll of drums and the piercing sound of the oboe. Taehyung peered at the scene from under the curved roof of the Study Hall. Caught in the perfect synchronization of the army march, Namjoon snuck in on him and caused him a scare.
"It's just me," Namjoon said, tapping Taehyung reassuringly on the shoulder. "Why are you so tense?"
"Me? No." Taehyung turned his back on the march, clasping his hands at his back. "I'm fine. What have you got there?"
Namjoon was holding a folded black robe with intricate embroidery stitched on the chest, and a paper card on top of it. "A little gift for your friend from the King."
"Friend?" Taehyung asked, eyebrows pinched together.
Namjoon hummed in agreement, but looked behind Taehyung with a neutral expression. Wooshik appeared at his side, extending his greeting to both of them with a deep bow.
"Exactly who I was looking for," Namjoon said. "His Majesty the King handed me these for the Top Scorer of the military exam." He extended his arms towards Wooshik, then, at the last moment, turned to Taehyung. "Or do you want to deliver them to Jeongguk yourself?"
Put on the spot, Taehyung's eyes darted back and forth between Wooshik and Namjoon. "Me?"
"Him?" Wooshik said at the same time. "It's improper for the Crown Prince to do such a trivial task."
At that, Taehyung felt a slight pang of annoyance in his chest at the definitiveness of his tone.
"I don't think it's trivial at all," Taehyung said, looking straight ahead as Wooshik stared at his side profile. "He is the Top-Scorer. He can come in front of the King with any inquiry if he chooses to."
That morning, Taehyung had breakfast with his parents. In a rare turn of events, it was the King who brought Jeongguk's excellent martial art skills. His father had always been more of a military guy than a lover of literary works. He had gone out of his way to preside over the physical trials of horsemanship and mounted archery, and came back with the conviction that the gifts of the Top Scorer would go to him. Keeping it a secret until the final scores were announced, the King was rather proud of his observation skills that morning.
Taehyung told Wooshik and Namjoon, who were busy this morning, about the King's praise. Namjoon gave him a knowing smile while Wooshik still seemed unconvinced.
"But he is so… uncouth," Wooshik said. "Your Highness, I don't want you to imagine that he is someone who is not. You will understand once you meet him."
At that point, Namjoon was biting his lips to smother his laughter. Taehyung sent him a warning look.
During the time they talked, the Royal Guard rounded the premises of the Royal Palace. The soldiers were marching in again, the flagbearers guiding the parade back into the courtyard. Taehyung scanned the bodies clad in different uniforms, hoping to see a familiar face.
"Wooshik," Taehyung called his name, pulling him out of a conversation he had with Namjoon. "Is Jeongguk part of the Restriction Guard?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
Taehyung's eyes instinctively fell on the soldiers dressed in black overcoats and blue belts. "So he is your subordinate?"
Reluctantly, Wooshik answered him. "Yes?"
His eyes finally found him, and the same lump of stone returned to his throat. Without sparing them another look, he picked up the items from Namjoon's arms and left them behind, bewildered.
When the soldiers saw him striding towards them, they instinctively straightened their backs before throwing themselves into a bow so low that a gust of wind could send them into a kowtow. Before Jeongguk could realize what happened, his colleagues were already greeting Taehyung with a perfectly trained salute.
Jeongguk turned around, giving Taehyung a quick once-over. Eventually, he stopped with the items in his hands.
"You know," Taehyung started, "The usual response to someone from the Royal Family coming into view is bowing."
"Right," Jeongguk's eyebrows twitched momentarily before he did a perfunctory bow. "Sorry, Your Highness."
No bone of sincerity in that body, Taehyung thought to himself. "You're all dismissed." Then, "I want to have a private word with you."
Taehyung walked to the closest, empty hall, which turned out to be the Palace Shrine, where the Royal portraits of deceased kings were enshrined. He motioned to Jeongguk to close the sliding door behind him before he positioned himself by the wall of portraits.
