duty to the kingdom || choi youngjae
â summary: one of the things you hated the most was being looked down upon. unfortunately, as a princess, there were plenty of times where one of the royals would treat you as if you hadnât a thought in that pretty head of yours. you absolutely despised it. imagine your outrage then, when the king picks your betrothed for you one fateful day. even if you rarely defy the kingâs orders, this felt like a personal challenge to your independence and free choice. as you fight against your arranged marriage to prince youngjae, you eventually begin to wonder if your hardheadedness and anger are misplaced. Â
â pairing: prince!youngjae x princess!reader
â genre: arranged marriage au, lots of self-reflection and fluff
â word count: 5.4k
â warnings: n/a
â a/n: proud to make my 100th post about youngjae. slightly late birthday fic, but i hope yâall will continue to give him the love he deserves!
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The royal court is nothing if not prone to gossip. Every day, youâre forced to be in attendance despite every fiber of your being aching to be in bed instead with a good book. Not only would it be far more interesting, but you also wouldnât have to worry so much about sitting prim and proper in front of the kingdomâs gaggle of royals.
Appearances were everything here.
Sitting beside the king, you chance a glance at him as you give up on following the topic of the current conversation. It feels like it is only yesterday that your father had laughed and played with you in the castleâs rose garden, your mother smiling through the windows as she watched the two of you. But now, his hair is streaked with grey and his face aged with wrinkles. You couldnât remember the last time you heard his booming laugh; a rarity ever since the queen passed.
âY/N, there is an important matter I must speak to you about.â
Not expecting him to address you like this, you hurriedly bow your head in acceptance. A soft âyes fatherâ escapes your parted lips, hoping that it does not catch the attention of any court ladies in the vicinity. They were like a fish to water with rumors, so you learned your lesson at an early age not to ever trust them with important issues.
The remainder of the discussion ends on a rather promising note, as the king gathers a lot of promising intel on his supportersâ current situations and his neighboring kingdomâs allegiances. Enduring the mindless chatter of the royal court was most definitely a chore, but it is also essential in maintaining power. The one with the most knowledge will always be one step ahead.
You rise alongside your father, watching as the owners of estates across your kingdom bow in reverence. Even if they were doing this out of fear for your father, and not you, the action motivates you to wield the same authority someday. When you are this kingdomâs ruler, you will not tolerate anything less that what your father achieves.
Following the king out of the throne room, you dismiss a servant as she rushes to follow after you. As she leaves after giving you a deep bow, you begin to feel the tingle of anticipation against your spine. You rarely held private conversations with your father, given how busy he has been managing his duties. The crops did not grow as well as anticipated this year and there have been plenty of potential threats against the kingdom, so to say he had his plate full would be an understatement.
He leads you into his study, and you take some time to briefly examine the bookshelves surrounding the room. Each row is neatly organized based on subject matter, from battle tactics to formal letter writing. There used to be an entire bookcase dedicated to childrenâs stories when you were young, since you loved hearing your father read to you before bed. You wonder momentarily where those books are now.
Breaking out of your stupor, you notice the king standing with his back facing to you as he observes the palace grounds from the large windows behind his desk. Closing the door behind you with a soft locking sound, you walk forward to stand beside him. The soldiers are making their rounds, following neatly divided paths leading to various areas of the palace. Their march is methodical and focused, and the rhythm is hypnotizing.
âHow have you been faring?â the king finally asks, regarding you with his usual gaze.
âWell enough. The tutor has been doing great. He says I am improving very fast,â you note, pulling your eyes away from the window to meet your fatherâs.
âThat is good to hear,â he says before adding, âYou will make a great queen.â
The kingâs praise is hard to come by, especially as he has grown more demanding of you as time passes. With each year, he expects you to become more informed about your role as a member of the royal family and more mature about your decision-making for the kingdomâs future. You do your best to hide your satisfaction, but it is difficult.
âThank you, father.â
He makes a noise of affirmation before looking out the window again. You cannot pinpoint exactly what he is observing, so perhaps he is simply seeing something in his mindâs eye. The sigh that follows worries you, wondering if the news he wanted to speak to you about was actually a bad one.
âWith every great ruler, is a great partner,â he states simply, and from his melancholy tone you sensed his continued sadness regarding your motherâs early death.
Your heart sinking to the pit of your stomach, you fold your hands and nod.
