Edit 4/3/2019: Hey guys, so I've finally figured out that this will now be based loosely on 1850s Korea. That is all. Also, I'm adding 10x more description lol.

Playing Favorites:

Chapter Two: The Consort's Meeting

Three days later, a carriage pulled up to Kurapika's forested address. Painted all black with gold patterns of fire and roses, pulled by two blindingly white stallions. He could see it through the window glass in the kitchen, by the entrance, by the sliding door he'd stepped through so many times, soon for the last. The carriage proved ostentatious amidst the country road, where nothing but wooden carts and people in old, handstitched clothing passed by.

Kurapika's stomach inexplicably lurched at the sight, the remnants of his stomach rising in his throat. But he clenched his teeth and pushed the nausea down.

A gruff voice called out his name. Kurapika swallowed thickly. If he talked now, his voice would crack, and if his voice cracked, Leorio would worry even more. So, Kurapika didn't talk. He peered over his shoulder toward the man, who shifted nervously under Kurapika's scrutinizing gaze, turned amber in ribbons of sunlight.

"Kura . . ." he trailed off. Kurapika stepped forward, tongue still twisted with too many things to say. A pale, slender hand came up to rest on Leorio's shoulder, and Kurapika smiled a bit in reassurance. Leorio tensed, jaw tightening, but eventually, his hand settled over Kurapika's and gave it a small squeeze. It would be the last time they touched, and Kurapika wanted to savor it in some secret place of desire he hid under lock and key. The last time he'd go to sleep on his lumpy futon, the last time he'd accidentally burn himself on the kettle, the last time he'd listen to Leorio's snores as he drifted off into a much more pleasant sleep than Kurapika. The last time he'd hear him whisper in his ear.

Don't go.

Shut up. Please.

There came a looming shadow, outlined on the screen door. A knock on the door forced Kurapika to pull away, but the heat of Leorio's hand lingered, and before he could begin to forget it, he was enveloped in that same heat.

Don't go.

Kurapika wrapped his arms around Leorio's tall, gangly form.

Let go.

"Kwon-nari," the official's voice rung out, respectful to an absurd degree. Kurapika understood. His status had risen. He had to pull himself together and stop hanging onto a man who was so far below him.

It was Leorio who let him go first. The young medic shoved him away, as gently as he could, and Kurapika stumbled a little. He steadied himself against the door, before turning to toss the other man an icy glare.

Leorio grinned. "Send me some souvenirs, okay?"

Tears blurred his vision again, but Kurapika blinked them away, put on another smile, and nodded once.

"And some money too," Leorio added. He scratched the back of his spiky head nervously. "I'm kind of running low."

Kurapika snorted, "you're always running low." He slid the door open and outside a woman waited. Her short, dark hair was spiky at the ends, curling and framing her face. She wore the Ryusei Empire's military uniform - a sleek, black tunic with a matching cloak and trousers. On her shoulders were golden epaulets - and nearly half her face hid behind large, round spectacles.

"Are you Kwon-nari?" she asked, raising a scroll to her face and shifting her gaze from the paper to him and back to the paper once more.

"Yes."

"You look better in the picture."

Kurapika blinked, and said, "I'm sorry to disappoint."

"Shizuku," someone called from the carriage. A big, hulking man with earlobes that reached his shoulders stuck his head out the window. He, too, wore a military uniform, but it seemed a bit small on him. Kurapika found him much more suitable for the role of a monster than the woman. "We're leaving. Danchou's got a conference at noon, remember?"

"He does?" the woman asked, in that mellow, quiet voice of hers.

"We talked about it on the way here."

"We did?"

"Shizu, just get in the carriage," the man sighed, despondently, leaning back against the headrest.

"Okay," she replied. The woman turned back to Kurapika and grabbed his hand. "Let's go." And then he was being dragged to the carriage. Shizuku proved to be strong for such a small individual. Her grip left red marks and nail incisions in the back of his hand, and his fingers remained sore even minutes after she'd let go.

