gilded sacrifice
The mid-August sun blazed in the afternoon, its rays burning into the air. The blue sky stretched overhead and a faint breeze occasionally swept through his long hair, cooling him for just a moment as he made his way through the village.
Beomgyu walked along the streets of Hanyang, tasked to pick up the new garments that the Queen had ordered from the village seamstress.
As he made his way through, Beomgyu's eyes roved over the conditions of the main village, their thatched roofs worn and sagging, the road lined with stands of merchants, little to no sense of privacy and yet despite the conditions the looks on their faces were ones of contentment.
The common people led simple lives, difficult ones yet simple. Children played with wooden toys while vendors called out, selling their wares— fresh produce, handmade trinkets, and spices.
Beomgyu couldn’t help but observe the way everyone else functioned, how they went about their days and the environment they lived in. His gaze lingered on a mother playing with her son and a twisted knot of envy gnawed within ever so slightly. He quickly tore his eyes away, focusing on his errand and continuing forward.
The seamstress's shop came into view, the wooden sign creaked and the aroma of freshly dyed fabric filled the air. Beomgyu entered, greeted by a weary look from the seamstress. It was obvious there was a hint of judgment veiled behind a veneer of politeness.
She recognized him, her eyes lowered onto the small, golden crested pin on the left side of his jeogori— the crest of the Royal House of Choi.
"Good day," she said neutrally yet the spike of aversion in her jasmine scent says otherwise.
The long haired male bowed, "I have come for Her Majesty's order.”
The seamstress handed him a beautifully wrapped package and the fabric within undoubtedly of the finest quality. He felt the weight of the heavy pouch of coins he handed over in payment.
She accepted it with a grumble, her eyes never meeting his. Beomgyu felt his mouth turn into a small frown but he said nothing. This type of treatment was expected for someone like him and there was nothing he could do to change that, he was used to it.
Without a word of thanks, she turned away, and Beomgyu began his journey back to the royal grounds. As he approached the gates, the air seemed to cool and the heat softened by the shade of grand trees and the mountain.
With one look, anyone could tell the contrast between the village and the palace was stark. The royal grounds was a haven, magnificent, a world away from the simplicity of life in Hanyang.
Ancient trees with sprawling branches lined the paths, statues stood along the walkways, and the scent of breeze and flowers mingled with the crisp air, the smell of summer.
Walking towards the Queen's palace, Beomgyu felt and ignored the lingering stares from those who noticed him. Queen Eunyoung's quarters were grand, separate from the other buildings due to her status.
She was well-liked and respected by common people and wealthier ones alike, the only daughter of legendary Battalion Commander Myungsoo of House Kang, a wealthy clan from the North, and a female alpha.
Many say that she’s the first Queen of the Joseon Dynasty to ever deserve the title, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but agree. After all, she’s the very reason why he’s bearing the crest dedicated to the royal family.
Entering the corridors, he neared the entrance to her chambers, and before he could even announce himself, a kind voice called out, "Come in, Beomgyu," as she could sense his very presence.
The room was decorated with paintings depicting legendary battles and landscapes. Gold glimmered through the curtains, and silks draped elegantly over plush cushions.
Queen Eunyoung stood at the center, a figure of grace and power, her eyes softening as she saw him.
"Your Majesty," Beomgyu greeted, bowing deeply. Her scent was one of spruce and nutmeg, suiting the alpha from the north yet comforting and inviting.
It lingered all throughout her chamber and she also knowingly let hers out around him, a symbol of trust.
"It’s nice to see your face," she said warmly, "I see you have returned with the garments."
He nodded before unwrapping the new clothing and revealing three sets of hanboks. One set was a rich red, to the colors of the House of Kang; another was a delicate green; and the last was a deep, regal blue.
Each set was embroidered with intricate patterns and small details that truly reflected the upscale and exclusive nature of the Royal Family. Without a doubt, they were garments worth the price.
"These are exquisite," Queen Eunyoung said, her eyes sparkling with approval.
She began to undress, handing the clothes to Beomgyu to place behind her dressing screen. He complied, and began to help the Queen change into her new sets. As her maidservant, this was his main task— to obey and support her with her needs.
Traditionally, most maidservants of any female royal were to be female themselves but he was an exception.
"What do you think, Beomgyu?" she asked, trying on each set and seeking his opinion. Queen Eunyoung, although older and matured, was still undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women in the land with pale skin, smile lines, and long, black hair that was styled with the most expensive jewelry. And her kindness only accentuated her beauty.
"They are magnificent, Your Majesty. Each one more gorgeous than the last," he replied honestly, though he hid his awe. His gaze flickered to his own attire—worn and faded and muted.
When she tried on the final set, the rich, red one, she squealed out loud and exclaimed, "This is the one!"
"Is this your pick for the upcoming celebration, Your Majesty?" Beomgyu inquired, cleaning up and reorganizing the garments that now laid all over the floor.
"Oh absolutely, after all, my dear son loves the color red." she replied with a smile.
Beomgyu felt his mood naturally sour but he managed to nod. "It will be perfect, Your Majesty. He will love it."
“He better, these types of garments are costly. But knowing him and his ignorance, I doubt he would even care.” Queen Eunyoung tsked, “That rascal, I do much for him but he refuses to do the one thing I ask.”
Beomgyu stifled his laughter at her ranting, but he inquired, “Which may be?”
"Why get married, of course! He has been at mating age for over a year now, but he still prefers to mess around rather than find a suitor. He cares more for his swords and liquor than for love," she ranted with a fond chuckle, “And it is the only thing I ask of him!”
"Well, the Crown Prince has always been a bit wild, Your Majesty." He sighed, feeling his body go numb at the mere mention of the man.
She laughed, a melodious sound that filled the room. "That is what I like about you, Beomgyu. You are always so honest."
She paused, her gaze growing distant. "I remember when you and Yeonjun were young. Both of you such loose threads, always bickering and such. But thankfully, you have grown out of it."
Beomgyu felt himself halt momentarily, involuntarily reminiscing of such times, and a vile feeling rising within him, but he quickly suppressed it.
He cleared his throat, "We have both changed a lot, Your Majesty."
Queen Eunyoung stared at him for a moment before sighing. "Yes, you have both changed." She looked at him with a softness that made his heart ache.
“He is still out of control, but you, well you have grown into a beautiful, young man, Beomgyu.”
He turned around, flustered, and made eye contact with the Queen who looked at him with such fondness, a look that he rarely received.
He suddenly felt self-conscious, aware of the way his dark brown hair brushed against his neck and how overgrown it was, the way his jeogori clinged to the frailness of his body, the calluses on his hands and feet. Beautiful? He couldn’t fathom it.
