𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫

1.7 || The Eternal

"Prince Sion." A quiet, soft murmur and a warm touch on the shoulder. "Prince Sion, please wake up." Alexander gently shook Seungmin's shoulder, stirring the mint-haired boy awake. The Second Prince's half-lidded eyes were glazed over, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly at the stage lights. He exhaled through his nose.

"I've got the carriages ready outside," Alexander whispered, hovering over the Prince. He was in the row behind him, bending down close enough for his hair to tickle Seungmin's head. Seungmin slowly moved away.

"...Take the villagers there," he muttered back, his voice slow and husky. His head swooped to the side, but a warm hand held his face, preventing him from sinking deeper into his sleep.

Alexander shifted his head back in an upright position and whispered into the Prince's ear, "My Prince, you cannot sleep here. Please guide the villagers to the carriage. It was your idea to take them to Cambriage, no? I have brought the carriages as you asked. I've done my part, and now it is time for yours."

The Second Prince sighed and pushed the boy's hand away, sitting up as he did. From beside his feet, Shin, too, sat up with a large stretch and yawn. It trotted in circles around Seungmin's legs. Alexander smiled politely when the Prince looked at him with a small scowl glinting in his eyes.

"The soldiers will wait outside, so you don't have to worry about any rumors spreading," mentioned the Duke's Heir. Seungmin nodded his head and walked back toward the stage. He wasn't planning on leaving the theater to ride a carriage anyways. What was the point of commuting that way when he could teleport?

"Your Highness," the villagers greeted, quickly forming a crowd to listen to the Prince. Already, their expressions were better than before, and the fairies around them were once again happy with their assured safety.

Beckoning to the entrance, Seungmin announced, "The carriages have been readied. You may now depart to Cambriage. By the time you are there, I should have readied at least one large house for you all." He handed one of the elders a bag of gold, telling her to use it as they saw fit during the trip.

Waves of thanks followed suit, and the Prince put up his hand, urging them to stop. He was helping them for his own benefit as well—there was no reason for the villagers to thank him so much. He was not as kind as they made him to be. From behind, Yeong-Su stood silently, waiting for Seungmin to direct him to a carriage as well. Instead, he was told to wait as the other villagers left the underground room.

"Yeong-Su, you and I will be leaving differently from them." Seungmin's statement confused the golden-eyed boy who furrowed his eyebrows. Although he wasn't sure how far their current location was to the Imperial Castle, was it so close to be able to go by foot? Oh, perhaps they were to ride in another, more luxurious carriage compared to the villagers.

"Master, it is dishonorable for you to ride in the same vehicle as me," Yeong-Su stated, backing up. Seungmin quirked his eyebrows upon hearing "Master," a term that only a slave would call another person.

A sudden, searing pain pounded the Prince's mind. Grimacing, Seungmin stumbled as he clutched his head. His headaches have been more frequent the last couple of days, and all of them resulted in the same: the pain, the feeling of forgetting, and confusion. But he knew the cause for now. It reminded him too much of his time as a slave in his old world. He gritted his teeth.

"You're not a slave. Don't call me your Master. Don't follow my every command. Don't believe in me with your whole heart. Don't live only for me. You're not a slave," Seungmin managed to utter amidst the agony. His cold words echoed clearly in Yeong-Su's ears.

Exhaling, the Prince finally released the breath he was holding. The throbbing disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

"But...why?" rasped the freed adult. Had he made a mistake somehow? Was he already being dismissed? His arms hung like dead branches by his side, and his feet remained planted on the stage, afraid of taking a step closer and breaking apart.