Shizuku opened the glossy door and gestured for him to get in. Kurapika glared into the dimly lit carriage. It was like they were taking him to a funeral. Which they would be soon, but let's not get ahead of ourselves.

"Kurapika-nari," Shizuku repeats, as they settled into the carriage's grey upholstery. "You'll be going in to meet Emperor Kuroro after Lady Neon."

Neon? Of the Nostrade clan? She was two years younger than Kurapika and had the mind of a child according to the rumors. She wasn't cut out for this. "I see."

"He wants you to make yourself at home while you wait," she droned on. "You'll be escorted to your quarters. We'll notify you when it's your turn to meet the Emperor. Any questions?"

"I have many," Kurapika replied. "But first, where does the Emperor wish to meet us?"

Shizuku tilted her head to the side. "I don't know. Is it that important?"

"The location of this meeting will most likely dictate the content of the conversation," Kurapika explained, a little irked that he was the one who had to explain this. Perhaps, the Emperor should hire some better help. "For example, if he is meeting us in his quarters, then the content will most likely be more intimate and personal. If it is in his office, then it will be more formal."

"Huh," the bespectacled woman said, "I never thought of it that way. Did you study a lot for this?"

"Pardon?"

"Did you study a lot for the consortship?" she repeated.

Kurapika grit his teeth and averted his eyes, not sure how to respond. If he answered honestly, then all his following actions might seem programmed. If he lied, then he's come off as uninvested in the whole ordeal. "A little."

"A lot, then," she concluded in that same breezy tone. "Your application said your parents died."

"Yes."

"That's sad. Emperor Kuroro is an orphan as well, so you'll get along."

Indeed, nothing said romance like dead parents.

The woman pursed her lips, roaming the scroll for answers. "Do you prefer silk or satin?"

"Pardon me?"

"The Emperor's buying you a new wardrobe. He wants to know what sorts of fabric you prefer," Shizuku explained, eyes flitting across the scroll.

Kurapika blinked. "Why would I need a new wardrobe?"

"Because, you're royalty now."

His body constricted as if his muscles had been shocked. "When you said the Emperor would be meeting us separately, I'd assumed this was another interview -"

"It is."

"Then, why?" Would he waste money on someone who might be sent home the same day?

"You've already been chosen," Shizuku explained, adjusting her glasses. "This is just a formality."

"Oh," he breathed, and the small, selfish hope that his status as a consort hadn't been confirmed yet vanished, replaced by that same resignedness he approached the rest of his life with. The carriage lurched forward, striking a large stone on the road.

"You sound disappointed."

His head shot up again, eyes wide. "No! Not at all! I'm just surprised, that's all."

"You're surprised?" she asked. "I thought you were the smart one?"

"The smart one?"

Shizuku had already turned to the man, who had taken the reigns before they departed. "Franklin, how much further?"

"We're here."

Kurapika peered through the windows of the carriage. The Imperial Palace was as magnificent as you'd imagine, painted red and green and a silvery blue, its curved, tiled rooftop glinting in the morning sun. If Kurapika had been a lesser being, he would've gaped at it. The stone gates stretched on for what looked like miles, then circled around, caging everything inside them. Black-clad guards stood atop the walls and in the arched entrances. In the center, Kurapika could see the green roof of the throne hall rising above the gate and imagined nights gazing at the glow it gave off. Years ago, a younger Kurapika would've eaten it up. Now, it was just a stark reminder that his enemy lived in luxury, his greedy hands stained with the blood of Kurapika's parents and countless others.

"Your room is behind the Emperor's quarters," Franklin said, helping Shizuku out of the carriage. "Phinks will take you -"

The monstrous man peered over Kurapika's shoulder, that same neutral expression on his face. He followed his gaze. There, Shalnark trekked to them down the cement path with a bright smile on his boyish face and a bounce to his being.