âIâm sure you are aware of our talks with the closest kingdom to our North. Alongside our treaty agreements to share grain stores and defend each other in the case of invasion, we have also discussed formally uniting outside of a contract.â
The puzzle pieces were slowly snapping together in your head, and the dismay traps itself within your vocal cords. You are afraid to speak, afraid that if you voiced your concerns, it meant that your father had truly used you as a bargaining chip.
âPrince Youngjae will make a good king. Iâm sure the two of you will bring about a second Golden Age for our people.â
When you finally say something, the deathly monotonous sound of your words sounds like that of a strangerâs. Amid your disappointment in your father, you have become a stranger to yourself.
âNo. I object to this union,â you grit, nails biting into your palm as you struggle to maintain the little power you thought you had. Yelling and crying would just expose your weakness and lose what credibility you had.
âIt is not a suggestion, Y/N,â if it were possible for the king to look even more weary than he did earlier, than it surely accurately describes his current state.
âFather you cannot seriously hand me over to a complete stranger. A man I do not know, do not love.â
His silence just angers you further, as you begin to feel increasingly alone. Not only will you never be able to confide in your mother again, but now you have lost your worth to your remaining parent. If he truly wanted whatâs best for you, he would not have added you to a bargain like a prized cattle for sale.
âI have done nothing but obey you, your majesty. Do not confine me to a future of unhappiness,â you warn, hoping that your anger masks the fear and hurt you feel at this development.
Instead, the man you once affectionately called father simply barks, âIt is a command. The marriage will be held a month from now. I suggest you correct your attitude before then.â
You allow yourself to let the first tear fall when he finally leaves the room, leaving nothing but a swish of his robes and the loud slam of large oak doors.
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âYouâll sooner see me die than marry that man.â
To your servantâs credit, she does not acknowledge your angry words. Instead, she continues to help you get dressed for the day. While you continue to criticize the king for doing this to you, yourself for being too weak to defend your autonomy, and eventually your betrothed for even daring to be involved, she finally speaks.
âYour highness, you do not know if Prince Youngjae deserves the way you speak of him.â
You hesitate, acknowledging that she did bring up a good point. Arranged marriages in and of themselves are horrendous affairs in your mind, the lack of free will causing you to complete turn your nose up on the idea. The prince could be a decent individual, but he could also be a gruff man with zero awareness of your feelings. If he is anything like the dukes your father entertains daily, you would sooner escape for a life of exile than stay as a sitting duck.
âPerhaps not. But Luce, Iâm being commanded to marry a man Iâve never met. Is that not, in and of itself, an injustice?â you inquire, watching as she gets on her knees to smooth out the remaining wrinkles at the hem of your dress.
When she finally stands, dusting off her apron as she does so, she gives you a small curtsy before replying, âPardon me for my honesty, but there are far worse things in life. Perhaps for a royal, the loss of the ability to choose and make decisions for oneself is a terrible punishment. However, I advise you give the boy a chance. It is in your best interest to make this work.â
âLuce, weâve grown up together. Youâve been my personal servant since we were both 13. You know that I cannot allow decisions affecting my future to be made for me. I have spent hours studying, confined to books when others play outside on sunny days. Am I not allowed to think for myself for a change, instead of the kingdom?â you want your closest friend to agree with you, if only to reassure you that you had a right to be outraged.
âBorn to two of the kingâs servants, my purpose is to serve the royal family until I die. Born to Utopiaâs king and queen, your purpose is to serve Utopiaâs people until your last breath,â Luce finally gives you a small smile as she pins the last gold leaf into your hair, âYou will do the right thing. I know it.â
Brushing the wetness appearing in your eyes, she chastises you softly for ruining the makeup she used to try and get rid of the puffiness from yesterdayâs bout of crying. You swallow thickly, thanking her for preparing you for the morning before getting ready to meet the kingâs entourage for breakfast. When the door to your room opens, Luce returns to her demure position a few feet away from you, looking everything like the perfectly submissive servant castle etiquette instructs her to be.
Breakfast is a sordid ordeal. Stirring your porridge with distaste, you nibble on the freshly baked bread from the kitchens and think about your meeting with Prince Youngjae in a few hours. You originally considered openly refusing to go or disappearing conveniently as soon as you spot his carriage entering the castle walls, but after Luceâs words this morning, youâre forced to reconsider.
