Prince Errol stood before the mirror for the fifth time in the last hour, adjusting his perfectly fitted dark blue silk shirt.

"No, this isn't right," he muttered, tearing the outfit off and throwing it onto the already impressive pile of rejected garments. "Too gloomy."

His violet eyes darted to the next option—a silver suit embroidered with branches. Yes, that was closer, festive—after all, he had an engagement coming up! Errol pulled the clothes on, straightened the collar, turned, assessing how the fabric draped over his shoulders. He wanted to be the most beautiful, to enchant his little peach, his forest sprite. At the thought of Prince Yujin, an involuntary, languid sigh escaped Errol's chest. Heat spread across his cheeks.

He dreamed of how he would love him all night long, feed him the sweetest fruits and most delicate desserts, fulfill his every whim, even the most absurd one. Anything, just so his little sprite would never regret agreeing to become his spouse.

"Maybe green after all?" Errol reached for another outfit, but the door to his chambers suddenly flew open.

"Gods," came a weary voice, "are you planning to try on the entire kingdom's wardrobe?"

Moe, Errol's cousin, stood in the doorway, arms crossed. Errol laughed.

"If need be, I'll try on yours too!"

Moe snorted. His maroon hair was slightly disheveled, and his gray eyes looked at Errol with their usual mix of irony and kindness.

"The delegation is already close," he informed him. "Tomorrow you'll finally see each other."

Hearing this, Errol couldn't suppress a jubilant smile.

Moe sighed, shaking his head. He immediately remembered the episode that had occurred right after they returned from the negotiations.

The throne hall glittered with gold leaf and velvet, and the King and Queen sat in their places, smiling. Their son, the crown prince, the pride of the kingdom, had just announced his intention to marry.

"Oh, Errol! Finally!" The Queen clasped her hands, beaming. "We've waited so long for this day! Who is the fortunate lady?"

"The fortunate one is certainly me," Errol laughed in response, "and it's a man. I wish to ask for the hand of Prince Yujin from the Kingdom of Fitasentia."

Everyone in the hall froze. Moe concentrated on inhaling air through his nose to avoid bursting into laughter at the sight of their dumbfounded faces—though he had likely looked much the same when he first heard this declaration from his cousin.

The King and Queen looked at Moe in sync, but he merely shrugged, not knowing what else to add to this farce.

"You... are sure?" the King asked cautiously. Errol nodded.

"Absolutely."

His violet eyes burned with fierce determination. Both the King and Queen knew their son well—if he desired something, he achieved it no matter what.

"But... the line of succession..." the Queen-mother delicately dropped.

Errol suddenly gestured toward Moe.

"Moe isn't any worse. He can continue it."

Moe almost choked on his indignation. Why should *he* bear the burden?! Technically, he was the son of the current King's elder brother, who himself had given the crown to the younger one. Following the strict law, *he* was the first in line for the throne. Only Moe had never been interested in such things! How happy he had been when talented Errol was made crown prince! His cousin was the best in the country, suited for the role like no one else!

"No, Errol, that's your concern," Moe clicked his tongue in response, "you can adopt or institute an elective system."

Errol pondered with a hum.

"We already have a ministerial council. Institute elections at a higher level and reform the royal blood inheritance?"

"We could consider partial party systems and elections by province, and blood..."

"Alright, that's enough," the King interrupted them, clearly displeased as interested officials were already gathering nearby. However, their meetings often ended in sudden debates and decisions on important political matters.

"What is this! Just a hint of romance and back to work!" the King suddenly complained loudly, shooing them all out of the hall. "And a report, Errol! Then marry even a bald demon-lizard for all I care!"

Moe chuckled with schadenfreude, remembering how his cousin had toiled, compiling reports and forecasting all the benefits for the country from him binding himself in marriage to the Prince of Fitasentia. It had taken him several weeks to talk the entire top brass around—and Moe never doubted he would succeed.

And now Moe watched from an open balcony as a line of carriages rolled into their enormous courtyard. He gave thanks to all the gods that he didn't have to greet the delegation or even interact with it in any way—what bliss! So he closed the glass door, savored the aroma of his favorite black tea with notes of fruit straight from the Itlalian Empire, and immersed himself in some pleasant reading.

***

The carriage bearing the crest of Fitasentia slowly entered the inner courtyard of the snow-white castle, and Yujin pressed a palm to his chest as if trying to calm his wildly beating heart.

The castle gates swung open, and they were met not with the cold stares of suspicious guards, but with respectful bows and smiles from the servants.

"Your Highness, Prince Yujin? Welcome to the Sun Palace," the head steward bowed in an elegant curtsy. "His Majesty the King and Her Majesty the Queen ask that you rest from your journey. Everything has been prepared."

Yujin blinked. He had expected much—contempt, hidden mockery, perhaps even open rejection. But not... this. Not sincere warmth in their voices, not respectful attention in every gesture.

"Thank you..." he mumbled awkwardly, finally remembering his manners and bowing politely in return.

They were led through high-ceilinged halls adorned with frescoes and fresh flowers, and the further they walked, the more Yujin felt like a little fish tossed from a familiar stream into a vast, glittering lake.

"Your chambers, Your Highness," a servant opened the carved doors, and Yujin froze on the threshold.

The room was spacious, flooded with light from tall stained-glass windows. Soft carpets, books on shelves, a small cozy fireplace—everything spoke of a guest truly being awaited and an effort to please.

"If you require anything—simply call," the servant bowed and withdrew, leaving Yujin alone. Yujin slowly exhaled, allowing the luxury to envelop him like a warm blanket. He silently walked around the room, his fingers touching the carved wood, the patterned fabric. From the window came the gentle scent of linden trees blooming in the garden, pleasantly tickling his nose.

"I... didn't expect this," Yujin said quietly, "it's so unusual..."

Warm water with rose petals washed the travel dust from Yujin, but couldn't wash away his inner tension. He stepped out of the bathing room, wrapped in a soft robe, and stopped in bewilderment at the sight of the dinner laid out on the table—consommé, roast chicken, baked fish, several salads, a mushroom pie, fruits, hot fragrant tea reflecting the candlelight, and desserts of various chocolates. This would last Yujin a week! He shook his head, sitting down at the table—it seemed this kingdom had a passion for gastronomy, how else to explain such abundance?

All the dishes tasted magnificent—it had been a long time since he had eaten with such pleasure! He was surprised by how comfortable he felt in a foreign country—did everyone feel this way? It was his first time leaving his homeland, and he felt ashamed for being so glad about it. He considered going out for a walk but reasoned it wasn't worth the risk. What if this hospitality was just a show? Outside the window, twilight was deepening, and the shadows in the unfamiliar corridors seemed too long.

"Tomorrow," he whispered to himself, "tomorrow I'll find out everything."

He blew out the candle and lay down in bed, listening to the unfamiliar sounds of the foreign castle. Somewhere beyond these walls was he—the man who might soon become his spouse.

At that thought, Yujin's heart beat so loudly it seemed it could be heard even through the stone walls. Yet, despite all the anxieties, Yujin, too exhausted from the long journey, fell asleep instantly.