"Shal, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, just popping in for a visit," the familiar, cheerful man chirped, tossing an arm around Kurapika's shoulders. Kurapika tried not to squirm in response. "Phinks is feeling a bit under the weather. Don't worry, Franky, I'll take it from here!"

And Kurapika was dragged past the gates by an over-excited Shalnark.

"You're going to love your new home, Kwon-daegam!" he chatted. They walked down white stone tiles, passing by the famed throne hall with its white porch and blue walls. "It's got a ton of books, and the bed is the most comfortable thing ever. You're gonna have the best sleep ever in there. And the view is right over the Lin Garden, which is also the Emperor's favorite place to stay, so you're obviously already at the top of the consorts!"

"That's nice," Kurapika replied, though inside strange, nervous energy constricted his chest. Already? Sure, Kurapika had planned on making it to the top from the start, but not so quickly. Too much attention would make it hard to move around, he'd be too busy evading everyone's suspicious gazes to move along with the plan. He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes. He focused on the landscapes they passed. He glimpsed the Ilsalyang Pavilion on the glimmering Gyeoljeong Lake. He counted ten of its forty-eight stone pillars and failed to admire the care that had went into every detail of the wooden balustrades. They passed Wieom Hall, the Emperor's quarters: a low, long building with a tiled roof and open windows framed with currant wood. Kurapika wondered how often he left the windows open.

"Nervous?" Shalnark asked, crossing his arms and giving him a warm smile.

"Unfortunately."

Shalnark shrugged. "Nothing we can do. C'mon, the consorts' quarters is just around the corner. We'll head to your room and get you some tea. Maybe, that'll calm you down."

"Oh, no," Kurapika insisted, a part of him annoyed at how easily he forgot this man was his enemy as well. "I couldn't impose. Besides, I work better under pressure."

Shalnark narrowed his eyes, and then a grin split his face. "Okay, I'll leave some tea for you to try later. Some raspberry white tea. It's our specialty, no one can be a true member of the palace without trying it out at least once."

"Well, I suppose if it's not too much trouble -"

Shalnark waved his hand. "It's not, it's not. The maids will be glad to see someone with such great taste!"

Kurapika relented. "Alright, then."

. . .

His room was actually a collection of rooms, three to be exact, with a large closet that held more clothes than he could ever wear. Each wall had been swathed the color of coconut macaroons and covered in murals. In the living room, the murals depicted historical events, as if the consort who lived in it needed to be briefed on the history of the country. Kurapika caught the tale of Ryusei's founding - the first King and the Phoenix that led to his triumph over the Kakin Kingdom's encroaching forces - as well as Ryusei's subsequent victories and defeats under the same Kakin Kingdom, as if they couldn't end the vicious cycle of war. Today, the two countries stood united, but the scars from the last war (a mere fifty years ago) still remained. His bedroom told a less tragic story of camellia trees and white roses.

Kurapika brushed his fingers against a lacquered table depicting the bloom of a jasmine flower in what he called the living room. The table stood opposite the wooden screen door and was partially enclosed by red cushions and a single scarlet chaise lounge. He scanned the titles on a large dragon sculpted shelf brimming with books. His bedroom was another problem altogether.

"Nice, isn't it?" Shalnark commented, hands on his hips. "He really went all out with this one. I mean, look at all these flowers!"

Ah, yes, the flowers. Stargazer lilies, regular lilies, spider lilies. This man seemed to be rather fond of lilies. And yes, they smelled just wonderful. Goddammit, what kind of monster was this guy?

"Lady Aiko just went in for her interview," Shalnark explained, "Neon goes in after her, so you'll probably be called in about fifteen minutes. These things usually don't take too long."

That was reassuring.

"I'll come get you when it's your turn," Shalnark added, waving goodbye as he walked out of the room. "Make yourself at home."

They kept saying that. Kurapika wondered why. Was it just to lure him into a false sense of security? He'd have to remain vigilant.

Now, what books had this man gotten for him? He might consider giving him a quick and painless death if they were interesting enough.