“No one has ever told me that, Your Majesty.” He spoke softly, giving her a bow in respect.
“No, but I know they are undoubtedly thinking it.” She paused, “People insulted me for keeping you under my wing because of your background, but it is the only decision I have never regretted."
Beomgyu felt his face morph into one of appreciation and before, he could thank her even more, she cooed and pinched his cheek gently and laughed.
"Look at you, my dear, so easy to dote on." She then stepped behind the dressing screen once more, beginning to change back into her other clothes.
"You’re working the dinner tonight, aren’t you?” She asked, and the omega nodded. “Are you visiting your mother before or after?"
"Oh— before the dinner, Your Majesty" Beomgyu replied hastily, composing himself once more and focusing on the task at hand.
"Please send my greetings to her. My schedule has been so packed, I have not been able to visit soon enough," she spoke with a hint of regret.
"I will let her know, Your Majesty. And I will also update you on how she has been," He assured her.
Queen Eunyoung stepped out, and thanked him, a warm smile gracing her lips. "You may be on your way now, Beomgyu. I’ll see you after the dinner then."
With a deep bow, Beomgyu took his leave, the weight of the queen's words lingering in his mind as he made his way back through the corridors of the royal grounds.
———
Beomgyu’s earliest memories consist of his mother.
She was a timid woman with rough, tan hands and harsh wrinkles, and in these memories she tended to people with much softer, paler hands who wore clothes of quality and color far beyond the muted, torn ones she wore. These people carried an aura of power that dwarfed women like his mother and boys like him.
His mother, a beta, was part of the majority, the norm, easily subdued. She came from poverty, and being a handmaiden afforded her little authority in her subservient role.
In this world, your place in the hierarchy consisted of two aspects— wealth and biology. One you couldn't control, and the other you could barely influence. If you were poor and a beta, your choices were limited. Being a handmaiden was a somewhat respectable job, and perhaps becoming one was the only stroke of luck his mother ever had.
At a young age, she became the trusted handmaiden of, arguably, the second most powerful person in Korea, Queen Eunyoung. The Queen, adored by the common people for her charitable nature and beauty, was an alpha married to another powerful alpha, King Hyunseok, head of the noble Royal House of Choi, and the fourth monarch of the Great Joseon Dynasty.
Queen Eunyoung and his mother got along very well despite their vastly different backgrounds. The Queen favored his mother so much that she allowed her to live on the royal grounds. This wasn't uncommon; those who earned the trust of the wealthy were often housed nearby. But when his mother became pregnant and gave birth to him, her luck seemingly ran out.
An omega, that’s what he was. A male omega at that.
And the reason behind his suffering and his mother’s suffering.
Omegas were rare and cherished, but male omegas were even rarer, usually coming from families of wealth and power. Those without money or influence faced exploitation, whether in prostitution or as forced concubines. Beomgyu was none of these; he was the son of a poor, beta handmaiden, and his father was unknown.
His birth caused an uproar, according to his mother, the Queen, and those old enough to remember. High-ranking officials, influential people, and gossipers condemned the idea of a bastard omega, especially a male omega, living righteously on royal grounds.
They deemed his existence untraditional, sacrilegious, and insulting. They deemed him a nuisance.
If it wasn’t for Queen Eunyoung and her kindness, his mother and he would have been cast out the very second he came into this world smelling of orange blossom and honey.
Growing up on royal grounds was both a blessing and a curse for Beomgyu. On one hand, they never worried about having a roof over their heads or food in their stomachs. On the other hand, they were still servants, slaves to the hierarchy and those in control, those with demands.
And yet his mother always made it clear that if it wasn’t for him, her life could have been much easier.
How does one explain to their child that they are treated differently for the simple reason of existing? Beomgyu knew the answer— you don’t. Instead, you let them figure it out themselves. And that he did.
So, at the ripe age of four, Beomgyu came to understand that the world around him obeyed one rule and one rule only— your rank defined your fate. And at this tender age, Beomgyu also grasped the harsh reality that because of this rule, the world was incredibly unyielding and unforgiving.
The scorching sun began its descent, and Beomgyu made his way to the far corner of the expansive estate. His destination was the infirmary, but first, he took a detour, stopping by the royal garden.
The garden was in bloom with flowers of roses, lilies, and chrysanthemums. Beomgyu carefully selected a handful of the most beautiful blooms before continuing on.
The infirmary was hidden away, an unassuming building shrouded in the shade of tall trees. Its purpose was housing those who had fallen ill and could no longer serve the bustling palace. Beomgyu's mother had been bed-ridden here for the past four years, her condition neither improving or worsening.
As he walked the path, his mind drifted to his early years, filled with memories of working alongside his mother.
She had taught him the intricacies of the royal world— the meticulous tasks, the precise way of speaking, the unspoken rules of servitude. Her lessons were delivered with a stern hand and a sharp tongue, born out of necessity rather than affection.
She had drilled into him the reality of his position: a male omega with limited prospects, who could only hope to become the best servant possible. Any failure would mean a life sold to the highest bidder, whether as a servant to a wealthy official or as a kisaeng, a fate no omega would enjoy.
When Beomgyu reached the age of fifteen, his mother had fallen ill suddenly. The queen had spared no effort in seeking a cure, but no doctor could diagnose the sickness. The symptoms were there, but their cause confused even the most learned physicians.
Her condition deteriorated rapidly, rendering her unable to walk or fulfill her duties. Queen Eunyoung, in her generosity, had arranged for her indefinite stay in the infirmary and appointed Beomgyu as her maidservant soon after. And for five years, he had made sure to visit her daily.
He approached the infirmary with a heavy heart, the flowers clutched in his hand. Entering the cool, dimly lit corridor, he made his way to his mother's room. The infirmary was quiet, the air thick with the scent of medicinal herbs and the faint rustle of caretakers tending to the sick.
Beomgyu's footsteps echoed softly as he walked, pushing open the door to her room, he did not announce himself. There was no need; he was her only visitor.
His mother lay on the narrow bed, her hair dark and lifeless, eyes dull and weary. He greeted her softly, placing the fresh flowers in the vase beside her bed, replacing the wilted ones. She did not look at him, her gaze fixed on the window, staring out at the scenery.
"Mother, I brought you some new flowers, these are in bloom." he said gently, arranging them with care. The silence was oppressive, his words swallowed by the void between them.
He began, "The Queen sends her regards, as well. She plans to visit soon, but the palace is busy with preparations for the Crown Prince's birthday celebrations later this month."
He pulled over a chair as he spoke, bringing it to the edge of her bed and sat down.
Then continued, “Tonight, there’s a dinner in order to discuss future plans regarding the Crown Prince. Many officials are joining, quite interesting isn’t it?” A faint hum was her only response.