Taking a deep breath, he looked at anything but Jeongguk as he formulated his thoughts into words. "I don't expect you to be aware of the Palace etiquette just yet, but your impudent attitude might cause you a lot of unnecessary trouble."
"Oh, I'm aware of the etiquette," Jeongguk said in an easy tone. "Speaking of etiquette…"
Crossing his arms, Jeongguk prowled around until they were side to side, shoulders an inch from touching, facing opposite directions. "I don't see the portrait of the last King in here, even though he died about five years ago in your father's coup." Walking again, Jeongguk slowly rounded Taehyung and enunciated like the tutors at the Royal Academy from the classics, "Emperors Yao and Shun led the kingdom with benevolence, and the people learned. Jie and Zhou ruled the kingdom with violence, and the people learned. If what one says does not match what one does, the people will not listen," he stopped in front of Taehyung. "Lead with virtue, and the people will listen. Lead with etiquette, and people will follow."
They were close now, toes touching, and Taehyung could feel his lungs closing. He had never been as close to someone outside of his family. "I knew you had a generous amount of audacity from our first meeting, but you are truly beyond my imagination." Taehyung took a step back. "You know you could be hanged publicly for speaking this way to me?"
"Quoting the classics is what literati do around here," Jeongguk shrugged innocently, but his grin was telling a different story about his real feelings. "Or are we talking about our first meeting when I called you pretty?"
Taehyung tried to gulp back the lump in his throat, feeling his cheeks warm up and fists clench at his sides. It was such an unknown form of anger surging through his veins because he didn't want Jeongguk to get away from him, nor did he want to punish him for his words.
"Everyone thinks that beyond the Palace walls," Jeongguk continued. "It's hardly an unpopular opinion."
"This isn't about me," Taehyung said unsteadily. "I only wanted to convey to you that your superior has a bad opinion of you. The Royal Family isn't your enemy here. It's the high officials waiting for an opportunity to dispose of you for more power."
Jeongguk tilted his head to the side. "Wooshik?"
Taehyung nodded.
"Well, he's a stuck-up bitch. Nothing new under the sun."
Seeing Taehyung wince at the use of the word, Jeongguk covered his mouth. "Sorry. I forgot you are very strict with language here."
"Also, we speak with respect to our superiors. Don't let him hear you speak this way about him."
Jeongguk made a sign of locking his lips. "I hope my secret is safe with you, then."
Taehyung took a long look at him. The hat was reserved for high officials, made of pressed fur from which a string of red and blue beads hung under his chin, the deep black overcoat etched with the insignia of the Restriction Guard, the double-edged sword at his side, and the bow on his back. He was so different from the man who was forced to accept his inferior status and who only wore white at the academy.
"I believe this position fits you. Don't do something that will render all your effort to get here obsolete." Taehyung said under his breath. "Wooshik has been my personal guard for a long time. He is not a bad man–"
"And he didn't have you grow grey hair? Damn. Being the Crown Prince really builds up your resistance."
"–he also didn't interrupt me, but that's a lot to ask of you, isn't it?" Taehyung said good-heartedly. "No one can step on my toes and make me lose my mind. I don't have to entertain such behavior."
"Seems like you're entertaining me," Jeongguk narrowed his eyes and raised his chin slightly. "Why so, Your Highness?"
Pressing his lips into a line, Taehyung rocked on his feet as he racked his brains for an answer. He didn't consider himself stuck-up, but he did dislike hearing a definitive tone in words addressed to him. Even when advice was given, it was not taken as advice most of the time.
Surely, Jeongguk crossed some lines he wouldn't allow others to cross. Still, he needed to save face. "You don't work for me as Wooshik did. He served me more than he served my father."
With his arms still crossed, Jeongguk tapped his elbow, nodding slowly. "You think you'd be able to handle me if I worked for you?"
