ich liebe dich (among other things)

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/46442506.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: 전지적 독자 시점 - 싱숑 | Omniscient Reader - Sing-Shong
Relationship: Kim Dokja/Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja & Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja &
Kim Dokja's Company, Kim Dokja & Everyone
Character: Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk, Han Sooyoung, Biyoo (Omniscient
Reader), Yoo Sangah, Demon-like Judge of Fire | Uriel, Abyssal Black
Flame Dragon, Kyrgios Rodgraim, Kim Namwoon, Bihyung (Omniscient
Reader), Lee Jihye (Omniscient Reader), Prisoner of the Golden
Headband | Sun Wukong, Anna Croft (Omniscient Reader), Yoo Mia
Additional Tags: Slow Burn, mostly just them being dumb, misunderstandings but only
for comedic purposes dw, lots of other characters make an appearance
but thats all so i didnt tag them, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate
Universe, kdj is a librarian, yjh is the king ofc, Crack Taken Seriously
Language: English
Series: Part 1 of ild(aot) main and side works
Stats: Published: 2023-04-12 Updated: 2023-05-24 Words: 12,378 Chapters:
4/?

ich liebe dich (among other things)

by AmoreIocus

Summary

Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his collar, shoving him against the wall.
“Give me one reason I shouldn’t send you straight to jail.”
Like a fool, Kim Dokja opened his mouth. He did the only thing he could think to do:
“Wie gehts? Ich spreche kein English, um, es tut mir leid-“
“Don’t pretend you don’t speak English.”
Kim Dokja spat out whatever words he remembered Yoo Sangah practising. Yoo
Joonghyuk did not look impressed.
“Um, ich liebe dich…?” Kim Dokja offered, unsure of anything he had just said.
The hand at his collar froze. Slowly, he was put back down.

or

kdj unknowingly confesses his love to yjh. add that with several more chance encounters
and ten times as many misunderstandings, and you get whatever this fic is
 Chapter 1
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Kim Dokja, you can’t offer to put the books away just so you can read them and slack off,” Yoo
Sangah reprimanded gently, pulling the book from his hands and closing it.

“Why not? It’s not like we get many customers,” He said as he took the book back, flicking
through to where he had been reading.

Yoo Sangah sighed. Before she could say anything else, however, there was a thud from upstairs.
Something – someone – came tumbling down the stairs. It was Kim Namwoon, who looked like
he’d just been victim to blast mining.

He shook himself off, ash falling from his hair. Wiping the char from his face, he glared at
whoever was at the top of the stairs.

“You bastard! You were told not to point it at me! I’m not some stupid practice doll, so-“

Another blast of magic went flying towards him. He leapt out of the way, barrelling into a shelf.

“Oops. What can I say? It was an accident.” Han Sooyoung smirked.

He shook the books off, not caring about the damage being done. Before he could retaliate,
however, Yoo Sangah stepped between them.

“Han Sooyoung, you should apologise.” She spoke kindly but forcefully, leaving no room for
negotiation.

Almost immediately, Han Sooyoung switched to her sickly sweet, ‘just kidding’ voice.

“I was simply trying to help him. It’s not my fault he can’t learn from practical lessons. Maybe we
should get him to learn by the book instead.”

Kim Namwoon, despite being in a library, shuddered at the thought of having to read.

Han Sooyoung smirked, “Ah, right, I forgot you’re practically illiterate-“

Despite it being true, he scowled. He balled his fists at her, opening his mouth to no doubt curse
her further.

“Goodness me, you’re both such awful students.” Their teacher, who was supposed to be
responsible for them, appeared. A black-haired boy of fifteen, both younger and somehow less
mature than the two of them.

He called himself ‘Abyssal Black Flame Dragon’, though nobody actually bothered to call him
that. He was mostly referred to as ‘teach’ by his two students and ‘annoying wizard bastard’ by
anyone else (Kim Dokja).

From his messy hair and drowsy eyes, it was clear he had been sleeping until a moment ago.

“It seems they learnt their behaviour from their teacher,” Kim Dokja chimed in. He was watching
everything from between shelves on the other side of the store. He had determined he was far
enough away to be safe before he spoke.

He was incorrect. With a snap of the fifteen-year-old’s fingers, he began to float. Despite trying to
grip the shelves and hold himself down, he remained in the air. With a smirk, the boy sent him
crashing to the floor.

“Let’s resume class. No need for useless, unnecessary interruptions.” He kept his eyes fixed on
Kim Dokja as he said that, before turning around with excessive flair and disappearing.

Han Sooyoung followed him, then Kim Namwoon, who left a small trail of ashes behind as he
went.

“Are you alright?” Yoo Sangah asked him with concern, offering her hand.

He took it gratefully, dusting himself off.

“I’ll put the books away,” He said, in reference to the ones knocked over by Kim Namwoon.

“Ah, thank you.” She gave a nod, then walked behind the counter, returning to her usual position
of waiting for visitors.

When Kim Dokja was done, he glanced at her, hoping she wouldn’t notice if he slipped away to
read. He let out a sound of betrayal when he saw her.

“I thought we weren’t allowed to read on the job?” Kim Dokja said, indignant.

She looked up at him and smiled, “I get a free pass, since my books are intellectual.”

He snorted, “Just because they’re in a different language, doesn’t make them ‘intellectual’. They’re
fiction nonetheless.”

“Oh, really?” She raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure you aren’t just jealous? Perhaps you should
learn a new language instead of complaining.”

“No need.” Kim Dokja crossed his arms. “You’ve taught me so many phrases I’m practically
fluent. I just don’t read them out of choice.”

Yoo Sangah smiled gently, though her eyes showed a hint of amusement. “Is that so? Perhaps I
should become a teacher.”

“You’d probably be pretty good. Better than those fools upstairs, anyway.” He pointed his finger to
the roof with a chuckle. As though to prove him right, a loud thud could be heard.

Yoo Sangah sighed. “It’ll be a miracle if they don’t destroy the place.”

Kim Dokja nodded in exaggerated agreement. “Who knows why Kyrgios lets them stay.”

Yoo Sangah, ever nice, sounded like she wanted to come to the defence of the idiots who were
destroying the top floor, but faltered at the first word. As clever as she was, even she couldn’t find
a reason they were still allowed up there.

Seeing her close her mouth and shrug, Kim Dokja laughed. He was interrupted by the door,
however, which swung open. The bell rang gently, announcing the arrival of a visitor.
A hooded figure. Kim Dokja and Yoo Sangah exchanged glances. This wasn’t the first time
someone had tried to sell them something shady. Kyrgios had never told them not to accept – if
anything, he actively encouraged buying them, since they were often extremely cheap, their owners
wishing to be rid of them as fast as possible.

The figure made their way to the counter, where Yoo Sangah was waiting. Kim Dokja returned to
between the shelves, watching as they handed over a small, dusty, bound book. She glanced at it
momentarily, then exchanged a few words with the seller.

After they left, Kim Dokja made his way back over to her.

“You bought it?”

“It was dirt cheap, only a few copper coins, and seems interesting.”

Kim Dokja shrugged, “Fair enough. Not like it’s our money.”

Yoo Sangah tried to pry the book open with her nails. It remained clamped shut. She sighed.

“It probably has a spell on it. Do you think you could get Han Sooyoung to open it? I want to be
able to read it through today, in case it’s not worth the price and we have to go chase that guy
down.”

Kim Dokja nodded, picking the book up. It was surprisingly heavy for something so thin. He
headed up the stairs, guessing class was over from the silence.

When he opened the office door, he was greeted by a very messy room, empty of nothing but the
one thing he needed – Han Sooyoung. He made his way to her desk, though already fairly certain
he knew what she’d done.

There, almost hidden by all the other paper on her desk, was a small note in her handwriting. He
picked it up. On it was a riddle. Whenever she sensed she was about to be needed for something,
she liked to disappear, leaving only a riddle to her location.

[The apples on the lowest branches are oft the first to go

So I climb to where even the most courageous birds struggle to reach
If you find me, what will you ask?
You’d better not give me an apple.]

He sighed. Han Sooyoung, he thought to himself, should stick to writing little kid’s books and not
poetry.