He felt his hands clutch at his sides, a frustration only caused by his mother. But he wouldn’t let his frustration show, no, not in front of her. She has gone through too much already. He cleared his throat, letting the silence pass for a second more.
“How has the new treatment from the doctor felt? Any improvement at all?” He asked gently, standing there awaiting some sort of response only to be met with the same silence as before.
It was tense and suffocating to be around the woman who gave him life. He dealt with this treatment because, after all, she is the only family he has and he is her only son. And yet she had no issue with making him feel as if he was the singular bane of her existence, and maybe he was.
Beomgyu hated how desperate he felt for any acknowledgment, for any sign of affection. His memories of her were more as a mentor than a mother, her teachings devoid of maternal warmth.
For a long time, he had believed that was the natural order of things, but he had quickly realized otherwise. He had seen how other mothers cared for their children, how Queen Eunyoung doted on her sons, even how his mother had once shown more affection for her sons than she ever had for him.
He remembers, with a pang, the courage it had taken to ask her if she loved him when he was twelve.
And he remembers how she laughed, harsh and unfeeling. The first and only time he had heard her laugh towards him. Her response was cold yet clear, without hesitation she told him that he did not deserve to be loved by her. Words that had scarred him deeply and yet here he is, still chasing after her like a lost puppy.
Pushing those painful memories aside, he cleared his throat. "Is there anything you need, Mother? Anything I can bring you? I’ll come by tomorrow regardless."
Silence met his question again. With a sigh of defeat, he stood up and put the chair back, the sound of its dragging reverberating throughout the room. He began to bid her farewell, turning to leave the room.
Just as he reached the door, her voice, rough and sore from disuse, stopped him. "Send my greetings to the Crown Prince," she stated, her words piercing the stillness.
Something twisted painfully within Beomgyu. His mouth formed a thin line as he nodded, the sick feeling spreading through him.
At times like this, he’s grateful his mother is a beta or she would smell the pungent scent that he was unable to suppress, one filled with a subdued anger and jealousy. His scent, one of orange blossom and honey, rotted the more upset he felt.
But her words rang in his head, that an omega should be able to control his emotions and his scent, so he composed himself, "I will, Mother," he promised softly.
With that, he left the room, the heavy weight of her words and the strained silence pressing down on him. The infirmary's dim corridors seemed to close in on him as he made his way out, the oppressive heat of the day waiting for him outside.
He clutched the memory of his mother's indifference to his chest. Even in this state, weak and bed-ridden, unable to function normally, she still cares for her position with the royal family rather than the estranged relationship with her son.
Queen Eunyoung, with her kind eyes and gentle demeanor, was a world apart from his mother. Her warmth, and her unwavering support had been his lifeline. Yet, even her affection couldn't fully heal the wounds inflicted by his mother's rejection.
———
Weeks from now, as the long, burning summer begins to turn into the coolness of Autumn, a grand celebration is taking place here on the royal estate. A celebration for the birthday of Crown Prince Yeonjun.
And the Queen demanded to be the one to organize it which meant Beomgyu’s time was simply dedicated to setting up and preparing for the celebration in hopes to make it exactly perfect.
Other powerful and wealthy families would be in attendance, and this was the chance to show the luxury and grandeur of the Royal Family. The common people themselves are throwing their own festival in light of his birthday, a token of appreciation for the Crown Prince.
Therefore, it was a big deal.
So, before the dinner, Beomgyu made sure to complete his duties and oversee the progress. His first task led him to the bustling palace kitchens, where the scent of spices mingled with the clang of utensils. At this stage, most of the food is beginning its fermentation process so there wasn’t much to check on.
Once the culinary preparations were ensured, Beomgyu made his way to the banquet hall, where decorators labored tirelessly to sew and thread banners and tapestries that would line the hall in hues of gold and red, a testament to the Crown Prince's regal lineage.
Continuing to check the preparations, Beomgyu made his way to the rehearsal grounds where performers, under the watchful eye of the head choreographer, began to choreograph dances and tunes. The Crown Prince had a preference for the arts, and the Queen demanded it be the main form of entertainment for the night.
These duties were not just tasks to him; they were an obligation of obedience and survival in a world where his very existence bore the weight of stigma and unspoken rules.
Every interaction with the palace staff, every nod to tradition and protocol, reinforced his status as an omega and a servant, a role defined by boundaries that he could not cross. Although many did not respect him as a person, they respected the work he did as the Queen’s maidservant.
He was an extremely efficient one.
Beomgyu made his way towards the training grounds where the royal blacksmith awaited. The Queen’s personal gift was a sword crafted for the Crown Prince gleamed with designs, a symbol of honor and reverence, yet also a reminder of the expectations placed upon him. And this was the most important task he had to ensure was perfect.
As he approached the training grounds, the distant clang of metal against metal echoed as the Crown Prince and his companions engaged in a sparring match.
Beomgyu hesitated, his gaze drawn reluctantly towards the spectacle of strength. But he continued forward, ignoring any eye contact. It was then that a certain voice, sharp and cutting, pierced the air.
"It couldn’t possibly be— is that Beomgyu?" The Crown Prince’s tone held an edge of mockery, echoed by the amused chuckles of his noble companions, Lord Daesung and Lord Seongin, sons from the esteemed House of Lee, and Prince Royal Soobin, Yeonjun's younger brother.
Beomgyu halted, his body tense with defiance and resignation as he turned to face them, his expression schooled into neutrality.
The Crown Prince stood there, a smug, familiar look on his face. He was drenched in sweat, wearing nothing but the undershirt of a jeogori, and loose pants; clothes fit for training yet promiscuous and revealing to most.
The omega hated how the Prince looked much like the loving Queen—well-defined features with a head full of black hair, tall with a lean yet muscular build. A look fitting of the future king, a look fitting of a strong, captivating alpha.
Beomgyu isn’t blind, the son of the most beautiful woman in all the land is an attractive one, yet the second he opens his mouth, his looks go to ruins.
Yeonjun's gaze narrowed, walking towards the long haired male, his dominance palpable as he scrutinized the omega. "What business does someone like you have here?" His voice dripped with condescension.
Summoning his composure, Beomgyu inclined his head respectfully. "The Queen has entrusted me with important tasks," he replied evenly, his voice betraying none of the turmoil raging within him.
Yeonjun's smirk widened, a cruel twist of his lips that sent a shiver down Beomgyu's spine.
"Omegas aren't allowed on the training grounds, much less servants," He retorted, his voice laced with derision. "Do you defy the law to follow my mother's orders like a bitch?"