Taehyung nodded resolutely, knowing very well that he approached Wooshik as a friend from the very beginning. He just lied through his teeth.
"What if I were your personal guard, then?" Jeongguk asked. "I heard Wooshik got promoted recently. It would be my pleasure to serve you, Your Highness."
Just like that, Taehyung found himself cornered in a spot he didn't know how to get himself out of, analogous to their first interaction. The same loopside smile playing at Jeongguk's mouth, the same speechless self. It reminded him of a story his mother told him before he was taken away from her at the age of six, about two officials who made a name for themselves by hunting rabbits. He was caged just like the rabbits with the help of a few simple words.
"Then do it well," Taehyung said with a voice that didn't sound quite like his. "If anything bad happens to me, you will answer before the King."
"Just like the poem goes, Stalwart and strong, 'tis a warrior's form: Wall and shield for his Prince he'd make." Jeongguk winked at him. "Nothing bad will happen to you."
"If I survive you, nothing bad will ever happen to me," Taehyung said half-jokingly, half-seriously. "Now come with me. We've been here for far too long. I feel like my ancestors are looking down on me with wrath."
♚
Wooshik was pale as a ghost, and not because the moonlight washed his face in white.
"Do you want me to call you a shaman or something?" Jeongguk asked. "You look like you saw your father's ghost."
Jeongguk, Taehyung, and Wooshik sat in front of the Restriction Guard's Head Office, a long, roofed corridor-like building in the auxiliary wing of the Royal Palace where most servants of the crown resided. The bells just rang twenty-eight times, signaling the start of the city's imposed curfew.
"Keep quiet unless you're asked to speak," Wooshik said with restricted patience. "Your Highness, are you sure this is a good idea?" His voice turned mellow again.
"Are you doubting my judgement?"
"No," Wooshik said almost silently. "But, with no intention of overstepping, I will ask Your Highness to reconsider. I do not believe you two are a good match."
"You do realize we're not going to get married, right?" Jeongguk piped in again, seemingly put out. "I can hardly do a worse job than you."
"This is exactly what I was talking about earlier," Wooshik burst out. "You are too discourteous and provincial to work for the Royal Family. I don't understand how you managed to enter this place."
Taehyung wanted to intervene before a full-blown argument exploded between them, given that most dwellers of the Palace prepared for bed at the time. Yet, Jeongguk was faster than him and hit Wooshik with a sarcastic laugh. "Please remind me, Senior Officer Wooshik, how your first unit came into being?"
Wooshik's face fell again before it tensed up, the vein in his cheek pulsing visibly. "You've said enough."
Shifting his gaze between Taehyung and Wooshik, Jeongguk nodded to himself and hummed in revelation. "Oh, I see. He doesn't know."
"Doesn't know what?" Taehyung asked as the only one left out of the secret there. "Just say it."
"He's a bastard."
“Jeongguk.”
"What? He's an illegitimate son," Jeongguk clarified, irritated by Taehyung's indignation and Wooshik's sudden silence. "I'm a peasant and he's a bastard. Life's difficult when you don't have aristocratic blood."
Taehyung stole a glance at Wooshik. His face was covered by the brim of his hat, the tip of his fabric belt fluttering in the soft breeze. The silence was too much to bear for Taehyung, so wanting to alleviate Wooshik's humiliation, he took a big breath.
"Your background doesn't matter," Taehyung said. "But Wooshik, hypocrisy is a thief of virtue just like the village worthies who present themselves as someone they are not to gain approval."
"I will have to touch up on my Confucian reading," Wooshik said, head still hung low. "Jeongguk, go take some wooden clappers and patrol for me in the city while I have a word with His Highness. You can start your new position at the ringing of the bell tomorrow morning."
