The King's Garden
The morning sun filtered through the palace trees, casting long golden shadows across the King’s private garden. Dressed in a simple robe of deep blue, King Dong Man stood with quiet dignity beside a stone bench, pretending to study the koi in the pond—when in truth, he was waiting. Over the years, this has become the highlight of his day. Waiting for Haesu and Gyeongho to entertain him with their stories. They have grown into strong young men and Dong Man couldn't be more proud of the two.
He didn’t wait long.
“Your Majesty!” came the bright, familiar voice. “We’ve brought the good pears today!”
Haesu’s grin beamed ahead of his arrival. He and Gyeongho walked up the path—Haesu with a basket in each arm and a wildflower tucked behind his ear, Gyeongho trailing behind, already sighing.
King Dong Man raised an amused brow. “That flower in your hair—is that fashion now, Haesu?”
“Oh, this?” Haesu plucked it out and held it out proudly. “I picked it for you! It looked lonely, and I figured you might be too.”
The king blinked, caught off guard.
Gyeongho rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. “He also gave one to a duck on the way here.”
“The duck quacked at me, Gyeongho. That’s basically a cry for help.”
The king chuckled and took the flower gently. “Then I’m honored. Thank you.”
Haesu gave him a wink. “Now you and the duck both have someone looking after you.”
As they settled under the tree, Haesu pulled out the fruit and milk, chatting away about a squirrel they’d seen wrestling a walnut and how he’d nearly tripped chasing it. Gyeongho looked like he was praying for strength. Haesu: ("...and then the goat literally kicked old Man Byeon right into the pigpen. I nearly died laughing—")
Gyeongho, smirking: “He forgot to mention why the goat kicked him. It might have something to do with Haesu sneaking into Areum’s yard to pick flowers like a lovesick poet.”
Haesu’s voice hits a pitch only bats can hear. “YA! That is a lie from the depths of your dark soul!”
Gyeongho bows mockingly to the king. “Your Majesty, he composed a whole haiku. Something about her eyes and rice cakes.”
Dong Man watched them both—Haesu’s glowing energy, Gyeongho’s quiet protectiveness—and his chest ached with pride and pain. He chuckled at Gyeongho’s quips.
“You’ve been busy today,” the king said lightly.
“Always!” Haesu answered. “Though this one,” he nudged Gyeongho, “told me he’d reveal my most shameful secret to you if I didn’t carry the heavier basket.”
“Ah,” Dong Man leaned forward, intrigued. “And what secret is that?”
Gyeongho folded his arms. “He’s got a crush on Areum.”
“GYEO—”
“It’s true,” Gyeongho smirked. “He composed a song about her hair. It rhymed.”
The king stifled a laugh as Haesu buried his red face in his hands. “I will never forgive you.”
“You already did. You picked me flowers.”
“For the king! Not you!”
“I’m telling Areum you said she smells like spring dumplings.”
“YOU SWORE YOU WOULDN’T!”
“Boys,” King Dong Man interjected, eyes sparkling. “You argue like brothers.”
They both paused. Looked at each other. Shrugged.
“Yeah,” Haesu said quietly, smiling. “We are.”
Dong Man turned his gaze back to the flower in his hand. That single bloom felt heavier than a crown.
"My son is growing well… even without knowing who he is." Dong Man thought to himself. Taeha has brought them up well. Gyeongho noticed the look on Dong Man's face but didn't say a word. To him, Haesu will always be his brother, no matter his bloodline.