. . .

Shalnark returned after precisely fifteen minutes, a grin fastened to his face as usual.

"C'mon, Kurapika, it's time for your first date with the Emperor!" Shalnark called, cheerfully.

The young consort-to-be sighed, shutting the book closed. It was alright, he supposed. He'd let the Emperor off with a quick and simple poisoning.

"Please don't call it a date," Kurapika said, standing up and flattening out any creases that might've made their way into his green hanbok.

"Why not? You're two reasonably attractive who will be spending the next few minutes alone together, learning about the other and talking about your future."

"It's more of a business proposal."

Shalnark tsked, "so pessimistic. Don't worry. The Emperor is a nice guy. Easy-going, easy to get along with, easy to be in love with. You'll fall for him in no time."

Kurapika almost laughed at that. Love? Oh, the deities would sooner raise his parents from the dead. No, really, the deities would have to raise his parents from the dead to create even the slightest chance of that happening.

Shalnark didn't say anything more, choosing to simply lead him back towards the Emperor's Quarters. Past chattering maids and two women Kurapika could only guess were the other consorts based on their expensive silken clothing. Shalnark dragged him by the Lin Garden, a gorgeous view indeed. Three small ponds laid in a triangle, with three red gazebos assigned to each of them. Leaves of green, red, orange and purple claimed his view, below them, patches of roses and lilies flourished. Off to the side, was a marble fountain. Shalnark took him back around the building.

"This is just the scenic route, by the way," Shalnark announced. "The shortcut is just a minute, so don't worry, you won't have to get through all this every time you want to see your lover at work." He winked, and Kurapika's soul died a little. But that was normal, so he didn't worry too much.

The Emperor's Quarters came back into view. They passed two blue maids on their way up the pale stone steps. The doors had already been slid aside, but four guards were perched there, eyes vigilant. Kurapika eyes the bushes surrounding the building and was made certain that more watchdogs hid in them. One look at Shalnark, though, and they were able to pass without a fuss into the soft light. Copper squares formed a vivid ceiling, below which flew phoenixes carved into wooden beams. More guards stood in front of three doors, and though Kurapika couldn't see anything through the screen, he could hear the interior humming with energy.

Kurapika was dragged to the door on the left, and then past creme walls with jeweled mosaics and metal sconces and workers who looked ready to run them over if they didn't step aside. Shalnark laughed, saying they all took their jobs seriously. The Emperor's Quarters contained fourteen rooms if Kurapika remembered correctly. Each one of them was closed.

They came to a stop, suddenly, by a room in the right wing of the building. Kurapika scowled inwardly at the fact that Shalnark had once again taken him the long way around.

Shalnark pushed him once towards the door, the way Leorio had, and promptly vanished. The consort-to-be bit his lip, his heart beating hard in his chest. This was the man who'd killed his parents, who would be his first victim, his first real lover, not one of the clients Mother gave him. Such a mess of titles and they hadn't even met once.

Kurapika went through his routine again. Eyes shut, breathe in, breathe out, eyes open. His fingers clenched the carved handles in the door, and then all at once, the door slid open, and he was met with a young man, sitting and looking far too normal to be the monster Kurapika had conjured up in his mind. He had no wickedness in his face, no evident greed in the way he held himself, and his eyes were large and silver.

"I was wondering when you'd come in," he said, without glancing up from the scroll spread across his desk.

Kurapika narrowed his eyes at the young man in front of him, certain he'd uncover some dastardly evil within the curve of his lips, within those big, slightly downturned eyes. He was clothed in a simple, black gwanbok, the attire most government officials wore these days, though Kurapika could tell it wasn't as intricate or layered. The cloth contrasted his skin beautifully. Not that Kurapika really cared.

The Emperor glanced up at him. "Like what you see? Good, mutual attraction will benefit both of us in this relationship. Sit down, Kurapika."

He raised an eyebrow. No honorifics? How crude.

Kurapika accepted his offer, sitting down across from the man.

