the coming of spring ushers in so much.

"Damn bastards." The king enters the apothecary with a complaint on his lips, the curses as familiar as the scowl that worries his handsome features.

You stir the steaming concoction in your pot with a light smile. "Are the birds waking you too early in the morning again?" You watch him walk around to your side of the table. "Shall I scold them, jeonha?" You tease, rewarded when his mouth tightens with barely withheld amusement.

Letting the ladle drop to the table, you turn to face your king, excited to see him even in this weary state. He finds your hand with his own and weaves your fingers together, letting you both rest against the wooden furniture. His thumb traces the inner crook of your index, smoothing the slight wrinkles in repetitive, soothing swipes.

"It's the ministers again," he says.

"They are still refusing to settle down?"

"Yes. Yes," the king repeats on a sigh. "Even though I expected it, it's still an incredible pain."

"They want their pay."

He scoffs. "They want their money even as the country's people go to hell. Who will pay the taxes then? Idiots can't even think that far."

"They don't even see them as people." Your limbs tense, brow pulling in as some anger twists in your stomach. "Please tell me some of the ministers remain on your side. Minister Lee, at least?"

"He's been helpful. Minister Hak too, with a few others. Though I suspect a few more of them are beginning to understand my point of view. That, or they don't wish to argue with me any longer." The king squeezes your hand. "Don't worry. We have issued a decree to heavily lower the fees for this month, at the very least. The landlords across the land have been told to do the same, and that they will be recompensed at a later time."

"How will you do that?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. But I also don't quite care. All that matters to me now... All that matters is getting all our people through this winter even if I have to break into yangban storehouses and distribute the grain myself."

Those words pull a smile to your lips as warmth spreads in your heart.

You're still not completely used to hearing him say such things, such words that fill you with faith. But in the past month he has more than proven to you and the entire court that he is no longer the king he was only a year ago. His priorities have shifted from trying to walk in his father's shoes and appease those around him. Now, he is trying to carve his own way. Forage ahead with what he believes is right, even if it means fighting with those meant to help him.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean forward and press a small kiss to his cheek. It takes him by surprise, his eyes widening before he exhales a low, rumbling chuckle. Then he draws you in completely, body flush against him so he can rest his chin on your shoulder. Caught between his robes, you hug him back with palms flat over the silk.

"Maybe with these changes, the harvest gods will be kind this year," he murmurs.

The floods that devastated the crops for the last few years must remain cumbersome on his mind. Not without reason, for natural disasters are said to be the fault of a king's poor leadership.

"They can punish me, but not my people. Not for my mistakes."

"We'll have a good year," you say firmly. "I know it."

He sighs. Turns his head. You feel a quiet, soft kiss on your neck that feels much like gratitude before he straightens up again.

"I have to go back for another meeting."

You nod, stepping back, letting him go. "I'm surprised Eunuch Kim let you slip away in the middle of the day in the first place."

Yoongi rolls his eyes. "He doesn't know. I just... had to take a break."

"Well, I'm glad you came here, jeonha."

"Me too," he replies, immediately, and your heart melts just a tiny bit more. "I will see you later tonight. Do not forget to eat."

You hum an affirmative noise, excited for the quiet, intimate birthday celebration you suggested since he decided to forgo the usual banquet this year. He gives your hand one last longing squeeze before slowly, and reluctantly, taking his leave.