Chapter Text
Blood.
It is the first thing Jeonghan sees as he steps into the grand ballroom – blood scattered everywhere across the marble floors, once reserved for waltzes and extravagant shows. The air is thick with ruin; pieces of shattered glass glint like fallen stars, flames creep hungrily from the garden’s edge, and the chandeliers flicker dimly, as if mourning the light they once illuminated.
Maybe it is only an illusion when the ground trembles beneath his feet or when the windows seem to shudder at the thunder’s roar. Lightning strikes through the sky, casting a fleeting glow upon the devastation and upon the lone figure standing amidst it.
Jeonghan exhales, unaware of the breath he had been holding this entire time. That silhouette, that soft brown hair; he would recognize it anywhere, even in his wildest dreams. Especially here, in the very hall where once their engagement had been celebrated – his husband.
“Joshua.”
The man turns, slowly, deliberately. His gaze meets Jeonghan’s, but it is hollow, devoid of the warmth that once sparkled in his eyes. There is weariness etched into every line of his face, a quiet resignation that chills Jeonghan more than the storm outside.
Joshua attempts a smile. It is brittle, a ghost of sincerity. “Jeonghan.” The name falls from his lips like a foreign word, stripped of affection, stripped of memory. He says it as though speaking the name of a stranger, is that how he sees him now?
Jeonghan approaches, shoulders taut with the weight of betrayal. His fingers tighten around the hilt of his sword. Jeonghan’s tired, he has been for a while now. All he had ever wanted was to return home in peace. But peace, it seems, was never part of the bargain – not since he married Joshua.
Joshua meets him halfway. His smile softens, barely. He takes Jeonghan’s vacant hand in his own, cradling them with a gentleness that feels almost cruel. Jeonghan’s body burns – not with passion, but with fury, grief, and the sting of betrayal.
“You’re bleeding,” Joshua murmurs, brushing his thumb over his bruised knuckles. His voice, though worn out, carries a familiar touch. He presses a kiss to Jeonghan’s hand – a gesture meant to comfort, but it only twists the knife deeper inside Jeonghan’s chest.
With a resounding clang, Jeonghan lets the sword fall. Its echo reverberates through the empty hall. They are alone, perhaps the entire estate has been abandoned. So why is Joshua still here? To deliver the final nail to his coffin?
“Why?” Jeonghan feels his voice shaking with emotions as he speaks, it’s barely above a whisper. Joshua hums, the sound sending vibrations down through Jeonghan’s hand that he’s holding close to his face. “Why are you doing this?”
Joshua cups his face with Jeonghan’s hand, leaning into the touch. “Your hand is cold,” he murmurs, yet he does not let go, instead only leaning closer. His own skin is warm – whether from the fire or a fever, Jeonghan cannot tell.
Jeonghan’s body has lost its fight already, he’s too tired, the state of the north has worsened and he’s not sure what he can do anymore to protect the people. He’s tired, from the truth he failed to see about Joshua’s family. Still, with the smallest bit of effort left in his body, he pulls his hand away. The motion is abrupt, almost harsh – almost nostalgic that it makes him laugh.
Joshua’s expression shifts, snapping him awake to reality. He looks much more sober, disheartened. There’s a frown creasing between his brows, Jeonghan knows this expression too well – it’s the look Joshua has given him all these years.
Joshua sighs, the sound laced with irritation and tiredness. “Isn’t it already obvious enough?” He tilts his head, a small smile of amusement playing on his lips, “what do you think, Jeonghan? And here I thought that you were smart.”
Jeonghan does not answer immediately. The question hangs in the air, heavy and bitter, like the scent of smoke curling through the estate. His gaze remains fixed on Joshua, searching for remnants of the man that once told him that he loved him, the man that Jeonghan only continued to hurt.
Joshua’s eyes have always been the most beautiful part of him, hazel eyes which shone like gold under the sun, something even the universe would be envious about. But Joshua’s eyes are unreadable now. They shimmer with something different, not exactly cruel. Not hatred, no – something far colder.
Resignation.
“You could have stopped it…” Jeonghan whispers, though he’s not sure just how much of it is true. “You should have, you–” he takes a deep breath when he feels his voice stutter, “was everything you did just an act?”
“You think I planned this?” Joshua asks, voice low, almost amused. Jeonghan chooses to remain silent, his hands form into a fist by his side, nails digging at his palm. “Of course you would think that way…” he scoffs, yet his voice sounds empty – sorrowful and slightly disappointed.
Jeonghan had known about Marquess Hong’s ambitions, to an extent anyway. He had thought that the idea of his marriage with Joshua would be fruitless, he had known that too, of course, but he had a responsibility – to make sure the Hong family wouldn’t try anything fishy.
He failed. With the price being his parent’s death, with the empire falling apart in front of his eyes, with the place he once called home now burning down in front of him.