Picking apart the remainder of your honey bun, you realize that, regardless of whether this man assigned to you turns out to be decent person or not, you harbored no romantic feelings for him. Marrying him would then become nothing but an obligation, and you would be nothing but a task he completes for the sake of his kingdom. You did not want to share your bed with a stranger for the rest of your years, nor bear his children for the sake of duty. When would your royal duty end and your free will begin? It all seemed terrible.
When breakfast is finally removed and you have no choice but to meet the royals of the neighboring kingdom your father discussed yesterday, you regret eating that pastry. Even though youâd only had a few bites, the anxiety was causing you to grow nauseous.
Maybe if you threw up on the princeâs shoes, heâd cancel the engagement.
Hiding your smile behind a gloved hand, you do your best to keep up with the strong amble of the king before you. Servants bow at the two of you as you pass through the corridor, only continuing their work when they are out of your sight. These people depended on you completely for shelter, safety, and purpose. Luceâs earlier warning rings through your ears, and the heaviness of the responsibility of your birthright feels more stifling today than any other day.
When you enter the throne room, you notice that it looks shinier than it had yesterday. Perhaps for the sake of good first impressions, it was subjected to a thorough cleaning the night before. Your father returns to his seat on the throne, and you allow yourself to imagine yourself on that seat in a few yearsâ time. Would the throne feel heady with limitless power or cold with loneliness?
The seat you typically had next to the throne has been removed today, so you simply stand next to your father with your hands crossed over your abdomen. As soon as youâve adjusted your skirts, the guards open the doors and you do your best to maintain the neutral expression on your featuresâregardless of who steps in through the entrance.
As the trio approaches the throne, they incline their heads in greeting to the king. Acknowledging Elysiaâs king and queen, you return their gaze with a deep bow of your own. Pausing for a few long seconds, you finally straighten to immediately regard their son who was standing only a few paces away.
The first thing you notice, albeit with some shame, is that he is very good-looking. His locks are slightly tousled in a stylish way, and are as dark as his eyes that are openly observing you as well. A small smile graces his lips, a lightly pink contrast to the fairness of his skin. Briefly wondering how a man could look so calmly attractive, you only break your unabashed stare when your king speaks.
âWelcome to Utopia. The princess and I hope the travel was without issue,â your father says, giving your future in-laws their due respect.
âElysia and Utopia have always been close neighbors. Visiting is no trouble to us,â Elysiaâs king replies, and even through your first impressions, he seemed to be a kind yet commanding individual.
âWe are honored to finally meet Princess Y/N, she is as lovely as they say,â the queen adds, and the way she openly beams reminds you too much of your own mother.
Heart stinging, you whisper, âYou are too kind, your highness.â
The remainder of the discussion revolves mainly around the adults in the room, as you begin to feel like a toddler waiting for your parents to stop talking to the other adults. Doing everything you could to avoid looking at Prince Youngjae again, you could feel him taking short peeks at you, and it makes you oddly nervous. You wonder what his first impression of you could be.
As if that mattered. Your ultimate goal was to prevent yourself from being saddled to him.
When the conversation finally ends, you only let the sigh of relief escape when the royal family exits to have a tour of the palace grounds. Your father chuckles at your response, standing to rest a hand on your shoulder before asking, âWas that really so frightening?â
âMy duty is cementing our treaty with Elysia. I still do not consent to marriage,â you reply, looking your father in his eyes in direct challenge.
Instead of striking fear into the old man, he simply gives you an amused smile before exiting. You are left standing alone, left behind to consider your next step.
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Turns out, Prince Youngjae would be staying for the next month within the castle. You wondered whether Elysia was foolishly trusting or rightfully confident in simply leaving their heir in the hands of another kingdomâs rulers. As you head to your room to retire for the night, you hesitate in front of one of the best guestrooms you had to offer. The man you were to wed was inside, miles away from the home he grew up in. You wonder if he is afraid.
Settling in your favorite chair by the fire, the pages of your newest novel feeling crisp against your fingertips, you fail to notice how quickly the night moves. You reckon it is fairly late when you finally finish, setting the book on your table. You used to play chess with your mother on this table. It is well worn with age, but you couldnât throw anything away that held essences of your time with her.
If she were here, sheâd never let this happen.