Beomgyu clenched his fists, the frustration boiling beneath his calm exterior. "I understand the rules," he replied through gritted teeth, meeting the Prince’s gaze with unwavering resolve. "But the Queen's tasks cannot wait."
The omega began to walk forward, desperate to break free from any interaction with the elder male. But the Crown Prince had other plans, grabbing his upper arm tightly and forcing him in place. The touch felt like fire on his skin as if it burned through his jeogori, as if he could feel the utter power the alpha emits through one singular touch.
Beomgyu felt his breath hitch as the grip tightened, the mere touch was enough to send him over the edge. Yeonjun's laughter rang out at this, mocking, "Always so compliant," he taunted, taking a step closer until their faces were mere inches apart.
"What happened to the Beomgyu who would at least put up a fight?"
Memories surged within Beomgyu, memories of a time when defiance had marked his spirit, a spirit that had been broken by circumstance and consequence.
"Things change," he muttered hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the distant clang of swords. "You know what happened better than anyone else."
Yeonjun's expression darkened, his scent seeping through, one that screamed of discomfort. The scent broke through Beomgyu's defenses, feeling his omega cower.
He smelled of cinnamon and cedarwood, a rich and grounding scent that suited his alpha perfectly. And, God, how Beomgyu hated that the mere whiff of his scent was able to subdue him so easily.
For a fleeting moment, the air crackled with unspoken tension, a tension born of years of silent grievances. He looked him up and down, as if he was analyzing the very appearance of the omega and Beomgyu felt as if the gaze was to swallow him whole.
If you were to ask anyone, they would describe the proclaimed Jewel of Joseon as a striking figure whose presence captivates all who cross his path. He’s an alpha, powerful and commanding who exudes a charm that is both alluring and impossible to ignore. Anyone who knows of the Joseon Dynasty, also knows of him and his potential as the future king.
Tales of his magnetic and formidable presence are perpetually gossiped about in the halls of the palace and the bustling streets of Hanyang. His popularity knows no bounds, enchanting both men and women alike.
Without a doubt, Yeonjun is intelligent and his undeniable capability mark him as a future great leader. His father, the King, recognizing these extraordinary qualities, appointed him as Crown Prince with great pride.
As the eldest of four sons born to Queen Eunyoung, Yeonjun stands out even more among his siblings. He has three sisters from his father's concubines and another brother, yet none can match his brilliance and charisma.
He is not just the jewel of the royal family, but also the very heart and soul of the dynasty's promising future.
If you were to ask Beomgyu how to describe the proclaimed Jewel of Joseon, he wouldn’t even give you the time of day to do so. To him, the “charming and brilliant” Yeonjun was nothing but an arrogant alpha who uses his position of power to get what he wants. Not much different than most high ranking officials or families of wealth and influence.
But there is a difference in the sense that Yeonjun has personally had it out for him ever since they were young.
Growing up as the son of the handmaiden to the Queen also meant growing up alongside the sons of the Queen herself. And without a doubt, as the dynasty grew to love the oh-so promising eldest son of the fourth monarch, Beomgyu grew to hate him.
He’s known the elder his entire life, and each passing year, his disdain for him grows increasingly stronger. Due to their closeness in age, the Prince practically made it his mission to make the omega’s life to make it even more miserable than it already is.
When they were younger, the elder used to humiliate him and tease him. Force him to do his biddings, blame him for his poor behavior, bully him because he knew there was no consequence for it. There was no incentive behind this poor treatment besides that he was a powerful prince, enabled by the people around him, and the latter a powerless servant who could no nothing about it. Classic.
His mother would prohibit the omega from defending himself, but after she grew sick and was sent away, Beomgyu began to defend himself. He was sixteen the first time he defended himself, and seventeen the last time he did so, due to finding out the difficult way of the punishment of standing your ground to a royal.
After that incident, the both of them stood down. Due to the cruelty of said incident, Yeonjun perhaps realized the issues of his behavior. Although he still teased him now and then, the prince kept his distance physically. Beomgyu, though, ignored the elder as much as he possibly could. But they still ran into each other from time to time, and when they did, the Crown Prince made sure to at least irritate the omega, finding it humorous.
Then, with an abrupt gesture, Yeonjun released his hold on Beomgyu's arm, the touch lingering like a brand. "Cut your hair before tonight's dinner," he commanded, his tone imperious yet tinged with something Beomgyu couldn't quite place.
"I won't have an unruly omega ruining our image."
The long haired male swallowed hard, his throat tight with a mixture of anger and resignation. He nodded, the weight of his compliance heavy upon him as he turned away, ignoring the smug looks exchanged between Yeonjun's companions. Soobin's gaze, however, held a hint of sympathy.
Regaining his composure, Beomgyu continued towards the blacksmith's forge. The design of the sword, the craftsmanship and dedication, was a gift that would hopefully earn the Queen's approval and perhaps a fleeting sense of accomplishment.
It was perfect, just as he’d imagined.
After ensuring all tasks were meticulously attended to, Beomgyu made his way back to his own chambers.
Despite living a life that most male omegas should be grateful for, he felt burdened by the complexities of his life. He was grateful nonetheless for being housed and sheltered, fed and healthy. But, strip that away and he was still nothing but an omega living a life he didn’t deserve.
He felt like a bird housed into the wrong cage, stuck and outcasted. And the treatment he got from those around him only strengthened that feeling. Often he was met with looks of hate, judgment. Contempt in the way they spoke to him, of uncomfort. Servants, just like him, usually ignored him and only fulfilled their tasks alongside him if needed, even though it was recommended to create good relations with your fellow maidservants.
Therefore, he preferred to work alone, away from their distaste of him. High ranking officials or other members of the Royal Family chose not to acknowledge his presence whatsoever, and the times they did was to either insult him or have someone do their dirty work.
One memory he’ll never forget was when he was about sixteen, the age you present physically and tap into the natural instincts of your subgender.
Most boys his age were now developing into a stronger frame, a larger build as male alphas and betas were more masculine than anything. And yet he developed features that were more feminine, bearing a smaller frame and curves that began to shape his body. It was obvious he was the male omega, the nuisance that the palace loathed.
This memory was during a dinner of sorts where the King had invited many of his personal connections to dine alongside him and his own sons. He took part of this dinner as cupbearer, pouring and serving wine.
As he was serving wine for Minister Daeho, an influential beta who was a renowned merchant, the man took one look at him and became so enraged that he stood up and smacked him straight across the face. Shouting at him, asking how dare he, a bastard omega, touch the drink of a noble.
The action was so violent, his words so harsh yet no one at the dinner said anything. King Hyunseok, however, simply moved on by saying that the young omega will only serve him, to comfort everyone else.