He headed out to the street, aiming straight for the town centre. He glanced around the busy streets,
vendors calling out to passersby, servants and workers darting around on errands. But he knew the
one he was looking for would not be among them. Instead, he glanced up, seeing a familiar figure
on the roof of the trading guild, its height second only to the palace.

With a sigh, he made his way to the back, where no-one went, and began to climb.

“I knew I’d find you here,” He said between breaths. Han Sooyoung smirked.

“Like my riddle?”
“Not at all. And what’s with comparing apples to tasks? They’re nothing similar. Weren’t you the
one who told me metaphors have to match the situation?”

“Only in stories. Poetry is all about breaking conventions. Besides, how else was I going to
mention being somewhere high?”

“I could’ve guessed that without a poem. You always like looking down on people. Though I
thought calling me a courageous bird was unusually nice.”

“It was referring to the police. Even they wouldn’t bother attempting to get me down from here.
Nice try though.”

Han Sooyoung smirked at Kim Dokja’s exaggeratedly offended expression. With a dismissing roll
of his eyes, he pulled the book out his bag, “Yoo Sangah wants you to remove the spells off here.”

“Don’t you remember the last line? No apples.”

“Not even from Yoo Sangah?”

Han Sooyoung hesitated, then grabbed the book, “Fine. Then, see you-“

“Wait! Don’t make me climb all this way just to leave me. Surely even you aren’t that rude.”

“You have wings, don’t you? Just use them.”

With that, she teleported away, leaving Kim Dokja alone. He sighed. If I could use them, I never
would’ve bothered to climb all this way.

Yoo Sangah handed Kim Dokja his pay before he left. He took it from her with a smile, but sighed
inwardly at how light it was. He was paid extremely well considering what he did, which was
almost nothing, but it still wasn’t quite enough.

Had it just been him, there would’ve been few problems. But most of the money he spent was on
Biyoo, paying for someone to look after her while he was working or buying her whatever a three-
year-old might need. The rest went to his mother, who stayed out in the countryside.

As he contemplated a new budget for the week, his endless sighs looking like smoke in the cold
air, he found himself already where he needed to be.

No sooner had he knocked twice when the door swung open. Biyoo’s smiling face greeted him as
she jumped into his arms. Despite being tired, he twirled her around, then placed her on his
shoulders.

Bihyung cleared his throat. He was a reliable tutor and babysitter, but to say he cost a lot was an
understatement. Despite that, there was no-one else he could turn to, with the exception of Han
Sooyoung, who he didn’t trust to be responsible for a child and Yoo Sangah, who he didn’t want to
bother.

“My rates will be increasing. It’ll be a fifth higher than before, starting today.”

“What?! You never told me-“

“So what?”

Bihyung waved his words away. He beckoned for the money.

Kim Dokja bit his lip. After a pause, he handed over most of the money he had earnt. It was
supposed to last them the rest of the week, preferably longer.

He had hoped he wouldn’t need any more work, but it seemed Kim Dokja would have to return to
his previous ‘profession’.

Stupid old man… How old even is he? Kim Dokja couldn’t actually tell. He was either in his mid
thirties and had lived a hard life, or in his sixties and had lived lavishly. Although he was balding,
he had almost no wrinkles. And since he was always frowning, he could be a labourer worn down
by life or, equally, a Baron consistently let down by his subordinates.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he concentrated on Biyoo, who had decided to walk beside him
instead of being carried. She showed him her drawing, nothing more than crayon stick figures of
the two of them and Lee Sookyung. Even so, he couldn’t wait to proudly display it on the wall.

He did so the moment they got home. Biyoo smiled as he stuck it on.

“You have to put it higher, daddy. So that people see it from everywhere in the house.”

“Of course. We wouldn’t want any of the furniture blocking the view, would we?”

Biyoo nodded, “Exactly!”

“There we are.” He stuck the picture up with a flourish. “Now, it’s time for bed.”

The four words any child dreaded most.

“Wait, wait!” Biyoo pleaded, as though she were begging for her life. “You haven’t read me a
story yet.”

“Ah, of course. What would you like? The one on myths?”

Biyoo shook her head. “I already know all about Secretive Plotter and The Oldest Dream. And I
don’t want to read the fairytale one either. I want a new story!”

Kim Dokja scanned the shelves. There were quite a few books, most of them ‘borrowed’ from the
library. But Biyoo had already been read them all.

Kim Dokja’s eyes fell on a small, slightly worn-out book. It looked self made, and when he pulled
it out, he held it delicately. He flipped through it, memories washing over him.

Han Sooyoung had made that book for him, a collection of stories he’d been gifted for his birthday,
when he was younger.

Biyoo also looked at it with wonder.

“I haven’t seen that one before! Read it to me!”

Kim Dokja snapped out of his trance. “What do you say first?”
“Pretty please!”

He smiled. “Alright.”

Kim Dokja was not yet asleep, though the moon was high in the sky. He was flicking through the
pages of the book, reading it by moonlight, eyes half-closed in contemplation.

It was quite battered. When he was younger, since it was small enough, he had put it in his pocket,
a good luck charm of sorts. He laughed slightly as he thought about it. Perhaps he should start
doing that again; his luck had been pretty rubbish recently.

Kim Dokja was alone this time, the only one manning the counter. He had been thinking over his
monetary issues, leaving his mood low, but a sense of twisted relief filled him when he saw a man
enter.

His clothes, a wool undercoat and satin cloak, both black, hung loose over his broad shoulders, yet
tight enough to show off his build – that of someone who had never gone hungry and never
worked. Not unfit, but the opposite; Kim Dokja knew he would stand no chance if it came to a
fight. But it didn’t matter.

Although his clothes were no different to a commoner’s, he held himself tall, with the confidence
of a man who had never been told no. In other words, he walked like a spoilt prick, something Kim
Dokja had learned to look for. After all, who better to take money from than those who won’t
notice it missing?

Kim Dokja withheld his grin. Although it was a little shameful to scam someone, he was sure this
man would never know – and what they don’t know can’t hurt them.

“How can I help you?”

The man looked around, his gaze sweeping over the dusty shelves and piles of books. He grimaced
slightly. Kim Dokja tried to resist the urge to punch him.

“I require a children’s book.”

“Alright, what age?”

“Eleven.”

Kim Dokja frowned a little. They didn’t have many books for kids around that age.

But he needed something. Something no-one would notice missing. He didn’t need to be in debt on
top of everything else.

That book of hers isn’t all that lucky after all.

An idea struck him. One he didn’t particularly like, but it seemed he had little option.

“Let me go check the back.” He said.

When he was out of sight, he pulled the book from his pocket. He traced over the handwritten
words with his fingers. Was there really no other option?
He took a deep breath in and returned to the counter.

“…Eighty silver coins.”

Kim Dokja didn’t want to resort to this. The book meant a lot to him, priceless beyond anything
this foolish noble’s son could give him.

But Kim Dokja was desperate. The book saved him once, so, he reasoned, it could surely save him
a second time.

And in the hands of someone like this, it would surely be protected. Only gone for a while, a few
weeks at most, he told himself. Anything to stop the guilt that was blocking his throat and fraying
the edges of his words.

The man, oblivious to Kim Dokja’s inner turmoil, frowned. “Is it really so expensive?”

“This book is the only one of its kind. Handwritten, and accompanied by illustrations. Eighty silver
coins is a low price for a book as incredible as this.”

“I don’t wish to buy the book, merely borrow it. This is just a library, not a bookstore, isn’t it?”

“Some books require a downpayment. The money will be returned once you bring the book back.”

He stuck to sentences that were always true, but never properly answered the question, a trick he’d
learnt to keep himself out of jail. Kim Dokja wasn’t sure how, but he could manage to scrape
together eighty silver by the time the book was returned. He just needed some money for now, that
was all.

“I don’t have eighty silver coins on me at the moment. The most I can give is sixty.”

He talks like sixty is nothing.

Kim Dokja cleared his throat, focusing back on the deal at hand.

“Sixty silver coins… Alright. You seem to be a well-kept gentleman, so I trust the book will be
returned in good condition. What’s your name?”

He threw a compliment in there to get the man to let his guard down, but he seemed hesitant to
respond.

“I need to write down who has taken a book. So, your name?”

Make one up if you don’t want me to know. Just hurry up and give me the money.

“Joonghyuk,” The man paused, “Yoo Joonghyuk.”

