The Makings Of a Prince | Changlix

| XII |

"Now, seeing you fishing is completely absurd."

Were they friends? Maybe. Maybe not...

But really, if Yongbok asked himself a little over a month ago if he thought he and Seo Changbin could get along, he would laugh, slap himself and go on about his day. Changbin was just... Surely, this wasn't Seo Changbin.

The days following their return to the village, Changbin did nothing but take care of the freckled prince. Of course, he went on about his chores after checking up on the younger, though only to return every time he passed by to see if Yongbok was okay.

Yongbok would always reassure him he was fine, living and breathing now and the next time Changbin checks up on him, and the next, and so on.

It didn't stop the older from checking up on him, anyway.

While Yongbok was used to the pampering from his days at the palace, here was a little different in the way that Changbin talked and saw him. While the handmaids and eunuchs back at the palace talked to him with a such enormous distance (Yongbok doesn't exactly mean physically even though that sometimes applied), like they weren't there, even though they stood before him. Almost like mannequins with the way they talked to him—they were eunuchs and handmaids, after all. They couldn't get close to royalty without permission, even if they took care of them.

Changbin, on the other hand, even though aware of the present fact that Yongbok was the crown prince, continued to talk comfortably with him—though a little more respectful than when they first met. Like he was ever-present when talking to Yongbok, not becoming a mannequin to save himself from the wrath of the throne.

He was really putting himself out there. And even though he was rough around the edges, getting to know him more, Yongbok realized how caring he was to people he knew. Of course, Yongbok didn't know if they would ever get to the level of... something more than warm acquaintances? But he was happy with where they were now.

By the river, after long days convincing the older that he was fine and in need of sun. Changbin finally agreed that morning, especially since Yongbok was leaving the next day. Or at least Yongbok said. He was well enough to journey back to Ungjin, and there was no need to prolong his mission anymore. The king expected him. He's been away from his proper duties for far too long.

"How so?" Yongbok hums, tugging on the line.

"I mean, I could kind of see you fishing as a general. But as a prince?? There's no way in hell!"

"I'm telling you, my brother taught me."

"Who is also a damn prince, I'm assuming. Which makes no goddamn sense."

"Hey, we have hobbies too, you know," the freckled prince scoffs, successfully catching other fish. He kills it mercifully, placing it into the basket.

"Yeah, I know. But I thought it'd be... I don't know, horseback riding? Archery? Poetry? Not... fishing. That's peasant work, for people like me. Not a hobby for princes. I mean, fish are slippery, slimy, smelly. Surely, you don't want to handle that."

"It sounds like you don't enjoy fishing. If you don't want to fish, just say. I'll do it." Yongbok smiles brightly, handing the fishing rod back to the farmer. "But it's just something that always calmed me, so I didn't really care."

"Oh, no, no. Keep it," Changbin says, pushing the pole back to the younger. "I know you broke your fishing rod during the mission, and I know it's not made by someone special like your brother or someone professionally but... Keep it. At least until you get a new one."