Stretching out your limbs, you rub your weary eyes and wonder if the kitchen would have leftover slices of the pumpkin pie from dinner earlier. It was extremely well-made tonight, perhaps due to the need to impress, but you only confined yourself to a single slice.
Slipping on a warm shawl, you open your bedroom door slightly to examine the hallway. Empty except for the pale moonlight slipping in from the giant windows, you tiptoe against the marble floors. Even in the middle of the night, you need not see clearly to find your way. You grew up within these walls, each nook and cranny familiar in a way that you knew them like the back of your hand.
You are only a few steps from your heavenly dessert, the creaminess of this yearâs pumpkin crop on the tip of your tongue, when someoneâs voice stops you in your tracks. Ducking your head around the corner, you notice an unfamiliar figure sitting within a small alcove, looking up at the stars outside the vaulted glass windows.
Draped in shadows and moonlight, he sings a bittersweet song. Even though you didnât recognize the words, you are transfixed on the intricate melodies that are holding you in place. The singer is talented for sure, given the ease of each delivered note and the sugar hanging on his clear tone. It is like nothing you have ever experienced.
When the tune ends, youâre left with a sense of unexplainable emptiness. You have half the mind to demand an encore when the figure turns his head to acknowledge you for the first time.
âPrincess, what are you doing up so late?â Youngjae asks, surprise shining in his eyes as he scrambles to his feet and gives you a bow. His slightly clumsy movements are a bit endearing, as you press your shawl to your mouth to cover the smile underneath.
âAh, you knowâŠjust having a walk,â you grimace, wondering if heâll judge you if you were telling him you were trying to have a second helping of dessert.
âInteresting choice,â he grins.
You wave him off, hoping he understood that he didnât need to be so formal with you. He seems to understand your insinuation immediately, because he returns to his spot in the alcove before waving you over. You hesitate, wondering if you wanted to be caught in such a compromising way.
Screw it, you needed to figure out where he learned to sing so damned well.
Tucking your skirts underneath you, you take a look at the beautifully round full moon hanging in the sky before regarding Elysiaâs prince for the second time today. If it were possible for someone to look better up close, this man would be the prime candidate. His eyes are shining with stars and kindness, and in his casually neat shirt, he is the epitome of a princely figure.
âWhat were you singing earlier?â you ask, fiddling with a stray thread on your shawl.
He pauses for a moment, as if wondering whether he should tell you, before he answers, âAn Elysian lullaby. My mother used to sing to me as a child. This one was my favorite.â
âItâs beautiful. I donât speak Elysian but, you sing really wellâbetter than any performer Iâve ever heard,â you admit, hoping you werenât putting a dent in your plans by complimenting the prince.
His singing ability had to be acknowledged, so youâll give yourself a pass for now.
He blushes, and the way he shyly laughs is adorable. Your next breath lodges in your lungs as you try your best to stop the sudden increase in heart rate you experience. Maybe you shouldâve just gotten your pie and returned to your room.
âThank you, princess. Thatâll be a source of great encouragement for me,â he says, giving you another interesting look before he returns his gaze to the night outside. You wonder if heâs homesick, and you figure that he probably is. As much as you hated having to spend the next month surrounded by the reminder of your impending marriage to a stranger, he probably had his own share of trouble. He was trapped within a foreign land, with no allies to his name. Completely and utterly alone, perhaps the least you could do was make him comfortable. Even if you didnât love him, that didnât mean you couldnât at least treat him respectfully.
âHave you ever performed?â you inquire suddenly, and the suggestion seems to catch him off guard.
âNo, itâs unheard of for a royal to perform. That is usually reserved for the court jesters.â
You laugh, imaging the prince in a jesterâs costume and telling jokes in front of the royal crowd. It was certainly a funny thought, but you were also slightly disappointed that Prince Youngjaeâs singing might never be shared beyond his intimate family. It truly is a tragedy for the world, not to hear such talent.
âDo you want anything from the kitchen? In case you havenât had enough at dinner, Iâm sure thereâs plenty of leftovers,â you hint, hoping that he agrees so you can have your planned pastry.