Joshua leaned in once more, his palms pressing gently against Jeonghan’s chest. The elder did not resist. He allowed Joshua to feel the sound of his heartbeat – each thump growing louder, quicker, as if echoing the storm within.
“Jeonghan, I…” Joshua faltered, his voice trembling as he rested his forehead in the hollow of Jeonghan’s neck. Tears spilled quietly onto Jeonghan’s skin, and his breath, warm and uneven, sent a shiver down Jeonghan’s spine. “I tried so desperately to protect you, to love you. Why must you always be so impossibly stubborn?”
Jeonghan’s breath caught. He withdrew, placing his hands firmly on Joshua’s shoulders. The younger’s gaze fell to the floor, eyes glistening with unshed tears, his posture steeped in defeat. “Joshua… what are you saying?” Jeonghan's voice sounded close to a scoff, “protecting me? From what? When?”
Joshua wiped at his tears with trembling fingers, a hollow laugh escaping his lips – fragile, like the echo of an empty vessel. “Did you never wonder why I remained by your side, despite everything? Why did I refuse to even once consider divorce, even back then?”
Jeonghan vividly remembers the time he brought up divorce to Joshua, it was the first and the last time they ever talked about it – not exactly talked per say. It could also be considered the only time they ever fought.
Jeonghan raised his gaze from the scattered documents before him upon hearing a knock at the door of his study.
A frown creased his brow as he glanced toward the pendulum clock affixed to the wall on his right; 10:47, it read. Who would disturb him so late? With deliberate movements, he rose from his chair and proceeded to the door, opening it with measured restraint.
The last person Jeonghan would have expected coming up to him this late was Joshua.
For several long moments, Jeonghan regarded the younger man, the door remaining only partially ajar, denying full entry. Joshua met his look unflinchingly, though still briefly timid, inclining his head slightly to glance beyond Jeonghan before returning his gaze, silently awaiting permission to enter.
“What do you want?” Jeonghan inquired, his tone cool yet edged with weariness. Though Joshua no longer flinched as he once did at such firmness, the lingering look of hurt in Joshua’s eyes flashed constantly, something he should be used to by now.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Joshua replied softly, casting his eyes downward as he nervously twisted his fingers. “It is... somewhat important,” he admitted hesitantly. “I hope I’m not disturbing you from your work right now.”
Jeonghan sighed, “it’s fine,” he replied, relenting as he fully opened the door, “come on.” They crossed the threshold, and Jeonghan leaned casually against the edge of his desk, waiting as Joshua hesitated before taking a seat. Ordinarily, if it were to be someone else – someone important – Jeonghan would have asked for the maids to prepare something but he knows there’s no point in stretching it out. “Speak.”
Joshua still avoided his gaze, and Jeonghan inwardly scoffed, for a minute he couldn’t believe that he almost thought that his timid husband was finally growing to not be a coward, well he guessed wrong. “Will you tell me or would we have to stay like this the entire night?”
The younger man’s hands clasped tightly, lips pressed in a nervous habit. ““I know you told me to not pry in your business, and I really didn’t wish to bring it up but it’s just…” he murmured, “there’s something that I want from you, can you please do that?”
“That depends,” Jeonghan shrugged with indifference. “What is it about?”
A deep breath, “it concerns Hyungwon.”
Jeonghan’s eyes sharpened at the name, his posture straightening as he glared at Joshua, “What of Hyungwon?”
“It’s…” Joshua paused, still refusing to meet his eyes, “could you please refrain from bringing him over to our estate? I have no objections with you pursuing him, having a relationship with him or anyone else that you’d like but I personally don’t find myself comfortable being in his presence, it’s–”
“It’s my estate in case you’re forgetting,” Jeonghan asserted coldly. Joshua’s hesitation deepened, his frame seeming to contract at the words. “And it’s my choice on who I wish to bring home or not, you don’t even interact with him so why should his presence bother you?” He smirked, scoffing, “are you perhaps jealous?”
Joshua finally turned to look at him, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I am not!” He protested back immediately, voice higher than usual. “I am not jealous, I simply don’t feel comfortable in his presence, that’s why I’m requesting you to–”
“You wish for me to believe that?” Jeonghan laughed, shaking his head, “most people would be jealous about their husbands bringing in someone else to their home. It’s already bad enough that I had to be married to someone I don’t love and now you’re even restricting my movements?”
“That’s not what I wish for– I just want you to stop bringing Hyungwon here.”
Jeonghan sighed deeply, pushing himself from the desk with measured resolve. He paced slowly toward the door, observing Joshua rise as well. “If you are this disturbed by it,” he intoned, “perhaps you ought to consider divorce and return back to your own home.”
Jeonghan held onto the door’s handle, only seconds away from opening it and going back to his room. He doesn’t find himself having enough energy to continue his work, not after this conversation.