“A very nice name. Were you named after the King?” Kim Dokja asked with a chuckle, “Not
uncommon. I imagine it must get irritating meeting so many with the same name as you.”

“I suppose,” The man said, looking a little uncomfortable.

“Well, here’s the book. Since there is a deposit, you can take your time returning it.” The longer
the better. “Have a nice day.”

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded and left.

Wow, not even a thank you? Jerk.

He picked up the pouch of coins. The man had handed over his money, purse included. Could he
make it more obvious he had money to throw away?

Kim Dokja fiddled with the coins, smooth to the touch. He wouldn’t be wasting these.

“Thank you so much for looking after her,” Kim Dokja said, his voice sounding genuinely
grateful. Internally, however, he was cursing the man out. What kind of babysitter costs six silver
coins per hour?

But the man waved his hand dismissively, “She was well-behaved and all that. Just hurry and take
her.”

Though the man was rough with his words, there was no denying he was good at what he was paid
for. Both looking after Biyoo and teaching her, he acted somewhat like an uncle to her.

Biyoo rushed over to Kim Dokja, who scooped her up in his arms. Although he was tired, as he
often found himself to be at the end of the long, permanent winter days this country had, he found
the weight on his shoulders was lifted when she greeted him.

As they walked home, her small, three-year-old hand in his, they talked of the days they’d had. The
both of them lying slightly, exaggerating their boring lives to seem almost glamorous, in hopes the
other wouldn’t notice how desperately they wished for change.

Kim Dokja wouldn’t consider himself a good parent, but he knew enough to know a parent should
never place their burdens on their child. But Biyoo, though young, could tell his smile rarely
reached his eyes, the twinkling in them less like that of stars and more like candlelight in the wind.

Just the slightest problem would blow them out.

“Explain.” The man demanded. Despite his stony expression and menacing aura, Yoo Sangah did
not flinch.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. We never had a book like that in our store, especially not
one that requires a deposit.”

“The man took my name down. It should be in your records.”

Yoo Sangah begrudgingly flicked through their record book.

“Yoo Joonghyuk, was it? I’m afraid your name’s not written down anywhere. Are you sure this is
the right place?”

“Yes. Let me talk to the man who was here before.”

Hidden amongst the bookshelves, Kim Dokja gulped. How would he know the man would come
back the very next day? He calmed his breathing and slowly, quietly, began creeping out of sight.
If he could just reach the back door…

Blocking the door were several piles of books. He was starting to regret not doing his job properly.
But he had no time to curse his past self; he could hear Yoo Joonghyuk’s demands growing ever
more impatient.

Screw it. Kim Dokja pushed the boxes aside. The books toppled loudly, but he didn’t stop to see
the mess he’d made. He bolted out the door, rushing down the busy street. He could hear a pair of
footsteps behind him.

How the hell is he so damn fast?! Kim Dokja turned a corner, hoping to lose him amongst the
bustling street. He darted behind a building, pausing to catch his breath.

A shadow fell over him.

Shit.

“There you are.”

Kim Dokja turned around, hands in the air. He put on his best smile.

Yoo Joonghyuk grabbed his collar, shoving him against the wall.

“Give me one reason I shouldn’t send you straight to jail.”

Like a fool, Kim Dokja opened his mouth. He did the only thing he could think to do:

“Wie gehts? Ich spreche kein English, um, es tut mir leid-“

“Don’t pretend you don’t speak English.”

Kim Dokja spat out whatever words he remembered Yoo Sangah practising. Yoo Joonghyuk did
not look impressed.

“Um, ich liebe dich…?” Kim Dokja offered, unsure of anything he had just said.

The hand at his collar froze. Slowly, he was put back down.

Did it work?

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at him. Kim Dokja couldn’t help feeling like every crime he had ever
committed was about to be presented in front of him. I wonder if Han Sooyoung will come to my
hanging…

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed, running a hand through his hair. He does look quite nice, even with his
hair all ruffled, Kim Dokja noted, before internally slapping himself. Not the time and definitely
not the place.

“I’m afraid I cannot accept your feelings. However, I can see your words are sincere,” Yoo
Joonghyuk paused, “I don’t care about the money-”

Of course you don’t, spoilt jerk. Kim Dokja bit his lip but kept silent. He purposefully chose to
ignore the strange first sentence the man said, chalking it up to a noble’s weird way of speaking.

“-But if you swear to refrain from ever doing this again, I will let you go.”

Kim Dokja narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure why the man had done a 180, but he decided to take
the opportunity before he changed his mind.

“Yes, sir…” There’s no way in hell I’ll be ripping you off again.
 The man seemed surprisingly satisfied. He didn’t question the truth of his words, simply taking
them at face value.

Yoo Joonghyuk cleared his throat, “Good. Then I shall be off.”

Once he was definitely gone, Kim Dokja sank to the floor. His heart was still racing. I really
thought I was a goner. He hadn’t needed to return the money and he hadn’t gone to jail. Even so,
he couldn’t help feeling like this wasn’t the end.

Chapter End Notes

ive got everything planned out, but writing it might take some time so apologies in
advance.
but strap in because these two are class-a fools!

upload schedule will be once per fortnight on wednesdays, so the next ch will be
posted on 26/4!

translations:
wie gehts? ich spreche kein english, um, es tut mir leid- = how are you? i don't speak
english, um, i'm sorry-
ich liebe dich = i love you
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes

This chapter will be mostly world building/setting, but the next chapter will be far
more fun!

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“What was that about?” Yoo Sangah asked, concerned.

Kim Dokja had dragged himself back to work, his shirt crumpled and his legs still shaking slightly,
though less from fear and more from a severe lack of exercise.

“Um… Good question…”

“He looked like he was going to kill you. How did you even get into that situation, let alone get out
of it?”

While her words sounded a little bit harsh, her voice was gentle, which made Kim Dokja feel even
worse about the lie he was about to tell her.

“I really don’t know. There was probably some misunderstanding. I said a few words to him and he
let me go. Uh, but, um…” Kim Dokja wasn’t quite sure how to ask this. “On a very unrelated note,
what does ‘ich liebe dich’ mean again?”

“…Did he say that to you?”

“Uh, no, I said it to him. Why? Is it bad?”

Yoo Sangah covered her mouth, doubling over. Kim Dokja stared at her with worry.

“What is it? What did I say to him?”

Yoo Sangah sat up, slowly. She wiped her tears, biting back a laugh. Kim Dokja’s fear evaporated,
replaced with a deep sense of embarrassment.

“…What did I say?” His voice was tinged with a different kind of fear.

“You confessed to him.”

“What do you mean?” Kim Dokja decided to go for the nicer meaning of her words, “Like, my sins
or something?”

“You told him you love him.”

“Ah…”

Kim Dokja desperately wanted to find a deep hole or a large book to hide in.
“-No way! Did he really say that?”

“Yeah.”

Yoo Sangah and Han Sooyoung were sitting in her office, discussing the events of the day. Kim
Dokja had long since returned home.

On hearing what had happened to Kim Dokja, or more specifically the conversation after, Han
Sooyoung could not contain her amusement.

She giggled like a little girl, laughter which quickly turned into more of a roar, like that of an MTT
turbine superbike’s engine.

When she was done, Han Sooyoung wiped her eyes. “What an idiot. I wonder what the poor soul
he confessed to is thinking.”

“Hmm… me too…” But Yoo Sangah didn’t really seem to be thinking much of it.

“What’s wrong? Worried that man is gonna put Kim Dokja in jail for harassment or something?
Relax, I doubt they even understood the language. Not many do, other than nerds like you, or
royalty…”

Han Sooyoung paused.

“Wait, did you say his name was Yoo Joonghuk..?”

Yoo Sangah didn’t respond immediately. She thought to herself for a long moment, before
speaking.

“When I was younger, I remember the royal family coming to the orphanage I was living in – back
when the previous king and queen were alive – and I saw the prince. It was a long time ago, but it
was such a big event I still remember their faces. And the prince’s…”

She didn’t need to finish her story. Han Sooyoung was quiet for a moment.

Then she began to laugh.

“That idiot! Not only did he go and confess to somebody, but he happened to be the king, of all
people! Wait – did you tell him?”

“Tell him..?”

“That the one he confessed to was the King.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t. I wasn’t completely sure and I didn’t want to stress him out. I’ll make sure to tell
him tomorrow, though.”