âIâm quite alright princess, thank you.â
You try not to let the disappointment appear on your face, and even though youâre typically very good at hiding your emotions, Youngjae seems to catch on immediately. When he hums in acknowledgement, you hide your face when he asks, âDid you want something princess?â
You shake your head adamantly, âIâm quite alright as well, prince.â
A grin quickly appears on his face, as he teases you further, âAre you sure? I do remember someone finishing their slice of pumpkin pie in less than 10 seconds. Perhaps we should call one of the scribes to commemorate such a prestigious record.â
âMaybe we should call the scribe to commemorate the nosiest royal to be alive this century!â you quip, quickly clapping a hand over your mouth when you realize how disrespectfully youâve spoken to Prince Youngjae. As you wonder how quickly the man would squeal to his parents, and realizing you couldâve completely ruined Utopia-Elysia relations, the sound of loud hearty laughter saves you from your thoughts.
You had thought someone had caught the two of you, but you quickly realize that the laughter is coming from the prince himself. He holds his stomach in laughter, mouth wide open as his eyes momentarily disappear with each laugh. You watch, completely mesmerized, as pure amusement pours from the boy. He suddenly seemed so much younger, laughing like this.
Beginning to giggle yourself, you quickly pressed your hands to his mouth when you see candlelight flickering in the hallway. Pulling him upright, you dash off to the bedrooms as quickly as you could without making too much noise. You hated to find what rumors would develop if the two of you were found together this late in the evening. To his credit, the prince mirrors your speed and silence all the way to the guest bedroom.
Checking to ensure you werenât followed, you whip your head back towards him. Heâs still hiding his grin behind his hand, and doing a poor job at it, when you glare at him.
âDid you really need to laugh that loudly?â you hiss, but the boy simply looks like heâs about to start laughing again.
You sigh, unable to hide how funny the situation is to you, so you just giggle and dart off with a wave. Pumpkin pie forgotten, when you finally return to the safety of your room, you stay up to stare at your ceiling. Turning over in your sheets, you wonderâ when was the last time you felt that much excitement?
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The next time you see him, Prince Youngjae is taking a stroll through the palace gardens. Even though the blooms arenât as spectacular as they are in spring, your mother had chosen equally beautiful flowers that blossomed during the winter. You catch him admiring the cheerful winter jasmines lining each row, framed by snowdrop flowers. Considering whether approaching him would be the right move, you once again throw caution to the wind when Youngjae catches you staring and gives you a small wave.
âDo you have a favorite?â you ask once youâve walked close enough for him to hear you.
âNot really,â he replies, letting go of the fallen petal in his hand, âItâs enough for me to admire the beauty each one offers.â
âWell said,â you say with a grin.
âWe didnât get your dessert that night. My apologies, princess,â he jokes, and it strikes you then that the prince is a cute but mischievous sort. He appeared to love riling you up, but only as far as you would allow him.
âNot a great first impression,â you admit, letting yourself fully appreciate his laughter now that the two of you were in a more proper environment.
Finding a place to sit and talk further, you allow yourself to acknowledge the truth that you really did enjoy this manâs presence. Even though you were holding onto the notion that you needed to prove that you werenât just an airheaded princess waiting to be married off, perhaps under different circumstances, Youngjae couldâve been your friend. After all, it wasnât everyday that you met a royal who wasnât stuck-up or entitled. It seemed that this prince genuinely appreciates everything life has to offer, and he isnât afraid of having fun with what he finds.
âCall me Y/N. I think after the trouble we went through, it seems fitting enough,â you say, once the conversation takes a short lull.
âYouâll have to call me Youngjae then,â he adds, and you show your agreement by repeating the new title he offers you. He seems to like the way it sounds on your tongue, because his eyes are aglow with delight.
âDo you miss home?â you ask afterwards, curious to see how your new friend is faring.
âDefinitely. No matter how many times Iâve left Elysia, I always miss it with the same fervor,â he admits, and you appreciate the way he opens up to you. It was almost as if he were unafraid of appearances in front of you, and his abrupt honesty was completely foreign to you.
âYou leave often then?â
âA few instances. Iâve had to be involved in some skirmishes at our borders recently,â he sighs, and it appears that Youngjae is also not a big fan of warfare. You note that as well, realizing how much you were growing to admire each of the characteristics of this new prince.
âI suppose thatâs why all of this is happeningâŠmaking alliances to appear strong,â you briefly relent, acknowledging that as much as this union would hurt your pride, it had its use. It was not a frivolous decision for either part, which only made your choice that much more difficult to execute.
