The Makings Of a Prince | Changlix

| VI |

"Are you sure about this?"

No. But a king, though cool-headed, was entitled to risks every once in a while. That was how opportunities sprouted.

Besides, it'd be better if it was just him and Changbin. Having the entire company would only slow them down and expose their location. None of the spies actually know that the two were going to the location (and they would know since the messenger, the spy that was Changbin's friend, died of "natural" causes). And Yongbok didn't quite trust any of the guards yet.

"Of course. Are you questioning my decision?" Yongbok questions, arching an eyebrow as Chan perked up, shaking his head.

"No, Your Highness, but..." they both turn to Changbin, who waited on a horse that Chan graciously got him ways away, arching an eyebrow at the two as they turn back toward each other. "If His Majesty learns about this—"

"Changbin doesn't know I'm the prince, yet. And it'll stay that way," Yongbok murmurs, clearing his throat and flashing a smile at the curly-haired individual. Yongbok decided that Chan wasn't half-bad. He was a guard, yes (an awful one, but a guard nonetheless), but he had that sense of normality Yongbok couldn't find anywhere else. It wasn't apparent, but Yongbok could still see it there. Between the tough front and the respectful dialect, there was a sense that he treated Yongbok like a—well—a human being. "Besides, I'm the one writing the report to the king, aren't I? I could always make up some events."

So Yongbok flashes a smile toward the individual again, a silent reassurance that he'd be fine, before climbing onto his horse.

"I don't know when we'll be back. But I'm pretty sure that if we're gone for more than a month, that means we're dead," Yongbok says, turning to Changbin. "If the guards ask where I am, tell them I'm investigating privately."

Yongbok and Changbin spur their horses into a walk, turning away from Chan as they begin their journey together.

"Your high—" Yongbok immediately turns his head back toward Chan, running toward him, eyes wide as the guard clears his throat with a cough, making a gesture to bow apologetically before halting. Luckily, Changbin didn't seem to notice, barely stopping his horse to turn back toward the curly-haired guard. "Your—uhm—your sword. Take mine," Chan says, Yongbok arching an eyebrow as the older already made way to untie Yongbok's from the saddle and replace it with his own. "If anyone sees your sword, they'll see that you're someone important."

"Ah, yes." Yongbok smiles, nodding. "Thank you, Bang Chan."

And Bang Chan smiles at him. Nothing grand, nothing special.

But it still felt real. 

---

Yongbok wasn't a stranger to the wilderness. Sometimes, back in Ungjin, he'd lead hunting parties with other guards. He understood the rules of traveling with company, knew what he should and shouldn't do setting up camp for the night. And he knew how to backtrack if they were to get lost.

However, the open countryside proved to be a lot more of a challenge than the compact mountainous capital. Without a multitude of guards looking out for him, they almost felt vulnerable during their trek across the plains, like sheep straying from their flock.

They were sort of in this gray area—where they were technically within Baekje territory. However, it's too far from the mainland that it might as well be Gaya's. It meant that this area was much more prone to danger.