Chapter Text
Song Mingi was a novel reader. He loved to read romance fantasy novels. It was his favourite pastime.
Recently he's into this novel called Crimson Chains. It's pretty good. It follows a female lead, who along with male lead and a priest who's a cannon fodder defeat the antagonist.
Although the prince, who was somewhat of a mini antagonist has a sad end too.
Mingi remembers, he was sipping coffee in his room, lamenting the tragic fate of the prince, Yunho who was hated, rightfully so because he was somewhat twisted.
Perhaps the author had made him like that so the readers would hate him because Mingi found lots of plot holes in it. Such as the sudden personality change of nice to murderous for no reason at all.
He took a sip of his coffee, while sitting on the sofa in his living room. And the next second.
Mingi woke up wearing flowing white robes, his hands stained with dirt and incense and a book in one hand. And in middle of a damn battleground, although it had just ended. He was being dragged in chains to somewhere, and Mingi doesn't know what's going on.
Mingi didn't know how this happened, did the caffeine killed him? Maybe he died of heart attack
--
A one dragging him by the chain said to the other guy,
"Why does he favours this Priest Min so much"
Oh.
Him being dragged in chains wasn't the problem now, the problem was now he was the Priest Min, that very cannon fodder who's supposed to die in middle of the story.
Did he get transmigrated? Mingi never thought it was real, but his reality right now clearly tells him otherwise.
Is he dead then? Mingi wondered. Because that means the story is in shambles, the priest hasn't even helped the female lead yet.
The war had been the result of the late tyrant's dying wish. To concur a neighbouring kingdom at all cost.
Priest Min who died was the gentle, devout soul who prayed for peace and cursed the prince and the tyrant behind locked temple doors as he defended it in his last moments.
And currently now, Mingi was hostage of the antagonist Crown Prince. Mingi had gathered that much as he was being dragged by the two very chatty enemy guards.
And.. Mingi's heart ached, for some reason. It's like the Priest's emotions had transcended into him. Well great, now he was a bitter soul.
Mingi was led inside a grand cell that looked like a pretty room somehow even with the monotonous bricks, if only it didn't had metal bars on the side.
Still Mingi didn't mind it, he had a table, a chair, nice tea, a bed and a book to read.
That book was Priest's journal, Mingi had it in his hand when he was being escorted by the guards.
Mingi saw the Crown Prince's face for the first time, it was in a passing. He was.. quite handsome. He would be a celebrity if he wasn't a novel character, Mingi thought.
---
A day had passed.
Mingi blinked against the blinding light, it was morning. He sat rigid on bed, robed in white and gold.
Mingi spent his day drinking tea, reading the journal and thinking about random things.
He was the prince’s hostage. And the prince would come often to check up on him.
Now he was here again. Standing outside the cold iron bars.
"You’re staring," Mingi said, not looking up from the book he was reading.
"I’m observing," came in prince’s voice, sharp, clear.
"That’s a fancy way of saying you’re being creepy."
Silence.
He glanced. Yunho stood in the doorway, hands behind his back, posture upright.
His face was unreadable, as it always was, sculpted, elegant, and cold enough to freeze the room.
Mingi lowered his gaze again to his book. Mingi felt strange. He was a reader, yet something in his heart made him pissed at the prince. Perhaps it's because he's possessing Priest Min's body.
The feeling felt like hatred.
Priest Min, probably hated the young prince. His home, his people, the temple where he was raised, all gone under imperial fire. And now he was captured by the son of that tyrant.
But Mingi didn't hate the crown prince
Because Mingi wasn't Priest Min.
He was Song Mingi
From Earth.
A dude who drank banana milk, played phone games in bed, stressed over exams and cries when watching Tinker Bell.
So no, he didn’t feel burning hatred. But he felt something else.
Pity.
Yunho was never the real villain. He was just a piece on the board, used and discarded.
The readers called him “cruel,” “boring,” “emotionless.”...
They were right of course since the prince was twisted sometimes but Mingi saw it for what it was. The prince was lonely. Isolated. He never learnt how to stand alongside someone, he was only taught that others were below him.
The prince, unfortunately was another prisoner in gold-plated chains in the hands of the late tyrant.
Still, it didn’t make the awkward silences any less unbearable.
"You don’t need to check on me every hour," Mingi muttered.
"I’m ensuring you aren’t trying to escape." The prince reasoned.
Mingi laughed under his breath.
"Escape to where? You people turned my country to ash." Mingi didn't mean for it to come out so violently.
Yunho flinched slightly,
"I didn’t."
Yunho didn't, it was the orders of the dying emperor. The crown prince couldn't put an end to it even if he wished to do so.
Mingi just stared down, calming himself, the Priest's emotions are messing him up.
The real Priest Min would’ve spit venom at that. Maybe even tried to stab him with a hidden blade.
But Mingi... he just closed his eyes.
"I know," he said softly.
When he glanced at him again, Yunho was still watching.
Same distance. Same posture. Same unreadable gaze.
But there was something fragile in the air. A pause too long. A hesitation.
Like Yunho wanted to speak.
Or maybe... wanted to apologize.
Priest Min would've laughed at Mingi's thought.
"You can go now," Mingi said, turning away.
Footsteps retreated slowly. Then stopped.
A beat passed.
"You prayed for me once," Yunho said.
Mingi paused. A chapter flashed before his eyes. He remembers reading a page in the novel, a snippet of the crown prince's past.
"You healed my wounds when my hands were shaking." The prince's voice was firm.
That wasn’t him.
That was Priest Min.
The real one.
Who had been kind enough to help this misled prince once.
Mingi spoke . "Well. He must’ve been a nicer person than me."
Another pause.