“Don’t.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell that idiot. I get the feeling it’ll be more fun if he doesn’t know. Call it… a writer’s
insight.”

“I didn’t know writers could see the future.”

“Heh, magician writers like me can. Well, the future of fools like that, anyway.”

“There’s something that’s a bit weird, though,” Yoo Sangah said after a moment’s thought.

“What is it?”

“Well, I just don’t get why the king would come to this library, of all places.”

“It’s not all surprising. We have practically every book ever written. Maybe he was looking for a
special tome or something.”

“Maybe...”

First the book he got for Yoo Mia ended up being full of rubbish poetry and children’s drawings,
then it turned out he was scammed. And then confessed to. And now, he had to be present at what
was probably the dullest meeting he had ever been in. And the bar was low.

“Your majesty, I believe it is time to hire a personal guard.”

The other officials nodded, muttering their agreements. They couldn’t see his expression, with him
hidden behind a curtain, but his face was stormy with irritation.

“I don’t need one. I am more than capable of fending for myself.” But the officials continued to
voice their displeasure.

Yoo Joonghyuk disliked them. While some of them had his best interests in mind, concerned for
his safety – though less for him and more because of the political issues him being harmed would
bring – others simply wished for him to have a bodyguard as a way to control him.

“If you are struggling to choose a guard, why not Sun Wukong? He has proven himself talented as
a platoon leader, I’m sure he would be more than capable to be your bodyguard.”

“Are you implying even a platoon leader could keep me safe? Then why can’t I, seeing as I am the
king?”

The official spluttered slightly. Yoo Joonghyuk ignored him and continued speaking, “Besides, I
already asked him. He refused my offer.”

“Then,” A different official spoke up, “Would you like me to recommend one of my soldiers? I can
guarantee they are more than strong enough to protect you, your majesty.”

They wouldn’t be there to protect me, but as your tool. Yoo Joonghyuk sighed loudly, making sure
they could hear his displeasure. He was rather tempted to toss a chair at them.

“I have an alternative idea.” It was Uriel, who had just arrived. “I apologise for being late, I had
paperwork to finish.” The whipped cream on the corner of her mouth said otherwise, but Yoo
Joonghyuk decided not to point it out. The officials dared not to either, with the heavy atmosphere
being somewhat lifted by her arrival.

“What is it?”

“Well, why not hold a tournament?”

“Hm.”

Though he sounded unimpressed, Yoo Joonghyuk was actually encouraging her to elaborate
further. Thankfully, Uriel had long since grown accustomed to his minimal way of speaking, so she
continued.

“Not only would it mean you get the best fighter in the country, but it would be a good chance to
get the people to celebrate. Besides, you could even show that handsome face of yours-“

“A tournament sounds like a good idea. Since you suggested it, I will leave the preparations to
you.”

“Ah…” Uriel regretted teasing him.

“You are all dismissed.”

A few of the officials grumbled slightly, but none said a word against him. Once it was only Uriel
and Yoo Joonghyuk remaining, he stepped out from behind the curtain.

“Why are you still here?”

“I came to deliver a letter from our diplomat.”

“You could just leave it on my desk, as you normally do.”

“This one was delivered with utmost urgency. I thought you should read it as soon as possible.”

With mild concern on his face, Yoo Joonghyuk took the letter.

[To everyone’s favourite King,

Things have been going well enough on my end, so rest easy. That was not the reason I had this
letter sent to you with such haste.

Rather, it has to do with a certain vision I told you about last time.]

Anna Croft. A clairvoyant, who was currently in the neighbouring country to sort out a few
diplomatic squabbles the two countries had been having recently.

[I believe I told you about a special encounter you would have soon. Unfortunately, I was not able
to see the exact details. I have a meeting soon enough, and would like to get on the ministers’ good
sides with a story or two. So I was hoping you could provide the exact details (and soon!).

You had best be specific because who knows, there may be a war if I am not able to converse well
with said ministers. And make sure the response is sent quickly.

Your favourite diplomat,

Anna Croft

P.S. I saw the confession part already, so don’t you dare try and leave that out.]

Yoo Joonghyuk’s concern quickly turned to irritation.

Having read the letter on his way to his office and now being at his desk, he quickly picked up a
pen and some paper, scribbling out a response.
[Anna Croft,

He attempted to unlawfully take money from me. When I confronted him, he confessed to me and I
rejected him.

From YJH]

That ought to be enough detail, he sincerely believed.

Folding up the letter, he handed it to Uriel, who had been peeking over his shoulder, much unlike
how she should.

“You got a confession?” She asked with a smirk. “With your personality?”

Yoo Joonghyuk glared at her.

“What was his name?” She continued talking, unperturbed.

“I don’t know.”

“He confessed and you didn’t bother to remember it? So cruel…”

“He never told me it in the first place.”

“He confessed to you but you didn’t bother to ask? That’s worse.”

“Why is it my responsibility to ask for his name, when he’s the one who confessed to me?”

Uriel grinned. “That’s the most passionate you’ve ever sounded about something.”

“Because you’re annoying me.”

“Really? Are you sure it’s not because you’re also upset you didn’t get to know his name?”

“Of course not.”

“Well Anna Croft said it’s a special encounter, right? Perhaps you’ll have another one in the future.
Make sure to ask his name if that happens!”

With that, seeing his glare directed towards her, she excused herself and left.

Yoo Joonghyuk sat still for a moment, her words in his head. He quickly pushed them to the side,
returning to what he was doing.

Two weeks later, several news articles and posters appeared.

Tournament! Free entry, no requirements! Seven thousand gold coins as the prize!

Several questions circled the readers’ heads – first and foremost: would the king be there?

But for a girl out in the countryside, there was only one thing she was thinking about.

Seven thousand gold coins? And all she had to do was beat up a few goons?

She smirked, dusting herself off and adjusting her baseball cap. Too easy.
“Have you seen this?!” An older man burst in, holding one of the newspapers and waving it
around. “Seven thousand-“ He froze when he saw the scene before him.

Several adults pummelled and bruised. All of them were unconscious. In the middle of them stood
a girl no older than sixteen.

“Jihye! What did I tell you about beating them all up?!”

“They started it!”

He sighed, head in his hands. “Have you seen the news?”

“I have,” she said with a grin.

“You’re going to join the tournament, aren’t you?”

“Well of course! And I’ll win. And when I do, I’m going to have one of those large city houses,
with lots of servants. I’ll never come back to this stupid little town.”

The man chuckled a little at her words, not quite believing them. Or she’ll discover she’s nothing
but a big fish in a small pond.

Biyoo poked at her plate, making a face each time she took a bite.

“It’s just carrots. You should make sure to eat them.”

“Daddy can’t say anything. You don’t like tomatoes.”

“That…” Kim Dokja felt a little betrayed by her harsh words, made worse because they were true.
“…If you don’t eat your carrots, your horn will shrink and you won’t have it anymore.”

Biyoo’s eyes widened in horror and she clutched at her horn. She quickly swallowed the remaining
carrots. She felt her horn again and her expression relaxed.

“The carrots help it grow, right?”

“…Yeah.”

She nodded, thinking something over. “That makes sense. My horn feels bigger now.”

Kim Dokja held back his laugh. “That– That’s good. I’m glad.”

He cleared the plates away, thinking to himself as he washed the dishes. Behind him, Biyoo rushed
back in.

“Daddy! We got mail!”

“Really? What does it say?”

Biyoo scowled at him. “I don’t know.”

“I thought you were a big girl. Can’t you read?”

 “I- I can! I just don’t read boring adult stuff.”

“Ah, of course.” He dried his hands and took the newspaper from her.

“Hm? Why are you still here? Don’t tell me you want me to read you what this ‘boring adult stuff’
says?”

“No! I’m just here because I want to be. That’s all.”

Kim Dokja smiled, then read the paper aloud.

“…Is seven thousand gold coins a lot of money?”

“It is. More than you can imagine.”

“Then I’m gonna go and win it! Then we can have a really big house! And you’ll never have to
work, so we can spend all day together!”

Kim Dokja enjoyed her dreams, but his heart ached a little. He didn’t want her to feel burdened by
their financial state.

“There’s no need for that. Besides, strong people from all around the country are coming; do you
think you can beat them?”