So, the young boy spent the rest of the night pouring wine for the King with a stinging, red mark on his face and an ugly feeling unfurling in his chest.
Moments such as those solidified Beomgyu's own understanding of where he stood in the hierarchy. He learned exactly what was expected of him, what he could and could not do. For he was a male omega with no power, disrespect from others was expected.
And he soon learned the best way to handle it, is to accept it rather than fight against it. Fighting against it only leads to worse treatment, which he also learned the hard way.
Sighing, he stripped off his clothes and prepared a bath for himself. Looking into the reflection of the warm water, he examined his face and body closely. Beautiful isn’t the first word that came to mind— unruly was.
His hair reached to the middle of his neck, overgrown and dark. “I do need a haircut soon.” He murmured to himself, running his rough hands through his hair.
Stepping into the tub, he looked at the body laid in front of him. His arms and legs scarred and bruised from working in servitude from a young age, calluses on his fingers and soles of his feet. There were certain scars on the sides of his back, due to punishment and those he hated the most.
Although his skin was rough, his hips were full and round, body line curvy, meant for the sole purpose of child-bearing. His shoulders squared yet smaller, and he was skinny, frail— exactly the characteristics of a male omega.
In moments like this, admiring the natural build of his subgender, Beomgyu has no shame of being an omega.
As much as he detests what being one implies, he loves the femininity of it all. One day, he hopes to be a father and to have children of his own. Hopefully, when he does, he is free. Free from the regal splendor of the palace, from the contempt of the people, from the cold indifference of his mother.
The thought of living a life where he is absolved of any chains and judgment is what allows him to carry on. So alas, he remained a humble servant, navigating this world defined by its hierarchy.
Drying himself off, he looked out to see the sun that had already set and he quickly dressed himself in a muted, dark green jeogori and not forgetting to put on the crest.
The Crown Prince had told him to cut his hair, but looking out to the sun that had set, there was no time to. He had a dinner to attend in fact, a dinner where he would once again be cupbearer for the royal counsel.
———
In the heart of the dining hall, where regalness met tradition, the air crackled with tension as the two heads of royal family and their closest allies convened. Massive crystal chandeliers bathed the long, polished mahogany table, each seat was a throne in its own right, occupied by men of influence, whose very presence spoke of power and ambition— the Royal Council.
It was a room in which someone like Beomgyu felt suffocated to simply set foot in, but it was his duty to serve and serve he would. Among the servants, Beomgyu stood out—not for his attire but because he was the rare male omega in a sea of male alpha and beta dominance.
He moved carefully, pouring wine with steady hands that belied the storm of unease beneath his calm facade. Whispers and sidelong glances followed him, but he ignored it.
King Hyunseok, his stature commanding reverence, sat at the head of the table with an aura of an authoritative alpha. Beside him, Crown Prince Yeonjun sat rigidly, his expression a mask of composure concealing the something within. He knew tonight's dinner was not merely a social gathering but a calculated maneuver in the game of thrones.
The evening began with polite chatter and laughter. Topics about political deals, current negotiations, the necessities that the young prince must be prepared to handle when he becomes king. But the elephant in the room was the topic of marriage and finding a suitable mate.
A topic that laid underneath a thin ice that shattered the moment Lord Baekho, a wealthy politician known for his cunning, broached the topic of the Crown Prince's future.
"My King," Lord Baekho's voice rang out, cutting through the din with a mix of deference and authority. "Surely, it is time we consider the Crown Prince's marriage prospects. Hyeyeon, my daughter, would make a most suitable match."
The proposal hung in the air like a challenge, met with a chorus of nods and murmurs of agreement from some corners of the room yet dissent was swift.
"Lord Baekho," General Hyejin's voice cut through, a hint of distaste beneath his respectful tone, "While your daughter is esteemed, we must consider broader alliances. The south—"
"And the east," Minister Jae-suk, a diplomat, added "Their interests cannot be overlooked."
As the debate unfolded, Yeonjun's silence became increasingly more noticeable.
The omega noticed the way his jaw clenched, fingers tightening imperceptibly around the goblet before him. The long haired male watched discreetly, attuned to the shifts in power between them all. It is no secret that the Crown Prince is not fond of marriage, specifically mating with someone. At least not currently.
He’s known for his loveless and risky affairs, the celebrations and parties he attends filled with kisaengs, and this neglect to settle down has caused a headache for the royal council as well as his parents.
He is turning 22 this upcoming birthday, and it is nearing the age where he is expected to mate. Most men of his status and age have already done so, but as the Crown Prince he gets an exception as he is expected to mate someone suitable enough to rule alongside him.
The process is difficult, mating ceremonies that draw in the most suitable, young marriage prospects are tough. Therefore, this dinner is the best time to conclude when to hold one. King Hyunseok, sensing the mounting bickering, raised a hand, his voice a low rumble that cut through the rising tension.
“Gentlemen," he began, his gaze sweeping across the room with unwavering authority. "Let us not lose sight of our purpose here. Yeonjun's ascension is paramount. Next fall is said to be the best harvest in years, there isn’t a better time for a mating ceremony then, don’t you think?"
A collective chatter of agreement rippled through the assembly, yet the air remained thick with unmet expectations.
Lord Baekho, seizing the moment with practiced precision, leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the prince. "My King, with your blessing," he continued, "we must act swiftly. The future of our alliances hangs in the balance—"
Before he could finish, Minister Daeho, interjected with a smile that held a hint of mischief,
"Summer approaches bearing great fruits, my lords," he remarked in a way that demanded attention. "Perhaps then would be the opportune time for such arrangements."
Beomgyu felt his body freeze at the voice of the same man who slapped him so violently not many years ago, each of his words bringing him back to that vile memory.
Minister Daeho is a powerful man, a merchant who controls a majority of the trade in and out of Korea, a valuable asset yet a horrid man. His suggestion ignited a flurry of voices, each vying to advocate for their favored candidates and alliances.
The Crown Prince’s facade, always simmering beneath the surface, seemed to crumble as the pressure mounted, the omega eyeing how he began to clutch his cup more harshly.
Although the beginning of next summer is under a year away, it is quite a short time frame to arrange an event such as the mating ceremony.
"And what of his preferences?" Lord Baekho’s question cut through the tumult, his eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on said male, “The Crown Prince must have opinions on this matter."
Yeonjun's gaze flickered briefly towards Beomgyu, who stood silently by the royal family's side. There was a tense pause, the weight of expectation heavy upon the Prince’s shoulders.
"Summer is too soon. It is not wise to mate then." Yeonjun's voice rang out, a bold declaration. His tone brooked no argument, his eyes locking defiantly with those of the minister.
Minister Daeho arched an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing at his lips. "And why is that?" he inquired.