“You… you don’t mean that, do you?”
Jeonghan closed his eyes briefly in annoyance, pushing his hair back as he nodded, “I do mean it. It would be better if you return back to Ezra, I’ll ask Wonwoo to prepare the arrangements, you’re uncomfortable here, aren’t you? So, shouldn’t this–”
Jeonghan’s cut off when he feels a tug at the hem of his sleeves, he turns around, finding Joshua staring at the ground while holding him. “...Joshua?”
“No… no, you don’t mean that, right?” Joshua whispered, voice hurried that Jeonghan could barely make anything out of it. “I don’t want to, I don’t want to go back.” He finally looked up at Jeonghan, his eyes shaking, “I won’t go back to Ezra.”
“Don’t be stubborn, Joshua.” Jeonghan tried to pry Joshua's hands off of him but his grip was too strong, “just return back to Ezra, I’ll send you off without any conditions too. We don’t like each other, if you can’t handle me having a partner then you should consider divorce.”
Joshua suddenly dropped to his knees, hands clinging to Jeonghan, hugging his legs tightly as possible. His body didn't stop trembling, head down as he held onto him.
“No… No, I can’t go back, please don’t send me back, Jeonghan. I– I was wrong, I can’t go back.”
“What the hell are you doing…”
Joshua didn’t listen, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want to go back. I was wrong– I–” His voice hitched. Jeonghan’s eyes widened when he realized that Joshua was crying. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault, please don’t send me back, I wouldn’t– I won’t say anything… please.”
“Joshua?” The other doesn’t pay any mind to him, still mumbling to himself, “Joshua, what are you–”
“Please,” Joshua’s voice cracks as he whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t say anything about Hyungwon anymore, I’ll– I’ll apologize to him too, please.” He hiccups, “please don’t send me back, I wouldn’t say anything again so please forgive me, I– I’ll take any punishment, just please–”
“Joshua!”
Jeonghan gets down and grabs at his shoulders, pulling him to look up. The younger flinches when their eyes meet, looking away immediately as tears don’t stop flowing from his eyes. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry,” he hiccups, letting go of his hold from Jeonghan to wipe at his own tears, “please don’t send me back…”
“Joshua, will you calm down?” The younger just shakes his head, still mumbling apologies to himself, “I won’t send you away, Joshua, so can you calm down? I was just– I just got annoyed, I won’t send you back.”
Jeonghan doesn’t know what happened for Joshua to have such a violent reaction but the other starts to calm down, shoulders still quivering and nose sniffling, but he was quieter again. “I won’t send you back, so just– don’t cry, will you?”
His own hand comes up to cradle Joshua’s face and wipe at his tears, Jeonghan doesn’t know what he’s doing or why he’s doing this. He couldn’t care less about Joshua but he’s not that cruel either, he’s not cruel enough to just let the other cry like this.
Once he’s sure that Joshua has come back to his senses again, he lets him go with a tired sigh. “Seriously,” Jeonghan pushes back his hair as he stands up, “you’re alright now, aren’t you?”
Joshua stilled again for a second before he nodded, tentatively, “yes…” then a little more quietly, he added, “I’m sorry.”
“Ha… you don’t have to apologize for everything.” Jeonghan mumbled, more to himself rather than Joshua, he knew the other would still continue to do that. He turned towards the door again, ready to leave, “It’s annoying.”
“You… you won’t send me back to Ezra, right?”
Jeonghan held on to the handle tightly, he would love to do that but he knows he can’t. He takes a deep breath, “no,” he replies back after a second, “I won’t.” He looks over his shoulder for a bit before opening the door, “I’ll call for Seungkwan to take you to your room, let’s not talk about this again.”
True to his word, they never had that conversation again.
“You knew,” Jeonghan whispered, grasping for an argument, for anything to anchor him. Isn’t that why Joshua would put up such an act? To feed back information to his parents? Yet his voice betrayed him, thin and frail. His grip tightened on Joshua’s shoulders, eliciting a hiss of pain.
“Of course I knew!” Joshua cried, lifting his gaze at last. Years of suppressed anger surged through his eyes. “I tried to tell you, Jeonghan. But you never listened. You never saw me. Your world revolved around Hyungwon and when he left, you buried yourself in practice.”
Jeonghan winced, his grip loosening. “I…”
“Please,” Joshua whispered, eyes closed as he steadied his breath. “I love you, Jeonghan. Do you think I was blind to my family’s betrayal? That I didn’t know they orchestrated this marriage to use me as their pawn?”
“Do you remember our wedding night?”
Jeonghan stood still, drawing his hands back. The memory was distant, blurred, not entirely lost though. Ten years of marriage, and only one night of intimacy – uncomfortable, devoid of warmth and only a formality. “Does it matter?” he deflected, desperate to steer the conversation back to the main issue.