“Of course I can! I beat you at arm wrestling yesterday, didn’t I?”

“…That’s true.” Sort of…

Biyoo practised showing her muscles, then stopped and looked at him questioningly.

“…Will there be a lot of people there?”

“That’s right, from all over the country.”

“Can we go?”

Kim Dokja shook his head. “It can be dangerous when lots of people gather together.” He ruffled
her hair. “Now then, time for bed.”

Kim Dokja didn’t have a hope in hell of winning that competition. But he had thought of another
way to earn a bit of money from the event.

Lots of people would be there, mostly from small towns, unaware of how things in the city went. If
he could sell them an item or two, it would just constitute as good business, right?

He hoped Biyoo would never learn of his morally dubious methods.

Chapter End Notes

dont ask why jihye gets a baseball cap in a medieval fantasy setting, i just cant imagine
her without one.
also thank you all so so much for the kudos and the comments and reading it in
general!!! ik im supposed to be a writer but idk how to describe how happy its made
me <33
 Chapter 3
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Kim Dokja entered a sweet-smelling fruit store, taking a few envious glances at the food on
display.

“Sorry, but I can’t let you have any more freebies.”

The man behind the counter scratched the back of his neck, apologetic.

“That’s fine, that isn’t why I’m here-“ Kim Dokja stopped for a moment. “Lee Hyungsung? I
thought it’d be your girlfriend.”

Lee Hyungsung looked at him, confused. “Girlfriend..?”

“Yeah? Er, Jung Heewon?”

Lee Hyungsung went an impressive shade of pink. “Ah, we’re not, you know, um…“

“Oh.” Surprised and a little embarrassed, Kim Dokja quickly changed the subject, “Er, well,
anyway, have you heard about the tournament?”

“I think everyone has.”

“Apparently lots of people are planning on setting up stands near the coliseum, to sell a few things
to the crowd that’ll be coming. Are you going to?”

“Probably. Um, but why?”

“Well, I was hoping to hitch a ride and join you. I can help you unload as payment, if you’d like.”

Lee Hyungsung thought for a moment, though Kim Dokja already knew he would accept. For
better or worse, he had a heart of gold.

Yoo Joonghyuk tapped the seat in mild irritation. It was excessively lavish, almost throne-like.
Next to him was another, no less decorated despite being slightly smaller. In it sat his sister.

As far as both the audience and the guards were aware, he was Yoo Mia’s personal bodyguard,
who had been entrusted to act as king for the duration of the tournament.

But having to sit here and wait was unnecessarily boring. He glanced at Yoo Mia, who was
chatting to one of her ladies-in-waiting.

He drummed his fingers on the armrest a few more times before standing up.

“I will return shortly.”

He stood up and turned to leave. Unsurprised, Yoo Mia waved him goodbye.

“Make sure you come back by the time the tournament starts!”
He nodded.

“Thank you for the ride!” Kim Dokja jumped off the back of the wagon, stretching his legs. He’d
been stuck between several large boxes, unable to move, for over an hour.

“It was no problem. But please make sure you’re back before it gets dark,” Lee Hyungsung said
with worry.

Kim Dokja gave him a thumbs up before wandering off. The tournament brought many people
from all around the country. He glanced around for those who seemed to be well-off, looking for
loose jewellery and other easily swipe-able items.

A wallet peering out someone’s bag. A bracelet or a watch, slightly loose. When you knew what to
look for, it wasn’t difficult to find something to take. Although it was a bit shameful to admit it,
Kim Dokja was rather well-versed in the art of pick-pocketing.

He didn’t need to bump into them; merely brushing past them was enough, considering how busy
the street was. Even if they did notice, he’d be long gone, difficult to find in the crowd and almost
impossible to reach.

But perhaps it was his overreliance on this which led him to the situation he was now in.

He was currently on the floor, palms hurt from hitting the cold, pebbled road. In one of his hands
he clutched a black leather wallet. The man in front of him, who had turned just as Kim Dokja had
grabbed the wallet, knocking him down, was staring at it with a frown.

“Oi, the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man sneered, glaring down at Kim Dokja. He had a
scar across his eye and his arms were crossed. He looked like a typical street thug.

“Ah, I’m sorry; I noticed you’d dropped your wallet.” Kim Dokja didn’t miss a beat, the lie easily
leaving his lips. He stood up and dusted himself off, appearing calm despite his heart running a
million miles an hour.

“Oh, I see!” The thug gave Kim Dokja a hearty pat on the back, almost knocking him to the floor
once more. “I apologise, I mistook you for a thief!”

Despite his words sounding rather passive aggressive, he seemed quite sincere.

Is he an idiot? Kim Dokja smelled a possibility.

He handed the wallet back quite happily, knowing he would soon be taking its contents.

“Ah, sir, before you go on your way, um…” Kim Dokja hesitated slightly, doing his best to sound
well-meaning. “I happen to be a supernatural specialist, of sorts, and I noticed some rather unkind
spirits hanging around you. Can I offer you a talisman?”

The thug’s eyes opened wide in horror.

“Evil spirits?!”

“That’s right. I am sure that if you don’t do something about them soon, great misfortune shall
befall you.”

He looked terrified.
“What do I need to do?” His voice was barely a whisper, trembling so hard it was difficult to make
out the words.

“Don’t worry. As I said, I am a supernatural specialist. Do you have any paper or a pen?”

Almost instantly, the thug’s subordinates handed him every piece of paper and every pen located in
a two-meter vicinity.

Picking up a particularly glittery bright pink pen and some rather colourful paper, he scribbled a
few nonsense images and letters onto it. He then muttered a few words, eyes closed and
concentrated like he was actually casting a spell.

“Here. Carry this with you and it will protect you.”

“D-Do we need one as well?” One of his subordinates asked, also concerned.

“Hmm… Not at the moment. But I can give you one to ward off any potential spirits, if you’d
like.”

He repeated the scribbling and strange incantation ritual three more times, handing them their new
‘talismans’.

“Thank you!” The men looked like they were about to cry with relief. Kim Dokja watched them
expectantly.

“Is there something wrong?” The thug asked.

Of course there is! I didn’t do all this out of goodwill – shouldn’t you be paying me now?!

“No, not at all. I simply enjoy looking at the smiles I am able to bring to others.”

“Ah, you are truly kind…”

There was another pause. Kim Dokja was starting to lose hope.

“Is there any way we can repay you?”

Yes, there it was! He kept his face impassive, though he was grinning inwardly.

“Well, I dare not ask for payment. I know that good things are best done without reward.” Kim
Dokja geared up to say his ‘however’ and reap the rewards. But before he could open his mouth,
one of the subordinates began talking.

“I understand! Then, consider this a gift and not payment.”

Oh…?

With that, the man took out his wallet, thick with money.

Oh…!

Kim Dokja felt almost drunk with glee. He closed his eyes and cleared his throat, about to say his
thanks.

But he was not presented with so much as a penny. Instead, he was handed a skewer. A skewer of
only fruits and vegetables, at that.
“Wha…?” He could not hide his confusion.

“These are festival skewers, so you can only get them on special occasions. We hope you enjoy!”

With that, they waved Kim Dokja goodbye, the four of them following the crowd, heading in the
direction of the coliseum.

Kim Dokja stood there, watching them go with his mouth still hung open.

He took a sad bite out of the skewer. Despite being covered in various exciting spices, he could
still taste what it was originally. A tomato.

Gross.

Defeated, Kim Dokja walked along the coliseum’s edge, looking for somewhere to sit down. He
might as well enjoy the show, after all.

“Officer, you have to catch him! That bracelet was worth more than your yearly salary, dammit!
Find the bastard that stole it immediately!”

A woman was yelling at a poor guard doing his rounds. Kim Dokja turned to glance in her
direction, her words causing his palms to grow slightly sweaty. When he saw who she was, he
almost cried out in alarm.

The one she’s talking about is me!

Trying not to overreact, he briskly turned around, looking desperately for a seat that was not
already taken. His eyes fell on one not far from him. Trying not to walk too fast, but also trying to
move as quickly as he could, he made his way over. With a silent sigh of relief he sat down,
keeping his eyes concentrated on the arena, though no matches had started yet. If I don’t look at
them, they probably won’t look at me. It’ll be fine.

But he quickly felt a stare on him. Almost sick with concern, he tried to subtly glance around,
looking for where it was coming from.