Wooshik waited until Jeongguk was out of earshot, watching him walk out the personnel's gate. "Your Highness, I can't say I approve of your decision, and it is part of my duty to counsel you about your own safety," he said. "You have to promise me that you will come to me if he ever crosses the line with Your Highness. I might not be physically responsible for your protection anymore, but I do bear a responsibility as his senior."
"I will," Taehyung said, and Wooshik did his compulsory bow and tried to take his leave. Taehyung called his name again, "Wooshik, you didn't have to hide your background from me. It doesn't change anything about who you are."
Wooshik took a few seconds to register Taehyung's words, furrowing then relaxing his brows. "Thank you, Your Highness," he said. "I promise to not withhold secrets from you again."
Taehyung nodded and watched his figure retreat in the moonlit trail before he withdrew to his chambers with a heavy mind.
♚
After giving the court maidens the nod, Jeongguk was invited to Taehyung's chambers. He was waiting for him in the tearoom turned drawing room, crammed with scrolls of paper and silk, vegetable paint and ink jars, printed Chinese books and handwritten notes. Momentarily, he was ashamed by the mess he was about to greet Jeongguk into, and that it was entirely his fault for the state of the space. It was the only place where he didn't allow the maids to enter and clean. Even the tea on the table, he brought it himself.
"This is how it's going to be every day?" Jeongguk asked with drooping eyes as if he was weighted down by a workday in a rice paddy. Still, he seemed in a better mood after yesterday's flare-up. "I almost fell asleep waiting for you."
"That's not a promising statement to say on your first day," Taehyung said, beckoning Jeongguk to sit opposite him. "I know it is tedious to wait at the door."
Last night, Taehyung tossed and turned until he could not take it anymore, and scribbled down his uneventful, usual schedule. It was tailored to the King's schedule, starting with the maids helping him get ready for the day, continuing with a long lineup of studying, and ending with the maids helping him get ready for bed.
"It's a little bit… sad," Jeongguk said with a pitiful expression.
"Is it?" Taehyung lifted his eyebrow. "So, don't you think that you were too harsh on Wooshik last night?"
Immediately, Jeongguk's features hardened as he looked upwards. "Was I?"
The steam from the ginger and cinnamon tea wafted upward in swirling lines, and, with the tense air in the room, it broke apart faster. Taehyug took a pine nut from a nearby plate and played with it, unsure of where to head the conversation now.
"I understand that you truly believe in the Confucian tradition and spirit, and that a strict hierarchy is the only way to achieve harmony in the world," Jeongguk said, clasping his fingers together on top of the table. "But I only studied this framework because my family has been preparing for the national examinations for generations."
"Then why are you so willing to throw away all your hard work by disregarding everything you studied once you got here?"
"I'm not a village worthy, and I actually believe hypocrisy is the death of virtue," Jeongguk said with a hint of a tease, "I won't pretend to be someone I am not. The side of me that did not want this life is louder than the dream of my family. Even yesterday, I only shut my mouth out of respect for you."
Taehyung's hands clammed up, his fingers closing around the pine nut until it snapped in two. "Your honesty is noble. Sincerity was the actual nature of Heaven. Without–"
"Sincerity, there was no man." Jeongguk finished the sentence for him, chin propped on his fist. "Your long hours of study show in your knowledge, Your Highness. A rare sight among your peers."
"It is not all that impressive for someone in my position," Taehyung said, unable to look at Jeongguk. "Your story sounds all the more interesting. Do you mind talking about your family?"
Jeongguk looked at him with an unreadable expression for a bit, and then reached for the teapot and a teacup from the side of the table. His silence rang bells for Taehyung, and he was about to apologize for intruding on his personal life before Jeongguk started to speak.
"I came from a family of hat makers and big admirers of the Royal Family," Jeongguk started, relaxed. "My some grand-grandfather began making horsehair hats for the aristocracy in exchange for favors. Most times, the Chinese books needed for the national examinations and for their son to be accepted into the village study halls patronized by the noble families. Things like that."
"Then, is it fair to say your family is fairly literate?"