Yeonjun's eyes lowered, his resolve hardening, “Because," he began, voice measured but firm, "no alliance should be forced in such a time. It must be chosen freely, with patience, for the good of our kingdom."
The room fell silent, the weight of Crown Prince’s words hanging in the air like a challenge to the very fabric of their political machine. Beomgyu felt an odd tinge of admiration for the prince who dared to defy convention in the face of such men of power.
He couldn’t imagine the pressure the alpha must be facing at the moment— expected to mate and marry with someone who isn’t necessarily of his choice all whilst preparing to rule one of the most powerful kingdoms alive.
And yet he still speaks his mind. As much as he detests the man, he can admit that it is an admirable feat. Minister Daeho's laughter, sharp and calculated, though broke the silence like a crack of thunder.
"A noble sentiment," he remarked, his gaze sweeping across the room with a sinister gleam. "Yet alliances cannot wait for sentiment alone."
The tension escalated, palpable, as Daeho continued, "If the Crown Prince cannot oblige our timeline," he declared, voice ringing with authority, "then the royal family must offer something of equal value in return. Or choose to deal with the consequences of losing alliances."
The royal alpha’s face hardened, he glanced towards his father, seeking guidance or perhaps a sign of solidarity in this battle.
"And what do you propose?" King Hyunseok’s spoke, understanding the cue yet his expression unreadable as he regarded the minister with curiosity and caution.
Minister Daeho's smile widened, and a beat of silence passed. Something within the omega churned as he caught the way his eyes lingered at him, somehow his presence had not escaped him as one word echoed throughout the hall—
"Him," he stated bluntly, his finger pointing directly at the cupbearer.
Beomgyu's heart skipped a beat, a chill running down his spine as all eyes turned towards him. He stood frozen, caught in the crossfire of political maneuvering and personal vendettas, his breath caught in his throat.
Then he saw how his finger turned downwards, now pointing to the empty cup in front of him as a signal to come close. The omega felt his legs move before he did, as if his body was dedicated to serving those in power although his mind refused it.
And yet he walked over, the pitcher in hand.
The tension in the room became a heavy presence that seemed to constrict around Beomgyu as if he were caught in a vise. The weight of Minister Daeho's eyes bore down on him like a physical force with every step and despite years of conditioning to maintain composure, fear etched itself into every line of Beomgyu's body.
The same man who treated him so cruelly as a young boy, even hitting him in front of others now wanted him all to himself? It was unbelievable.
A ripple of muffled laughter echoed through the hall, a chorus of amusement from the alpha guests who found entertainment in the unfolding drama. The King's impassive expression betrayed nothing, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he observed the exchange with keen interest.
Beside him, Crown Prince Yeonjun remained statuesque, his face unamused and gaze hard and heavy on the beta in front of him. Beomgyu leaned over the table with the pitcher, trying to remain stable but quickly lost all ability to do so as the Minister grabbed him roughly by the jaw, forcing him closer.
The minister's smile turned into a smirk, a predator sensing weakness in its prey. "You see, Your Majesty," he began smoothly, "male omegas are a rarity, and this one is no exception.”
He inhaled deeply, “It would be a shame to see such a delicate creature go to waste in mere servitude. Especially when young, male omegas like this one" He gripped his jaw harder, “could serve in many other ways.”
The alpha lords exchanged knowing glances, voices raised in intrigue as they assessed the value of this unexpected bargaining chip.
Beomgyu's heart pounded in his chest, his breath coming in shallow gasps. The implication of such words struck nothing but fear within and he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that no amount of training could have prepared him for.
He felt himself panic ever so slightly in realization that the prince may accept this offer, considering their history. His eyes darted briefly to Yeonjun, seeking reassurance or perhaps a shred of empathy, completely unsure if he would even find it in the man who hates him.
And he felt his breath hitch and eyes widen completely as he saw within the prince a strong resolve.
"I refuse," Yeonjun scoffed harshly, a sense of disbelief in his tone as he leaned forward to assert his dominance, "That omega is under my protection. No one here has the right to dictate his fate besides myself."
Minister Daeho's smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of irritation. “And what is your plan for him then, Your Highness? Keep him as a pathetic servant?"
He challenged, his gaze narrowing as he tightened his grip on Beomgyu's chin, a gesture that bordered on possessive, "Surely, you do not intend to squander such a valuable asset? A compliant one , at that"
Beomgyu couldn’t help the whine that escaped him as the grip hardened, one of fear and indignation. He felt like a pawn in a game played by giants, his very existence reduced in the power struggle for dominance and control.
And not to mention the fact that the Crown Prince was blatantly lying, he was not his. He belongs to the service of his mother. A fact that they both knew, and the King knew and yet the King stayed silent, as if he too wanted to see how this would unfold.
Yeonjun's eyes blazed with an intensity at the sound, "That omega," he declared, his voice low and dangerous, "is not a commodity to be traded. He is a member of my household. Do you not see the crest he bears? His well being is my responsibility."
The room fell silent, the weight of the Crown Prince’s declaration hanging heavy in the air, his scent of cedarwood and cinnamon being released with a crackle of annoyance. As his demeanor darkened which would intimidate any man, but the Minister wasn’t a man, no, he was closer to that of a monster.
Minister Daeho's eyes bore into Yeonjun who refused to break eye contact, a silent challenge that spoke volumes of the power play unfolding before them all.
"If not for trade, then for what purpose?" he pressed, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife, "Does the Jewel of Joseon, perhaps, intend to keep him for the same reason as mine? To breed and fuck?"
The alpha’s jaw clenched, "Regardless of the purpose, he is not yours. He belongs to the House of Choi and that will not change unless he marries," he spat clearly, "which you and I both know isn’t possible due to his rank, and his pups would be bastards just like him. Therefore, I suggest you and everyone else thinking the same to find something else to bargain."
A murmur rose from the alpha lords, amused at Yeonjun's audacity. And Beomgyu swore he felt his heart sank, a bitter taste of betrayal lingering on his tongue as he realized the depths of not only his role in this world, but also at the political machinations at play.
Even if Minister Daeho decided to buy him and breed him, there would be no use in having children with an omega like him. An unworthy, bastard omega who won’t be free, who will forever be stuck in the chains of servitude.
“My associates weren’t lying when they said you were intelligent, Your Majesty. Therefore, I suggest once more that you find a mate this upcoming summer.” Minister Daeho proposes once more, “Or you give me this one.”
“Then, I shall see you next July, Minister.” The Crown Prince gritted, realizing either way the Minister wins.
The kingdom cannot risk losing someone such as Minister Daeho, someone who controls the strings of trade, and therefore this is the only option viable to him. Daeho's smirk turned into a smile once more, one that spoke of victory won yet not yet claimed.