Joshua sighed and stepped away. With deliberate grace, he reached for the buttons of his nightdress, undoing them hastily. In a swift motion, the fabric slipped from his shoulders. Jeonghan’s face flushed crimson, shielding his eyes with his hands.
“You! What are you doing–”
But his voice faltered, his body trembling as his gaze fell upon Joshua’s back. Scars marred the skin – some faded, others fresh and cruel. They didn’t look like they came from a battle, but of something far worse, far more cruel.
Tentatively, Jeonghan stepped forward, his hand hovering near the wounds. Joshua stiffened at his proximity, and Jeonghan’s heart clenched with guilt and dread. “Can I…” he whispered, unable to finish the question. Joshua only suppressed his lips, nodding in response.
Jeonghan’s fingers brushed the scars, reverent and light. Some had healed with time, leaving behind pale traces. But the others looked recent – angry lines stretching from shoulder to spine. Though the skin had closed, the memory had not.
“These weren’t here before…” Joshua quivered under his gaze, his hand gripping his forearm so tightly it could leave marks. “You said it was an accident,” Jeonghan murmured, voice cracking. “I didn’t know… I didn’t know it was this bad, just– how?”
Joshua pulls away from his touch, releasing a breath and immediately pulling his shirt up to hide himself. “It’s been a while…” he pauses, “don’t make me say it,” his eyes are closed but tears form again on his eyelids, “please.”
Jeonghan wanted to protest, to demand answers, but all he could do was nod, weakly. “I… I’m sorry, Joshua. I—”
“Don’t.” Joshua grits out, voice firm. “Don’t say it unless you really mean it. I don’t need anyone’s pity,” he takes a deep breath – finally opening his eyes. There was a quiet strength in his gaze, a courage Jeonghan had never seen before. “You needed a reason for why I stayed, there it is, you have your reason.”
Joshua stepped forward, cupping Jeonghan’s face in his hands, as if to remind him gently, painfully that love, even when bruised, is always still there, that it doesn’t really die but it does rot. “Jeonghan, I love you so much, really, a little too much even.”
His hands snake down from Jeonghan’s face to the back of his neck, “Jeonghan, I…” Joshua pauses, his thumb rubbing at Jeonghan’s adam apple, who stands frozen. “I would die for you Jeonghan, I really would but I…”
The grip on his neck suddenly tightens, on instinct – Jeonghan’s hands fly to Joshua’s wrists, hoping to push them away but the hold Joshua has on him remains strong, rendering him unable to breath. Has Joshua always been this strong or has Jeonghan just fallen weak?
“I never asked anything from you, all I ever wanted was for you to love me back but look where it got us, right?” He laughs a little while Jeonghan gasps, feeling nails dig at his neck. He tries to kick his legs but it’s to no avail. “Even when Hyungwon tried to make a move on me, I stayed quiet because you loved him.”
“Wha–” Jeonghan breathes out, feeling his body go slack under Joshua’s hands, “what are you…” he tries to crook out, but it’s barely above a mumble. He can’t find himself to have enough power to continue speaking.
Joshua ignores him entirely, “Jeonghan,” Joshua’s voice is too sickeningly sweet, it makes Jeonghan’s stomach lurch in an uncomfortable feeling. His mind flashes back to the first time they met, 25 years ago when Joshua was only 6. That naïve child, how did he turn out to become like this?
“For 30 years, all I’ve been doing is trying to survive,” Jeonghan’s vision blurs but he can still make out of the tears that are on Joshua’s eyelids, there’s still a smile on his face despite the way a stray tear slowly creases his face. “I can’t die just like this Jeonghan, not when I tried so hard to survive.”
Jeonghan groans, his finger nails digging on Joshua’s wrists but the younger remains unaffected. “They say beggars can’t be choosers, I guess it’s right after all.” There’s the sound of Joshua’s light laughter but it sounds distant, ringing far away in his mind.
“Jeonghan, would you die for me too?”
Jeonghan gasps, a sharp, pulsing pain stabbing through his chest. Joshua releases him, pushing away as he watches Jeonghan falter and collapse to his knees. Jeonghan’s eyes fixate on the light shadow behind him and then the dagger buried deep in his heart, wondering if this is truly how it ends.
“I don’t have a choice…” Joshua’s voice is fragile, like cracking glass, breaking with every word. Jeonghan looks up one last time, meeting Joshua’s guilt heavy eyes. His lips part slowly, sending a silent farewell, “I’m sorry.”
Darkness welcomes itself into Jeonghan’s vision as he crumples to the ground. He wonders if things might have been different – if he hadn’t treated Joshua so coldly, if those he loved would still be alive had he only been less stubborn, more perceptive.
If only he had known what was happening behind his back – would he have lived long enough to avoid this tragic fate?