Yoo Joonghyuk could spot him from a mile away. Jet-black hair and the same coat as the last time
they’d met, he was hard to miss. Yoo Joonghyuk watched him, noticing he seemed to be in a hurry,
walking a little too quickly down the row of coliseum seats. The same row, Yoo Joonghyuk
realised with mild irritation, which he was sitting on.

He watched as his eyes fell on the empty seat next to Yoo Joonghyuk, where he hurried over to and
sat down. As though to play it off, he then focused his eyes on arena below.

There aren’t even any fights on. Who is he trying to fool?

It was obvious – he’d seen Yoo Joonghyuk and the space next to him, then raced over to try and sit
there.

This man… Yoo Joonghyuk was baffled. I already rejected him once, why was he so persistent?

His eyes glanced around, then landed on Yoo Joonghyuk. They widened in fake surprise.
“Fancy seeing you here!” he said, as though he had not clearly sat down on purpose.

Yoo Joonghyuk said nothing, hoping it would serve of a reminder of his previous rejection and he
would be left it peace. But the man was persistent.

Kim Dokja was more than a little concerned at having sat next to someone who caught him after
he scammed them and then who rejected him after his accidental confession. Despite that, he felt a
little relieved at the same time, glad the glare he’d felt was not that of a guard.

He tried his best to greet him kindly, practically screaming ‘I’ve turned over a new leaf like
promised’ even if it was a lie. But he was only met with silence. An awkward silence, which settled
over them like hot ash.

“What are you doing here? I’m actually here as part of my work. What about you?”

“…”

Though he still hadn’t received a response, Kim Dokja waited for an answer.

What kind of librarian goes to watch duels as part of their work? His terrible lie was almost
charming. Almost.

He stared at Yoo Joonghyuk, despite his silence, looking so expectant. He couldn’t help but
answer.

“I’m here for work as well.”

“How exciting! What kind of work?”

“…”

The silence continued. Kim Dokja was not surprised, nor deterred. He shifted the question.

“Does your work allow you to slack off and watch the show?” It was meant as a light-hearted joke,
but watching Yoo Joonghyuk scowl was rather entertaining.

“…I’m off shift at the moment.”

“Ah, I see. Will you be off work for the rest of the day, then? There are lots of exciting stands,
since it’s the festival and all. Are you going to go see any?”

Yoo Joonghyuk eyed the man with mild suspicion.

He’s so blatant about everything. It’s obvious that if I say I’m free, he’ll try and ask me to join him
in looking around.

“I’m busy.”
“What a shame, these festivities don’t come around often.”

He’s so uncomfortable with everything. I thought I’d be the one feeling that way, but his expression
is priceless.

Kim Dokja had noticed the way he stiffened when anyone moved close to him and the way he tried
his best to avoid them, despite the rather cramped seating arrangements.

He had also noticed how uncomfortable he was whenever he spoke to him. He would feel bad and
would’ve usually stopped trying to force a conversation, but it was quite funny seeing Yoo
Joonghyuk try to bite back his disgust and answer him. So he decided to talk to him some more.

“I’ll be heading home after this, since I live quite far away.” Kim Dokja gave a dramatic sigh,
“Shame I still need to make myself dinner.”

You don’t, though, since your servants prepare it all for you.

Yoo Joonghyuk didn’t understand what the man was talking about now.

Is he asking me to make dinner for him?

“I don’t eat other people’s food.”

Where did that come from? Can he read minds or is he just insane?

“…ok?” Kim Dokja wasn’t sure what to say.

Yoo Joonghyuk was silent for a moment.

“What’s your name?”

So taken by surprise at him initiating the conversation, Kim Dokja didn’t think things through.

“It’s Kim Dokja.”

He wanted to hit himself – what idiot gave their name out like that to someone they’d scammed?

Suddenly, the crowd cheered loudly. Their attention was drawn to the fight happening below. The
show had begun. With the fighters stepping out into the ring, the crowd began to cheer.

When Kim Dokja looked to his right, Yoo Joonghyuk had disappeared.

Ah…

Did he feel this way because he was nervous about his name being given to the police? Kim Dokja
didn’t understand the strange feeling in his chest when he saw the empty seat beside him.

Yoo Joonghyuk had returned to his special tournament seat. Though the matches below were
somewhat interesting, especially as he had the best view, enhanced by a magic-imbued item
allowing him to see the arena below in even more detail, he found his eyes drawn to somewhere
else.

The person sitting on the other side of the coliseum. Though he was far away, Yoo Joonghyuk
could still spot his black hair and white coat.

Kim Dokja. Was that his real name? Well, it didn’t matter. I asked simply because otherwise Uriel
would continue to pester me. That was all.

Though that was what he told himself, he continued staring at the black-haired figure.

It wasn’t until the finals that he felt the fights were truly worth watching. A young girl fighting
against a rather burly man. Despite that, she held her own. It was more than impressive.

He narrowed his eyes and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Yoo Mia looked at him with curiosity.

“To greet the winner.”

Though his voice was stiff, she didn’t seem to mind. She had long since grown used to her
brother’s awkward way of talking.

Jihye clutched the shaking sword with both her hands. Her arms still tingled from blocking the
blow sent at her. Her opponent was stronger than she had expected – just a few crosses of their
swords and her fingers began to go numb, her legs struggling to support her.

Even so, it wasn’t like defending was all she had done. The man in front of her had several
lacerations; a few only surface wounds, but a few nearly crippling. His shoulder was gushing blood
and his thigh had almost been pierced through.

Despite that, the man stared at her with focused eyes. Unlike her previous opponents, he wasn’t
underestimating her.

After a moment, he lunged forward, raising his sword and exposing his chest. Jihye didn’t fall for
it.

If I struggle to block, then…!

She twisted herself to the side, the sword passing harmlessly by her. Quickly raising her own and
aiming it for the opponent’s throat, she stepped forward to counterattack.

But the man seemed prepared. He turned his blade, aiming for her side.

Aiming for each other’s vitals, they both moved at the same time and at the same speed. The
winner would be the one who did not retreat.

The sword dug into her side and although it hurt like hell, she continued pressing forward. Blood
trickled from the man’s neck.

Unable to take it any longer, he leaped backwards. Jihye followed him closely, her sword leaving
no room for him to fight back.
Unable to do anything but retreat, he was forced off the platform. The referee blew his whistle.

Though bruised and bloody, she had won.

Panting heavily, she took in the cheers of the audience, a smile on her face.

After a moment, collecting herself, she stepped down, exiting the arena. The moment she was away
from the eyes of the audience, she leaned against the wall. Now that the fight was over and the
adrenaline had worn off, her injuries were impossible to ignore.

She heard footsteps approaching her. Looking up, she saw a man in black. He walked with a slight
air of regality, but Jihye, having never met anyone noble before, didn’t notice. She frowned at him.

“Civilians aren’t allowed here.”

He stopped a few feet in front of her, crossing his arms.

“I’m aware.”

“What’re you doing, then?” She stared at him. With his fully black clothes and equally dark hair,
he looked…

“Emo.”

The man stared at her. “What?”

Jihye cleared her throat, straightening her back.

“Nothing. Who are you, anyway?”

“Follow me.” He did not respond, instead turning around. He began walking away, obviously
expecting her to follow him.

“Uh, hell no. Answer my question.”

He stopped and turned, opening his mouth to speak. He was interrupted by a woman’s voice.

“Don’t say anything. You’ll only make things worse. Goodness me, I knew I shouldn’t leave this to
you.”

A blonde-haired woman appeared. Glancing at the two of them and gathering the situation, she let
out a small sigh.

“First of all, let’s get you treated. After that… Well, how would you feel about becoming the
King’s bodyguard?”

Jihye scrunched up her nose. “No way.”

“The prize money would become your yearly salary.”

She stared at them slack-jawed, but only for a moment.

“I’m in. Show me which bastard you want me to protect.”

The woman pointed to the one in black.

“Him.”
Chapter End Notes

i spelt coliseum wrong every single time writing this chapter. im so glad spellcheck
exists.
never written a fight scene before but i wanted jihye to have a chance to shine because
she more than deserves it
 Chapter 4
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Kim Dokja yawned, in his usual corner of the library, half-reading a book. After accidentally
meeting Yoo Joonghyuk at the tournament over a week ago, he had feared he could be arrested at
any moment. Feeling tense and cautious every time he stepped out of his house had left him beyond
tired.