"Is everything to your liking?" the Emperor asked, leaning his cheek against the palm of his hand, a fake sheen of fondness on his face. Kurapika could see straight through it, into the distant look in his eyes. His image was reaffirmed. This man was a monster. And Kurapika was going to have to pretend to love him for the coming months, years even.

Kurapika nodded, politely. "You've done a lot to make us all feel welcome. Thank you."

The Emperor smiled, reaching out to move some of his blond hair behind one pale ear. "I'm glad. How about the books?"

"You exceeded my expectations," Kurapika replied, not even flinching at the movement. He'd faced much more forward advances before. "Though, I must say 'Wangjaui Nolae' was an interesting choice. Should I perceive it as a threat?"

The Emperor chuckled, hand caressing his cheek gently, but his eyes remained as calculating and detached as ever. "I suppose that depends. Is there something our little Prince has been hiding?"

"I'm not actually a prince," Kurapika whispered, teasingly, his hand enveloping the Emperor's. "Though, I suppose we could change that if your majesty was as bold with your consorts as you are with your laws."

The hand withdrew, and the Emperor laughed, the sound genuine this time. "My, aren't you the charmer."

"I could say the same thing about you," Kurapika chuckled. "I dare say my heart skipped a beat."

The two of them sat in silence for a few seconds, the Emperor taking in his face, Kurapika trying his best to keep his innermost thoughts at bay. 'Kill him. Kill him. Kill him,' they chanted, and it took all of Kurapika's self-restraint not to lash out. His hands clenched on his lap, itching to circle around his neck and squeeze until the Emperor's last breath leaves him.

None of the murderous thoughts came to the surface, as Kurapika artfully maintained that coquettish look on his face. His eyes looking up through thick lashes, his petal-pink lips pulled into a teasing little smile, his face flushed from the bit of laughter he'd let slip.

Kurapika glanced away, and in that moment, he knew he'd made a mistake. For a second, his mask shattered, and his feelings flashed across his face in one fell swoop. He struggled to pick up the pieces, and a few seconds later, the mask was back on, and if the Emperor noticed, he didn't let it show.

"Well," the Emperor sighed, eyes still fixated on Kurapika, "I'll see you around, my little Prince."

Kurapika took his hand and kissed it in parting, glancing up at the man, who simply wore a small smile on his face. "I certainly hope so."

"You are far too casual about this," the man chuckled. "I thought I was the one who had to be bold?"

Kurapika grinned. "I am said to be a very attentive partner."

"And a very intelligent one, I imagine," he replied. "Your views on the Lotus and Kuyan clans were quite insightful. I believe we'll do great things together."

"I think so, too." Let's start with your complete and utter destruction.

The man nodded once, and Kurapika gave him one last charming smile.

As soon as the door fell closed, Kurapika leaned against the cold panel of the wall and shivered in disgust. He needed to cleanse himself of that encounter.

"Kurapika-daegam!" a cheerful voice called. Shalnark strolled in from around the corner in his bright lime hanbok, and Kurapika quickly composed himself.

"I didn't know you'd be back to pick me up as well," Kurapika said, voice coming out a little harsher than he'd planned.

Shalnark didn't notice. "Of course, silly! What? Did you think I'd leave you here to fend for yourself? No way! You're one of the Emperor's consorts now, which means, you're also on the top of everyone's hit list."

"I doubt anyone knows about this yet."

"Oh, you'd be surprised." Shalnark's smile became subdued, making way for a much more natural expression. "Back before people even knew that he was the long-lost Crown Prince, the Emperor was targeted by assassins."

They could find him in some obscure location, but they couldn't finish the job? Amateurs.

"Well, c'mon," Shalnark said, cheerful once more, "your tea awaits. And your bath, too. Did I mention that the bathing area in your room is amazing! Seriously, best bath you'll ever have!"

"Yes, it seems everything here is amazing."

. . .