"A fair bargain, Your Majesty," he remarked, letting go of the omega and raising his goblet in a mocking toast. "May our negotiations be fruitful."
Beomgyu stumbled backwards, his body shaking as he set down the wine pitcher. His heart beat fast in realization as to what just happened—the Crown Prince forfeited his right to a reasonable mating ceremony to save him from being bought out.
He looked to Yeonjun, who joined in on the toast with the other officials yet met his eyes with an inexplicable look. Yet in that fleeting moment, Beomgyu understood a sacrifice that had been made, but no reason as to why.
And the guilt began to swallow him whole, just what had he done? What would people think now of him, the servant who the prince defended? As the toast echoed through the hall, Beomgyu felt a cold chill settle over him, a premonition of darker days yet to come.
He knew then, with a sinking certainty, that the consequences of this night's events would ripple through their lives.
———
The once political atmosphere had faded, leaving behind a heavy silence.
The lingering scent of rich food and spiced wine mingled with the tension that had not yet dissipated. Beomgyu moved through the hall, his hands trembling as he collected the fine porcelain plates and metal goblets. Each item he touched seemed to carry the weight of the evening's events.
The memory of Minister Daeho's rough grip on his chin sent a shiver down his spine, a phantom touch that made him feel disgusting and vulnerable. The image of the minister's predatory smile was seared into his mind, a constant reminder of the danger he had escaped.
A danger he escaped due to the Crown Prince’s sacrifice.
The other servants worked alongside him, their faces drawn and weary. They too bore the weight of the evening's events, staring and whispering about the omega. Beomgyu's mind churned with questions, the most pressing of which was why.
Why had Crown Prince Yeonjun, who had shown him nothing but disdain, gone to such lengths to protect him? The Prince's defiance, his refusal to allow Beomgyu to be bartered away like a mere trinket, had been unexpected and baffling.
The memory of Yeonjun's declaration, " This omega is under my protection " echoed in his ears.
Beomgyu's heart ached with the weight of gratitude and guilt. He couldn't fathom why the prince would sacrifice his own desires, agreeing to a marriage seasons earlier than he wished, just to save him. He went against what one of the most powerful members of the counsel wanted, intimidated the other members of the counsel, all for his sake.
And now Beomgyu will suffer the consequences of this, people will treat him with more disdain for gaining a favor from a member of the Royal Family. It’s already started, his fellow servants who witnessed the showdown already began to whisper nasty things of him behind his back.
The realization made him feel sick, a deep, twisting nausea that gnawed at his insides.
Driven by a need for answers, Beomgyu's feet carried him out of the dining hall and through the winding corridors of the palace. The palace of the prince was nearby, his steps were fast, purposeful, as he approached the gates and soon the prince's chambers. The heavy wooden door loomed before him, and he hesitated, his hand poised to knock.
Before he could announce himself, the door swung open. Yeonjun stood in the doorway, already dressed in his nightclothes. The soft fabric clung to his muscular frame, highlighting the strength and authority that radiated from him.
His expression was unreadable, irritation flickering in his eyes as he took in the sight of the disheveled omega.
"Leave us," Yeonjun commanded, his voice low and steady. The guards and servants scattered, leaving the two alone in the dimly lit hallway.
Beomgyu's heart pounded in his chest, but he swallowed his fear, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke. "Excuse the intrusion, Your Majesty, but I must know why." he stated, his eyes searching the prince’s face for any sign of his true intentions, "Why did you choose to protect me?"
He saw how the alpha’s gaze hardened. "I don't owe you an explanation, just be thankful that it was done." he replied, his tone clipped and dismissive.
The better, smarter part of Beomgyu yelled at him to simply thank him and head out, but there was a need for answers, a need to understand the prince on a level he never sought before. It was a need of defiance that somehow only the male in front of him had brought out before.
"Allow me to understand this, Your Majesty," he insisted, his voice growing stronger. "You sacrificed your own needs in the defense of a man you hate. You don’t wish to be married next summer and now you have promised it, why go against the council—”
Yeonjun's eyes flashed with anger, and he took a step forward, his presence overwhelming. "And risk being compliant?" Like you? he shot back, his words laced with bitterness, “You know nothing, Beomgyu. You’d find it wise to leave, now.”
The part went unsaid, but the long haired male knew that’s what he meant. The omega’s irritation flared, letting out a whiff of the tanginess of his honeyed orange scent, and he met the Prince's challenge head-on.
"Do you think calling me compliant is an insult? Both you and the Minister seem to forget that it is my job to be so." he said softly, a reminder of the insult both alphas had hurled at him earlier that day.
He continued, “Do you know what people will think now? The Crown Prince defending a bastard omega like me? They’ve already begun their forsaken gossip.”
Beomgyu laughed, not humorously but sourly, “It would have been better for you to accept the deal, and let me go with the Minister—”
“You’d rather go with that vile man rather than ignore baseless claims of other lowlifes, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun interrupted him roughly.
The alpha was now unbearably close, the scent of cinnamon and cedarwood filling his nostrils, “You’d rather him touch you,” He took a step forward, “breed you?”
The alpha’s voice was low and livid, a growl rippling within as he spoke. “Tell me, Beomgyu, have you ever even felt the touch of man? Do you know what it’s like to be fucked ?”
Yeonjun’s pheromones intensified with each word making him weak in the knees, each filthy word sending a shiver down the omega’s spine the more he spoke. Beomgyu could only stare up with wide eyes, frail and breathing heavy.
“I doubt you do. And I’ll tell you now, no alpha would be gentle with a male omega such as yourself.” He warned, a tense silence settled between them, the air thick.
Beomgyu couldn’t speak, he felt overwhelmed by his scent and the turmoil within only made matters worse, the alpha laughed at the lack of response.
"You have a lot of nerve showing up here demanding things from your prince. Know your place.” He voice hushed to that of a whisper, but it felt like a shout in the omega’s ears, one that made his knees weak and stomach turn.
"I have a right to know why things happened the way they did," Beomgyu finally shot back, his voice filled with desperation. "Did you mean an ounce of what you said, that I belong to—"
Yeonjun's growl cut him off, his alpha pheromones flooding the air even more causing the omega to fold over. "No, I didn’t. You aren't important to me, you said it yourself, I hate you." he spat, his voice dripping with venom.
"But you are important to my mother. She would rather die than let you be sold like a whore, that's the only reason I did what I did—to protect her, not you."
Beomgyu tried standing straight yet staggered, the Prince's words and pheromones a double blow that left him reeling. He couldn't find the strength to respond this time, his body trembling with the effort to stay upright as the alpha stared down at him with an intensity unlike no other.