“If you sleep on the job again, I will personally make you my test dummy.”

A shadow fell over Kim Dokja and he looked up. It was Han Sooyoung, whose hands were behind
her back, as though she were hiding something. He eyed her cautiously.

“What do you want?”

She scrunched her nose up at his cold greeting. “So rude. I actually have something for you.”

“You should stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles. Also, no thank you. I don’t want anything you
have.”

“Not even a duplicate of the invitation Yoo Sangah received to some noble’s party?”

Kim Dokja raised an eyebrow at this. “Keep talking.”

“I’m thinking we go in and cause some drama.”

There was a small pause.

“…Is that it? No other plans?”

“Well what do you expect? It’s some little girl’s birthday party, there won’t be much to do except
dance and talk. The most exciting thing that can happen is if someone gets wine spilled on them.”

Kim Dokja snorted. “That’s such a lame excuse. Be honest – you just want a reason to see Yoo
Sangah in a dress.”

“And if I do?”

“Well, why bring me along?”

“I already said. It’ll be boring. We need to make our own entertainment somehow.”

“…Why does it feel like you’re treating me like some kind of a clown?”

“Because you are one.” The voice this time belonged not to Han Sooyoung, but Kim Namwoon,
standing a few paces away. “What’s this about a party? You better not think of going without me.”

Kim Dokja shook his head. “No way you’re coming with us.”

“Wait!” Han Sooyoung threw up her hand to stop him. “My writer’s inspiration has struck!” She
grinned, while the other two exchanged worried glances. “Kim Namwoon, you’re coming with
us.”
The three of them stared at the elegant gates leading to the manor. On either side, two guards stood
checking each attendee’s invitation. Noticing all of the guests arriving in carriages, Kim Dokja
frowned.

“Shouldn’t we have hired one as well?”

“Too expensive,” Han Sooyoung reasoned.

“Then just use your magic. Transform a pumpkin or something.”

“If I could do that, I would’ve turned you into the roach you are long ago.”

Kim Dokja glared at her.

Ignoring the two of them bickering, Kim Namwoon rolled up his sleeves.

“Let’s just teleport,” He began to take out his wand.

“Don’t you dare!” Han Sooyoung snapped.

“Why not? It’d be so much easier.”

Han Sooyoung rolled her eyes. “We’re supposed to be playing out a torn-apart family. Can’t you
see? Having our invitations checked is our first scene! If we don’t show true dedication from the
beginning, what’s the point?”

The two stared at her with a mix of scorn and concern. She sighed. “This is why I’m the writer.
You two lack any kind of creativity or dedication.”

“…So what are we going to do, then, little miss writer?”

One of the guards yawned loudly. Though it was hardly evening, the sun only having already set
due to the permanent winter days, he was already tired. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to
say he was bored.

Checking invitations only provided momentary relief from him having to stand irritatingly still,
and with the one he was on duty with being as interesting as a rock, he found himself almost losing
his mind.

So when he looked up to see several figures approaching, he was slow to react.

“Um, I’m afraid this isn’t a place you can wander into…” His voice trailed off, noticing the three
were wearing ballroom outfits. Sort of.

The woman’s purple dress was quite elegant, flowing all the way down to her heels. It never quite
touched the ground, the hem still impressively pristine despite her walking on the dirty, cobbled
path. Almost like magic.

The man beside her was not wearing anything as impressive. The guard’s eyes quickly scanned
over him and came to rest on the teenager between them. His collar was undone and his sleeves
were only half rolled down. His shirt was untucked, his hair messy, and there was an irritated
scowl on his face.
A stereotypical rowdy teenager. Had he not been desperately hoping for some kind of
entertainment, the guard would’ve been annoyed.

He opened his mouth to speak, about to ask why they came on foot, when the woman suddenly
spoke first.

She let out a long, long sigh. “This is all your fault…” There was a slight pause, “David.”

The man looked at her funny, before opening his mouth to speak. “My fault? How is this my
fault?”

The woman sighed again. “See, you never admit your mistakes. This is why things ended the way
they did. Honestly, I don’t know how I put up with you for all those years…”

The guard knew he should interrupt them, but he found himself inextricably drawn to their
argument, attempting to piece together what happened.

“It wasn’t my fault the coachman was a sham, alright? You say I never admit my mistakes, but
you’re the one always pinning the blame onto me. I knew I shouldn’t have come with you.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that, not in front of our son!”

“You started it – and besides, you only care about him when you’re losing-“

“Shut up, both of you!” It was the teenager, who was glaring daggers at his parents. From his
pocket, he pulled out three invitations and handed them over.

The guard glanced through them, too busy trying not to giggle at the argument he’d seen to
properly check them. He handed them back and cleared his throat, then opened the gates. The
parents continued to squabble the whole way through.

When they were far enough away, the three exchanged glances.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Kim Dokja admitted. “But why the hell did you call me David?”

“You wanted me to use your real name?”

“Well, no, but David? Really?”

“Your name is now David Krofft. That’s with a ‘k’ and two ‘f’s.”

“…Why?”

“More fun.”

Kim Dokja shook his head, deciding to stop questioning it.

“Now then, it’s a masquerade. You did remember to bring a mask, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Kim Dokja and Kim Namwoon responded respectively.

After arriving at the manor, quite a distance to travel on foot, they were greeted by several
servants, then led through a few extravagant, ornate halls. The décor screamed excessiveness, each
object large and lavish, dusted with gold or framed with silver. Staring at everything that passed
them by, Kim Dokja lamented his small pockets. If only he could use magic, he would swipe a few
of them…

Before he could properly sulk, they had arrived at the ballroom.

If the halls were beautiful, then the room they were now in was gorgeous. In the face of such
overwhelming beauty, Kim Dokja could feel himself grow uglier.

Something Han Sooyoung was quick to point out. “No amount of jewellery or makeup could make
you even a fraction as pretty as a speck of dust on this floor.”

Before Kim Dokja could respond, she cleared her throat and changed topics.

“As I said before, you’re my ex-husband. You know what to do.”

“Hang on, we’re divorced? I thought we just had marital issues.”

“Do you want us to be married?”

“Well, no, but… Whatever, I was too good for you anyway.”

Han Sooyoung rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Go get yourself another date if you’re so amazing. I
bet you can’t.”

“Hah! Fine, watch me.”

Kim Dokja strode off, while Han Sooyoung shook her head with a mildly concerned expression.

He scanned the area, eyes glancing on each of the other party-goers. With their faces covered by
masks and adorned in all kinds of jewellery and fine fabrics, it was difficult to tell how attractive
they were without having your attention brought to a distracting necklace or glistening thread.
Though, Kim Dokja supposed, that was probably the point.

He needed someone whose handsomeness shone through despite their clothes and despite their face
being obscured. To beat Han Sooyoung, he needed someone with incontestable hotness.

Just when he was about to give up, deeming his standards to be too high, he saw them. The perfect
person.

In a ballroom of bright colours, he was hard to miss, wearing almost all black. That wasn’t to say
his outfit wasn’t boring, however. It had several patterns weaved on the waistcoat and jacket in
silver embroidery, not overbearing, but instead balanced with the deceiving simplicity of the rest of
his clothes.

His shoulders were square and anyone could tell he was well built. Looking sleek and attractive, it
was strange that he wasn’t surrounded by people wishing to talk with him.

Whether Kim Dokja didn’t notice or didn’t care about such a discrepancy, it was hard to tell. His
thoughts were rather simple: That man was more than enough to make Han Sooyoung eat her
words.
Mustering up his courage, helped by the fact his face was covered, he took a deep breath and
strode over.

Before he had a chance to call out to the man, he turned around. Was he some kind of swordsman?
His senses were impressive even in the loud ballroom.

Now, Kim Dokja thought to himself. How should I approach the topic? I should probably be subtle
about it…

After giving it a moment’s thought, he cleared his throat.

“Hello,” he said, awkward. The man was silent, simply watching. “Um, my situation is a bit
complicated, but I need you to be my husband.”

The man continued to stare at him.

Wait, no! That’s not it!