âIf itâs to protect my people, itâs a sacrifice to make,â he agrees, âI apologize that you will not be marrying for love, Y/N, but I promise Iâll do my best to not make it torturous.â
He tacks on a joke at the end to ease the tension, but it doesnât hide the fact that his words make your heart waver. Youngjae recognizes what you were giving up and he sympathizes with you. Unlike you, however, he was accepting his fate. Even though he doesnât mention it, you know that he is giving up his free will as well by agreeing to marry you. He would also be closing the door of âwhat if?â because he cared for the citizens under his protection.
You think back to the servants who never fail to curtsy in your presence, the cooks who always let you have a taste of whateverâs cooking because they didnât stand a chance to your puppy-dog eyes, and your closest friend Luce who always takes care of you without a complaint. You remember how her worn hands glide across your skin with the finest skincare in the land, just to ensure that your skin stays youthful at the expense of hers. Your heart pounds with pain.
âIâm sorry,â you breathe, as you struggle not to cry in front of Youngjae.
He grasps your wrist in confusion, worried eyes seeking yours when he says, âDid I say something wrong?â
You pat the back of his hand and try to smile amidst your guilt. Nodding slowly, you say, âI thought that I deserved to fight against this marriage because without my autonomy, Iâd be nothing. But your words, you made me realize that perhaps there are greater things.â
He looks at you with the utmost care and sympathy when he replies, âAgreeing to this doesnât make you weak, Y/N. You will be the strongest queen Utopia has known because you sacrifice for your people.â
When he hugs you in a much-needed, warm embrace, you donât stop him.
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The month passes by in the blink of an eye, and before long, youâve let Youngjae into your life more than youâd like to admit. The boy made you much more playful, as you began skipping some of your studying to join him in playing outside. He seemed like an energetic individual, always wearing a smile and excited to see you. You did your best to keep your distance, but ever since he opened up to you it almost felt natural to do the same.
The day of the wedding rolls around, and even as Luce and a few other servants help you get dressed for the special occasion; you canât help but doubt whether you were making the right decision. Of course, there would be worse men to be in an arranged marriage with, but ultimately this was a choice that would stick by your side for the rest of your reign. You shouldnât tread lightly.
âLuceâŠâ you mumble as soon as the other girls leave to let her braid your hair in an elegant bun in peace.
âToday is a special day in your life your highnessâŠyour life and Prince Youngjaeâs,â Luce begins, giving you her reassuring smile as she braids silver flowers into your braid.
âI know that, I know this is important for our kingdoms, and yet I feel afraid.â
âFear is understandable. Itâs important to fear because it will push you to act. You are not just making a decision for yourself, but for thousands of people,â she finishes with your locks before finally giving your shaking hands a squeeze, âYou have never let us down.â
You give Luce a grateful hug, thankful for her comforting words. When you stand, admiring the long train behind you, the reality of everything begins hitting you all at once. You were marrying Youngjae, the man that recently makes your stomach burst with butterflies and your palms sweaty just from looking at him. You were crazy enough to think that you could eventually love him, and you hoped to the heavens that he considered you in the same way.
âIâve seen the way he looks at you. I wouldnât worry,â Luce muses before opening the door as your entourage stands at the ready outside. You would fire back at her to say that you werenât worried at all, but the sight of the dozen knights standing in full armor to escort you to the grand ballroom is enough to dry your mouth completely.
You knew that the ballroom would be transformed for the wedding, but you didnât expect the beauty dazzling from the high ceilings. Each corner had a fresh bouquet, the beautiful pastel roses making your eyes widen with wonder. The guests consisted of the royals whom previously paid you no heed, but now are openly observing you with interest. You knew that they now respect your new position, and you would soon have to play palace politics. The dread paled in comparison to the surprise that catches in your throat when you see the groom standing at the altar.
Youngjae is dressed in a standard princely attire, but the sparkling crown atop his head and the big grin on his face make all the difference. Seeing him standing ahead of you, waiting for you to be by his side, force you to reconcile with your feelings once again. You were falling for him, from the moment he sang you his favorite song and laughed without a care in the world, you were smitten. He not only acknowledged your fears but reassured you through them, and for that, he was more than deserving to rule alongside you.
âReady?â he whispers after receiving your hand from your father.
With one look at his deep brown eyes swirling with affection, you announce proudly, âIâm ready.â
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