Kyong walked in first. It was a medium-sized apartment with smooth wooden floors and gold door nobs in every entryway needing a door. Marble-covered bench tops flush in the middle of the kitchen… If you could call it that. It was more like a dining room and living area in one. Walking over to the large white leather couch that backed onto three large windows standing side by side and giving a view of outside, Kyong dropped his bag onto the floor, slumping into it, “This could do nicely.” His eyes continued to scan the room. A bottle of cognac caught his attention, “Pour me a glass?” He said to Courtier, who was standing in close proximity. He did as Kyong asked, removing the bottle from the decorative silver trolley that it sat on, accompanied by two glasses, poured one and handed it to Kyong and poured one for himself as well. “Who stays here usually?” Kyong continued as he swirled the amber liquid around in the glass before lifting it to his lips.

“Your father sometimes, your bother…” Courtier suddenly became tight-lipped like he had given away too much.

Kyong looked up at him. “My father? And Heong? What would he do here?” 

Courtier swirled his glass, contemplating what to reveal. “Your father sometimes brings Heong along to meetings with other royals and governments, some of which take place here.”

Kyong’s head jerked back, “Why him but not me?”

Courtier sighed “Your father is training him up in case you can’t take on the role. He needs him to be ready.”

“But I don’t need to be ready?” 

“You’re not ready to ready yet.”

”How does that make sense?”

“You will understand one day. Hopefully one day soon.” Courtier slumped into the chair next to Kyong, swallowing the entirety of the drink left in his glass.

Kyong said nothing, but instead breathed in and pulled his phone out of his pocket, realising he should text Louella, Hey, Lou. he sent the message and got a reply straight away. 

Where have you been?! Are you okay?

Yes, I’m okay.

Explain yourself!

He sighed. I just arrived at the apartment. It's… small. But nice.

You just arrived? I thought you had been there for days?

What are you even doing awake?

It’s 10 am. Don’t change the subject…

“You’re going to have to tell her at some point,” Courtier mumbled, and Kyong had forgotten he was there.

“Were you reading over my shoulder?” He jerked his neck to glare.

“Always.” He said seriously. “I have to make sure you're not getting yourself into trouble.”

“Hey.” Kyong started but realised Courtier was right to do so. Especially now, and let it go. 

I didn’t want you to worry. You know how bad I am at goodbyes. He sent and put his phone upside down on the couch.

“So what happens from here?” Kyong asked, absentmindedly, eyes searching the room. 

“Well, once your settled in here, say by tomorrow? We will head over to the school and get you enrolled.”

“I’m not enrolled?”

“It’s done differantly here, and we don’t want any special treatment. Your sort of flying under the radar here. We’d prefer it if they just thought you were just like anyone else from the area.”

Kyong breathed deep. He was far out of his comfort zone and he hadn’t even started at the school yet. 

“Do you want any food?” Courtier gestured to the kitchen. 

“I am still full from what I ate on the plane.” Kyong said, before coming to the realisation that he didn’t know how to cook and he didn’t see any maids here, ready to cook for him. “Who is going to cook for me?”

“If you need any food, you can order it from room service.” Courtier walked over to the kitchen and pulled open a drawer. From it, he pulled a laminated menu. “The number will be on the top here. You should get some rest.” His own eyes were tired and swollen.

“I think I’l stay up a little longer.” Kyong rubbed at his own tired eyes, refusing to let himself sleep just yet.” 

Courtier gave him one long soulful stare before announcing his retirement to bed, “I’m taking that room.” He pointed a thumb behind him befind walking backward and disappearing into the door.

Kyong sunk into his seat, picking up his phone again. How could he make it up to Louella? How could he even explain what was going on inside his mind right now? He wanted to fill her in on everything - the anxiousness, the homesickness, the knot in his stomach, the tears that was stinging his eyes, threatening to fall heavily and probably would when his head got to hit the pillow, the longing to be back with his best friend and have her hug his tight, the realisation that even though he would never admit it, he wanted to be back with his family and the realisation of how far he was, just proved that nothing was more important than family. But instead, he picked up his phone and typed, “I will call you tomorrow.”

It was late and Kyong finally decided that he needed to sleep. He dragged his duffel into a spare room and pushed open the door dropping it to the floor. He reached for the light switch in the darkness and when it flickered on, his eyes fell onto a clean, simple room. A double bed mattress, a single empty vase centred on an empty bedside table and a simplistic piece of art on the wall. If this wasn’t just nailing the last pin into the coffin that was his life…