"Usually, they would choose the most gifted boy to study while the rest of them stayed at the hat shop or worked the fields. They believed they would strike gold and someone would pass the exams. Then the whole family will be elevated to a higher class."
Taehyung absentmindedly swished the tea in his cup as he listened to Jeongguk. Having already been somewhat familiar with Jeongguk's deeds, it didn't come as a surprise that he was a complete outlier of the lower social class. To learn that he had the help of the aristocracy of his village was only natural, but it didn't downplay his ability in the slightest. Although the national examinations were open to commoners, the amount of time and resources required were only accessible to the nobility, and even those nobles had a hard time beating the imperatives of the exam.
"It is no surprise the students at the Royal Academy despised you," Taehyung thought out loud. "You were a danger to them when you shouldn't have been."
"You noticed me at the Academy?" Jeongguk asked with a satisfied smile. "It was to be expected. Some of them were part families who had not produced a civil servant in four generations and were about to lose their privileged position in the aristocracy. Meanwhile, some didn't need to pass an exam and still feared their place."
"Your family must be so proud of you," Taehyung said with an unknown warmth in his chest. "They did strike gold with you. You are their golden son."
Jeongguk did a theatrical bow in a show of gratitude, then took a sip of his tea. "You could say the Royal Family played a big role in it."
Taehyung frowned. "What do you mean?"
"When my father died, my mother was accepted to work in the Bureau of Cooking Foods, and she would smuggle out some food for me while I was studying. It was only thanks to her that I could survive for so long at the village study hall."
"Are you… confessing to your family stealing from the Royal Family?" Taehyung asked, eyes nearly popping out.
"That's a bit dramatic," Jeongguk puffed out a laugh. "They were leftovers. It was either this or throwing them to the dogs."
Whenever Jeongguk spoke, Taehyung had to collect his jaw off the floor. Honesty was a virtue in the strongest sense of the world, but Jeongguk was too recklessly honest for his own good. "I do hope you're not this frank with everyone…"
"I wouldn't have gotten here if I were," Jeongguk said. "Let's just say you are different."
Taehyung wasn't sure if it was a compliment or a hint at his own weakness, which wasn't the worst option out there. Jeongguk read him correctly from the day they met and decided to take a chance with him without reservations. To top it off, he was right to believe that Taehyung would not snap and would even put up with his discourteous attitude. Taehyung wished he were as attuned to himself as to understand what made him do all of it.
Jeongguk rose to his feet, dusting off his black robe. "You have to get to a Royal Lesson soon. We shall go."
As Taehyung took a while longer to finish his tea and eat some dried persimmon, Jeongguk took rounds around the room. The Spirea, Korean Berchimea, and Curcumba in a white porcelain pot, the calligraphy set, the screens painted with heroic stories of the past—Jeongguk catalogued all of them. A row of rolled-up scrolls lined up on a table caught his eye. Taehyung had no reaction to him unrolling the silk until he saw Jeongguk's face brighten in a teasing manner.
"Is this us?" Jeongguk asked, turning the painting towards him. "Did you paint this?"
The persimmon stopped in his throat, color rushing to his cheeks.
"So cute." Jeongguk looked longingly at the painting, tilting his head. "Can I keep it?"
"I…" Taehyung trailed off, throat full. "I made it for the Bureau of Painting."
A flash of disappointment flickered across Jeongguk's face, faster than a blink. "That's fine. It's very pretty."
"You can keep it," Taehyung said, fiddling with his cup of tea. "I focused too much on… us. It should be more neutral. It's yours."
"Are you sure?"
Taehyung nodded. In truth, he had decided to keep it for himself and paint another one for the state archives. The only thing that broke his heart a little was that he could not recreate one for himself, since it was impossible to feel what he had felt when he painted that one, his mind echoing Jeongguk's words: he was pretty. He forgot how that word sounded coming from Jeongguk's mouth.