Kurapika sighed, as he fell back on the scarlet chaise. Shalnark wasn't lying. The lavatory here was incredible. He didn't remember the last time he'd felt so refreshed. Now, if only the bath water hadn't smelled so much like lilies. He's got enough of those here.

The lacquered table now had a jade tea set atop it: two small teacups and a tea kettle. His reflection bounced back at him across the surface of a rosy liquid. It smelled lovely. Or, at least, not like lilies. So, Kurapika decided it couldn't hurt. Clutching a new volume to his chest, this one red-bound, he sipped the tangy concoction. It stung a bit down his throat but calmed his nerves without a fuss. He broke open the novel, eyes drifting over the first lines.

He got halfway through a page before he started to drift off, his eyes drooping. The book fell from his open palm, settling in the small space on the chaise between Kurapika's abdomen and the back cushion. It was quite peaceful here, with the afternoon sun drifting through the two large windows behind him.

The people might be horrible, but their hospitality wasn't so bad, really.

. . .

Kuroro sighed, as he finished the last of the paperwork. His body had become stiff now, his joints screeching after being kept in this strict seiza position all day. His mind remained functioning, though even it was beginning to check out. That meeting at noon certainly took a lot out of him. Then again, this whole ruling business took a lot out of him in general.

He peered out the green-rimmed window in his office. The full moon hung low tonight, the stars dotted the sky. They weren't as clear as the ones back home, but they did well enough. Below them, the gardens and buildings of the palace glimmered, and Kuroro wished for a rickety cabin.

There came a knock on the door and Kuroro schooled his features, ready to tell whoever it might concern that he was not to be disturbed.

"Danchou!" Shalnark called. Kuroro's shoulders relaxed. His advisors needn't be subjected to his masks as often as the other palace personnel. "Kurapika didn't show up to dinner tonight! Can you bring him his food?"

Kurapika? Ah, right. His charming little Prince. A charming little Prince with a charming little secret. He wondered what he was hiding.

"And why can't one of the servants do it?"

"Because none of the servants skipped dinner as well?"

"I said I wasn't hungry," Kuroro rang back, cleaning the ink off his silver brush. Ah, even his eyes were sore.

"Oh, come on. Don't you want to have a romantic dinner with your husband?"

Kuroro considered. He could use this as an opportunity to gather information about the other man, to learn what made his dark eyes reflect such a twisted soul. There weren't many things that could pique Kuroro's interest enough to force a reaction. Human psychology was one of those things. Ever since he witnessed his mother's depression, and the way his own darkness seemed to writhe within him, and how his father acted as if he knew Kuroro's mind better than he did. Most psyches weren't worth examining, but every now and then.

The man stood and walked over to the door. Shalnark was planted on the other side with a silver tray of food in his hands. Kuroro seized it and gave him a suspicious look. Even more concerning than his little Prince was Shalnark's behavior.

"You seem strangely invested in this man."

Shalnark clasped his hands behind his back. "The only thing I'm invested in is your happiness, Danchou!"

Kuroro's brow furrowed, but he let it go, walking down the corridor and taking a left to the exit. Shalnark followed him until they reached the entrance to the consorts' quarters just a few steps north.

"I'll wait for you outside," Shal said, sitting down on the stone steps. Then, as if he were a magician, he pulled an orange out of his lime green sleeve and started to peel off its skin. Kuroro often worried that carelessness would get his advisor hurt someday, but he always put the troubling thought to rest. As long as they remained by his side, Kuroro would exhaust any resource to keep them alive.

Now, where was his little Prince's room? Toward the back, by the Lin Garden, his mother's old sleeping quarters before his father had made her Queen Consort and built her the now abandoned Yeon-in Palace. Kuroro hadn't touched this place since he was five, but now the memories returned like a long-forgotten tide. On one of the wall panels remained the slightest shadow of ink where he had once painted a picture of a Bulgae - a mythological dog beast forever caught in an endless pursuit of the sun and moon. Myths had been one of his favorite subjects back then.