“Let me correct myself.” Kim Dokja desperately hid the embarrassment from his voice, “My ex-
wife is here and I would like to show her I’ve moved on, you know? So if you could pretend to be
my husband, just for the rest of the party, I would appreciate it. You don’t have to, however.”

There was a short pause. Kim Dokja could feel his palms go sweaty.

“I think you should.”

Kim Dokja glanced around for the source of the voice, his eyes falling on a little girl of about
eleven. She had black hair tied up into pigtails and was eating some cake.

Since when was she here? Kim Dokja frowned, looking at her a little closer. Her appearance
seemed familiar… His eyes widened in realisation. The princess! Wait, if that’s the princess,
then… His eyes turned to the man he was just talking to. …Then that must be her bodyguard. No
wonder no one was talking to him – he wasn’t a noble.

“Go on! It’s just for today!” The princess tugged on his trousers, looking up at him with pleading
eyes. The bodyguard sighed.

“Alright.”

Kim Dokja grinned. “Thank you! Then, right this way.” He grabbed the bodyguard’s hand, moving
through the crowd to where Han Sooyoung and Yoo Sangah were talking. As he made his way
across the room, he couldn’t shake this nagging feeling.

He realised the source of it a moment too late. The all-too-familiar voice and the irritatingly
handsome appearance. That bodyguard was none other than Yoo Joonghyuk.

What a coincidence that the princess’s bodyguard’s name is the same as her brother’s… Ah, no!
That’s irrelevant! Kim Dokja glanced back at Yoo Joonghyuk, who was watching him but not
resisting. What are the chances we meet again? Does he think I’m some kind of a stalker? No,
maybe he doesn’t recognise me… Yeah, I’ll just pretend I didn’t realise who he was…

By the time he had gathered himself, he was in front of his pretend ex-wife and Yoo Sangah. He
switched into acting mode, casting off his shame. He never had much dignity to begin with, so it
wasn’t hard.
He cleared his throat, though there was no need to get their attention. They were already staring at
him and the one he was dragging by the hand.

“Let me introduce you to,” he paused for dramatic effect, “my husband.”

The two said nothing. Beneath her mask, he could see Han Sooyoung’s expression of disbelief.

Kim Dokja put an awkward arm around Yoo Joonghyuk. Han Sooyoung’s expression deepened.
She remained silent.

This is starting to become unbearable. The little pride he had left began to wither away.

“…Is the stunned silence because he’s so handsome?” Kim Dokja asked, prodding for a response.

Yoo Sangah, who had taken a sip of wine, almost choked. Han Sooyoung continued to stare.
Unlike Kim Dokja, the two of them were not stupid. They knew exactly who it was in front of
them.

Deciding Kim Dokja’s life was too pitiful to end via king-ordered beheading, Han Sooyoung, as
though snapped out of a daze, finally spoke up. She had come here to cause some drama. Even if it
involved the king, so be it. At least Kim Dokja wouldn’t be decapitated alone.

“Well, let me introduce you to my girlfriend.” She gestured to Yoo Sangah, who stared at her with
wide eyes. “And, hang on, did you say husband? You’re married already? I knew you were acting
funny towards the end of our marriage! You- You were cheating on me, weren’t you?!” Han
Sooyoung let out a realistic sob.

Kim Dokja stared at her slack-jawed for a moment, impressed. But he quickly sprung into action.
“Of course not, stop with your overactive imagination. It’s simply that…” He glanced up at Yoo
Joonghyuk, who was staring at him questioningly. Kim Dokja looked away, deciding it would be
far too embarrassing to say his next few words while looking at him.

“I’m just so in love with him. I knew he was the one for me. Uh, isn’t that right…” Kim Dokja
hesitated, “…darling.”

There was silence.

To everyone’s surprise, Yoo Joonghyuk spoke.

“Sure.”

Kim Dokja smirked, enjoying the horrified look on Han Sooyoung’s face. Is she really that upset
she lost the bet? Whatever the reason, Kim Dokja was more than satisfied.

But Han Sooyoung wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

“He doesn’t seem very in love with you if you ask me-“

“-He’s just shy-”

“-If you’re really that in love, kiss.”

Both Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja stared at her.

“If you’re married, you should at least be able to do that much, right?” Han Sooyoung was well
aware she was playing with fire. She simply did not care. She was here for a good time, not a long
time.

After a moment, Yoo Joonghyuk leaned in, his breath tickling Kim Dokja’s cheek. He stiffened,
ears burning red. Woah woah woah, hold up-

“Wir sollten gehen,” Yoo Joonghyuk whispered. [We should go.]

Oh. Kim Dokja wasn’t sure how to feel, other than embarrassed. I thought he was actually going to
kiss me. Wait, was that German? Ah, right, he thinks I speak it…Wait, does that mean he
recognises me?

Kim Dokja desperately wanted to crawl into a hole and hide. He glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk, who
was thankfully no longer leaning in. He quickly pushed his shame aside – he could deal with that
later.

“Um, well, he just told me we have other things to do, so we’re gonna go…” Kim Dokja quickly
turned around, Yoo Joonghyuk following. Seems Han Sooyoung won this round. Damn.

Looking around for something to distract himself with, Kim Dokja spotted Kim Namwoon at the
buffet table and headed over. To his surprise, Yoo Joonghyuk was still following him. Ah, right, I
asked him to be my partner for the rest of the night. Well, it would be a shame not to continue this
bit for a little longer.

Kim Namwoon grabbed another fork, made of genuine silver. He glanced around for a moment,
before stuffing it up his sleeves. It joined the several other pieces of cutlery he already had there.

“What are you doing?”

Kim Namwoon whipped round, facing a young girl, quite a bit shorter than him.

“I’m a magician. I need this for my magic.” He lied.

The girl stared at him. “Really?”

“Yeah…”

“You’re a magician?! Show me some magic!”

Kim Namwoon glared at her. “No way. I only show my magic to important people.”

“But I am important. I’m the birthday girl. Since it’s my birthday, everybody has to listen to what I
say.”

“Hell no.”

The girl’s face contorted. She looked like she was about to cry. “Show. Me. Magic. I-I bet you’re
not even a real magician.”

“Uh, of course I’m a real magician! How dare you!” Kim Namwoon squared up, looking like he
was about to fight her.

Suddenly, someone cleared their throat. Looking around, Kim Namwoon saw Kim Dokja, with an
unknown man a few steps behind.
 The girl stormed off, leaving Kim Namwoon looking a bit sheepish. Kim Dokja only sighed.

“Um, this is my son. Namwoon, this is your new father. Shake his hand.”

“…What? The fuck did you just say?”

Kim Dokja glanced at Yoo Joonghyuk. “I’m so sorry; he’s not usually this rude.” He’s usually
worse. “Namwoon, shake his hand. You should at least greet him properly.”

“No way.” If I do, all of the cutlery is going to fall out.

Yoo Joonghyuk extended his hand. Previously, Uriel had told him he was far too stiff when
shaking hands. He had tried to get better at it, and was interested in if he was still that bad.

Tentatively, Kim Namwoon grabbed Yoo Joonghyuk’s hand. I’ll just be quick about it.

Yoo Joonghyuk jerked Kim Namwoon’s hand down with a force he didn’t expect. A knife and fork
shot out. One embedded itself nicely into a lady’s complicated and extravagant hairstyle. The other
made its way across the hall, popping a balloon and becoming rooted in the wall. As though that
wasn’t enough, the other pieces he had nabbed from the buffet table fell to the floor, clattering
loudly.

The entire ballroom fell silent, all eyes turning to the three of them.

“…What a firm handshake.” Kim Namwoon commented unhelpfully.

“Thanks.” Yoo Joonghyuk seemed genuinely pleased.

He glanced to Han Sooyoung, who was rubbing her temples and discreetly waving her wand. A
circle enveloped her, Kim Dokja and Kim Namwoon.

Kim Dokja turned to Yoo Joonghyuk, who was watching with confusion and concern. “Guess I’ll
have to leave early.”

With that, the three of them disappeared from the ballroom.

Chapter End Notes

i was almost tempted to have hsy turn a pumpkin into a carriage but decided itd be
funnier if they had to walk all the way there. bet it was further than theyd ever walked
before (if you’ve ever been to a country house, youll get what I mean), so they
probably needed the exercise tbh
also, yjhs pov next chapter, so youll finally know whats going on in that dumb head of
his

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