He could do nothing but stare right back, unsure of what to feel.
"Stop that at once!" A commanding voice rang out, sharp and clear, breaking the tense moment.
Queen Eunyoung stood at the end of the hall, her eyes fueling with anger. The Crown Prince immediately backed off at the sound, ending the release of his scent. The Queen rushed to Beomgyu's side, her concern evident on her face.
"Are you okay?" she asked frantically, her hands gentle as she checked him for any signs of harm. "Did that minister do anything to you? Hit you again?"
Beomgyu shook his head, his voice barely a whisper. "No, Your Majesty."
The queen turned to her husband and son, her fury uncontained. "Do you think it is humorous to use your alpha pheromones to overpower an omega? Never do that again. Not in front of me." She demanded, her voice shaking with emotion.
Yeonjun scoffed, a harsh sound that echoed in the hall. "And you care enough for that omega to scold your own son like that?"
"Of course I do." She shot back, her eyes flashing with righteous anger. "You have no idea who this omega is related to, Yeonjun. Your father and I have not forgotten his roots."
Beomgyu stood there, stunned and unsure of what those words meant, but knowing they held significant implications about his mother and her past, one that he had little to no knowledge about.
“Well I don’t care to know. Father did nothing to protect Beomgyu, so scold him instead of me.” The Crown Prince protested.
"Your Father has protected Beomgyu in ways you wouldn’t understand.” She retorted, snapping back at him.
“Regardless, were you so pitiful in that room that you couldn't find a way to protect both Beomgyu and your own demands?"
“Are you here to belittle me for protecting the omega you love like a son or to thank me?", the Crown Prince laughed in disbelief, holding his head in his hands,
"You should be happy about this, Mother. All you’ve ever wanted was to find me a mate and marry, and now I will at the earliest convenience for this entire goddamn Kingdom!”
“No, son, I want you to mate and marry at your own volition, find a suitable mate and love them in your own due time.” The Queen sighed, “You having to mate by next summer is your own fault. You chose that, not I.”
Yeonjun growled, frustrated, “I did so I could save your bastard maidservant, Mother. Do you not understand that Minister Daeho is a powerful man? There was no other choice— either sell him or do something I was bound to regardless.”
Queen Eunyoung stood there in silence, digesting the words of her son and thinking carefully, the silence threatening to swallow them whole.
“There are always other choices, Yeonjun. The fact you and your father weren’t alpha enough to find it, well, that is on both of you.” She stated lowly.
“Why are you even here?” The Crown Prince ignored, changing the topic and gesturing to the both of them.
"I’m here to hold you to your word, on behalf of your father. You lied to the council about your relationship to Beomgyu so now, you must face the consequences."
Yeonjun frowned, confusion evident in his eyes. "Face the consequences? What do you mean?"
"You said so yourself that this omega is under your command. Therefore, from here on out, Beomgyu is your personal servant."
“No way. I refuse— an omega, the servant of an alpha? Have you actually lost it this time?” Yeonjun's protest was immediate and fierce, "I only did what I did for the family, not for anything else."
Beomgyu felt his body go numb, the weight of his new reality pressing down on him. He knew he had no right to speak up or protest. Although she may be the Queen, her blood is more pure and more worthy than most. Her ancestors defended and guarded the very land of Korea, her father the most decorated military commander so far.
King Hyunseok wouldn’t be the mighty king he is without her by her side. And therefore, her word is law as well.
"A worthy king stays true to his word," Queen Eunyoung overpowered him, voice harsh and a final decree. "You better learn to do the same, or learn to keep your mouth shut. "
The alpha Prince glanced at Beomgyu, his expression dark and mocking. "So now you want to be quiet?" he taunted, stepping closer. "What happened to your boldness from earlier?"
The omega remained silent, his eyes downcast, feeling the weight of the prince's words like a physical blow. He couldn’t speak, not in front of the most powerful people in all of Korea. His word is worth nothing, in fact, he is worth nothing. And he doesn’t understand why there is so much commotion over him, yet what is done is done and he cannot say anything.
"Stop this, Yeonjun," the Queen commanded, her voice cutting through the tension, "Just because Beomgyu is a male omega does not make him any less capable as a servant."
Beomgyu felt a pang of hurt at the queen's words, but when he looked into her eyes, he saw hope and determination. She believed in him, and that belief gave him a shred of strength to hold onto as he faced his uncertain future.
Silence overcame the three of them, and the Queen spoke once again.
Her voice soft and understanding this time, “Yeonjun, my son,” she stepped towards him and cupped his cheek, “I am not angry at you. Do not misunderstand, I am beyond thankful you protected Beomgyu. But, I am upset that you have sacrificed your own happiness, you mustn't allow yourself to do that again.”
Yeonjun leaned into her touch, the anger and intensity in the room slowly dissipating. “I understand, Mother. I know. This is nothing but a small stepback, one that I can deal with.”
“I know, son. You will deal with it and become the best King that this dynasty has ever seen.” Her eyes shone with pride as she spoke of her aspirations for him.
Beomgyu stared at the interaction, the interaction of a mother who loves her son so much that she resorts to anger when she makes him unhappy; a mother who loves her son and lives vicariously through him, promising him everything she can give to him.
And a son who wants nothing more than to make her happy.
A familiar twinge of something sick within him twists and flares once more at the sight of a mother and son who love one another. But he chooses to not dwell.
“Beomgyu here is a dedicated servant, a loving person.” The Queen pulls away, and walks towards the weak omega, “He will serve you well, my son, if you will let him.”
The two males can’t seem to meet eyes after this, a feeling of shame hanging over the two. Beomgyu and Yeonjun have a past that weighs heavily on the both of them, a past filled with the passion of hatred and regret.
In many ways, they are the two different sides of the same coin. Each is tortured by the things they cannot control yet it does nothing but fuel their contempt for one another. But things are now different, although neither of them could say what. Something is different.
Yet neither of them know exactly what and it will gnaw at their heartstrings until discovered.
“I expect you to be up and ready to serve me by dawn tomorrow. And same for the day after tomorrow.” Yeonjun demanded, finally meeting his eyes, “Hell, every day from here on out. And just because you are an omega does not mean I won’t treat you as I do other male servants. Do you understand?”
The long haired male nodded, inhaling deeply and ignoring the raging, inexplicable feelings swirling within, “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“And your hair better be cut the next time I see you.”
The omega nodded bowed, and with that, the feelings swirling within turned into a familar one of uncertainty. The curse of being a nuisance had come back and bitten him in many ways, but he was sure this time, this bite would swallow him whole and leave him with nothing but the last shreds of his dignity.