He knocked twice on the door out of habit. No one answered, but that was nothing new.

"Kurapika," he called, as he made his way into the sweet-smelling room. He caught sight of him spread out across the chaise, and even Kuroro had to begrudgingly admit his serenity was rather adorable. Across his stomach pale fingers, like moonlight, splayed out, reaching for the book that had fallen to his side. His face tilted away, half of it hidden from view. Strands of golden hair spread over a red satin pillow and over his cheek. Golden hair that seemed so familiar now, though Kuroro could not place it.

Kuroro set the tray down on a table with an old tea set and ambled over to his consort's side. Absentmindedly, he pondered how Kurapika, this so-called perfect consort, would react to waking up to him?

"Kurapika," he called, quietly, sitting down on the chaise and weaving his hand through vaguely messy locks. How easily the motion came to him. It was almost frightening. "Wake up."

He stirred, his hand moving to take Kuroro's. Slowly, tired lids gave way to chestnut orbs, squinting at him. They widened in recognition, and Kurapika shot upright as if someone had brought a knife to his spine.

"Your Majesty," Kurapika said, voice just a bit nervous, just a bit too fearful. "Is everything alright?"

"You missed dinner," he said, gesturing to the tray, "so I thought we could share."

"Oh, of course," Kurapika replied, relieved now, and Kuroro felt triumphant. The man was already slipping up. "I guess I slept for longer than planned." The consort stood.

"Hmm," Kuroro said, bringing one of the teacups to his lips. Valerian root? Well-masked, certainly, but Kuroro was well-versed in poisons and sleeping agents. It was hard to get anything out of him. "It wasn't entirely your fault. The tea was drugged."

"What?" Kurapika asked, whirling around on his heel.

"You should be more careful. Shalnark might seem friendly, but he's a trickster first and foremost."

Kurapika's face contorted in anger for a second, before settling back into that calm facade. The darkness that writhed in Kuroro wanted to see more of that fury.

. End of Chapter .


Replies to Reviewers:

sarahmchugs: I love your username and I love you for commenting. I'm sooooooooooo glad you enjoyed it.

Nana: Your name reminds me of Nana the manga, so I accept your criticism. Yeah, I know a lot of people don't like the slow pacing of the Wolf King's Bride. I honestly kind of love it. Don't worry, tho, when I said I took inspiration from the manga, I meant that it inspired me to write something based on the Emperor-Consort relationship. As you can see, Kurapika's situation is a bit different. Nice to know you're willing to give it a chance!

Sweets Dreamer: HEY! Next chapter of Lions/Locking of the Heart comin' at you this Sunday. It's got some sad, and some happy, but mostly it's more KuroKura pining. Those dorks need to kiss and make up, pronto! Anyway, yay, I succeed at summaries! I should get a crown or something: Queen Choco of the Summaries. Leorio's got a fair shot this time, but he's gonna have to work for it. Machi is Kurapika's BFF in this fic (Shalnark is a strange sort of wingman, not exactly BFF). And Kurapika is a fabulous actor, someone should make an AU about actor Kurapika (oh wait, that person might be me). Thanks for reviewing! See you soon!

Lostdog200: I'm so glad you think so! It's something I've always wanted to read, but no one else ever got to making, so I just made it myself. That's how most of my writing is born. Thank you so much for reviewing!

BloodyRose30: Your prayers have been answered! I'm here to give you chapter two! Chapter three will be here soon, promise! Thank you for reviewing!

Wo: Hi! I'm glad you find it interesting! Thanks for reviewing : )

Unreadable0: Hey! I'm glad you're liking it so far. I hope I can do the concept justice. I don't actually know that much about the Joseon Dynasty, so there are probably a ton of inaccuracies everywhere. I hope this new interaction between Leorio and Kurapika made you even sadder, because it's the last one for a while. And I hope my inspiration doesn't leave me either. I've got a pretty good idea of where I'll take this story.

End of Replies