"No," Yunho said quietly.
"You’re the same." He said with conviction.
Mingi wanted to laugh at that.
If only the prince knew.
Then the prince was gone, leaving Mingi alone in his grand cell with his thoughts.
Mingi poured himself a cup of cold tea.
This wasn’t how the story went, the prince shouldn't have any guilt. And nor should've priest min died now.. and especially he shouldn't be able to feel his emotions, since that's how the transmigrations worked right?
But here he was, Mingi felt conflicted. The one who Yunho was thankful for was Priest Min and the one who hated him the most was also Priest Min. Mingi was a spectator who was forced into this mess with the weight of emotions the priest left behind in Mingi's care.
Mingi sighed and picked up the tea cup, focusing his attention to the journal.
---
In this grand cell, a little mouse came in often. Mingi named her Rami, her eyes were big and shiny. A contrast for the reality the little mouse lived in.
Mingi had slowly come to talk to this little creature, and Rami was surprisingly friendly.
"Rami, I think your prince is obsessed with me" Mingi give Rami his finger, she looked at him confused, holding it with her mouse paws gently.
There was a faint clatter of boots coming closer.
Right on time.
"You really need a hobby" Mingi looked up from the tiny mouse to Yunho, retracting his hand away from Rami, he looked tired, eyebags in plain sight.
"You didn't sleep last night?" Mingi asked.
"Worried?" Yunho asked. Mingi wasn't familiar enough to know whether it was teasing or genuine.
"I never have" Mingi replied.
"... You did once"
"Wasn't me" Mingi shut him down quickly.
"Then who?" Yunho asked
"Priest Min"
"But.. aren't you priest min?" Yunho was confused.
"If he was here, he would've stabbed you as soon as he would've seen you"
"Is this a threat? You know I could hang you for this"
"If you wanted to kill me, you would've done so"
Silence.
Sound of Rami's little feet tapping against the floor were heard.
Mingi gave Rami a crumb of bread from the stale bread he ate this morning.
Yunho spoke, ending the silence.
"What do you mean priest Min isn't you? Did I hostage the wrong person?...no, the face is the same" Yunho thought out loud.
"No, he was me, he died and I came here. Haven't you heard of such things?" Mingi told him truthfully so he would stop weeping about their shared past that Mingi didn't know about.
Yunho shook his head.
"It's a priest thing, you wouldn't know" Mingi lied.
Yunho nodded.. processing the fact Priest Min is dead. He was silent for a minute, as if mourning him.
"What's your name if you're not.. priest min"
"Song Mingi"
Yunho's lips moved, as if testing how his name sounds from his lips.
"... You'll be out of here tomorrow "
Mingi was genuinely surprised, he had never expected such kindness from someone like him.
"And where would I live? Min's homeland is destroyed"
"I-... I'll arrange a place for you"
"Would you look at that," Mingi muttered, scratching behind Rami's ear with his finger.
"The tyrant's son is still kind." He said to the little grey mouse.
Yunho didn't respond.
He stood there like a statue, as if kindness was a crime and he'd just confessed to it.
Mingi glanced up. "You look like you're about to regret it."
"I don’t," Yunho said quickly. Too quickly. "I just… didn’t think you’d accept."
"Did I say I did?" Mingi raised a brow, he loved to see the prince being on the edge of his nerves.
That seemed to throw Yunho off. His hands clenched behind his back, fingers twitching.
Mingi looked back at the little mouse, Rami nibbling on a crumb, the only creature in the room that didn’t carry centuries of grief in its eyes.
"You’re different now," Yunho said finally.
"It's because I am. I told you. Priest Min is dead."
"You smile more." The prince made a note.
"Tragic, isn’t it?" Mingi gave a snide remark
"And you call me your prince when you talk to the mouse."
"...What?"
"I heard you, 'Your prince.'"
Mingi sighed, tipping his head back against the wall. Technically he called him Rami's prince but whatever.
"Rami deserves drama in her life."
"Then why do you say it like a fact?"
"Because she’s nosy."
"And you’re not denying it."
"Would you believe me if I did?"
"No," Yunho admitted.
Mingi picked the small grey mouse up in his palm.
"I’ll send a change of clothes for you in the morning," Yunho said. "And someone to escort you."
"I’ll take Rami with me."
"...You can take the mouse."
"She has a name."
Yunho looked down at the small creature sitting in Mingi’s palm.
"...Rami," he said softly. Then looked at Mingi again.
"Song Mingi."
"Yes, Your Highness?" Mingi said, tone dripping with sarcasm.
But Yunho didn’t react to the mockery. He just stared.
"You shouldn’t smile like that if you don’t want people to follow you."
Mingi blinked.
What did he mean?
Then Yunho turned and left.
Rami twitched her nose.
Mingi exhaled. "Don’t look at me like that. You started it." He accused the poor mouse that was just minding her own business.
---
Mingi didn't know where he would be living when Yunho said he arranged a place. He certainly didn't think it would be Yunho's palace itself.
The palace was too clean.
That was the first thing Mingi noticed as he stepped past the gates—escorted not by an actual guard, but one and only, the crown prince himself.
He walked half a step behind, saying nothing. Servants were standing in two rows, awaiting the prince's return as they bowed deeply, eyes flicking between the prisoner in soft while silken robes and the prince who shouldn’t be walking with him.
Mingi tried not to look at them.
They passed courtyards blooming with white orchids, their petals like spilled ink. Statues of old emperors lined the path, so called-heroes carved in gold and arrogance.
Mingi resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at one.
“You’re glaring at my grandfather’s face,” Yunho said.
“Can he feel it from the grave?”
“Probably.”
“Good.”
Yunho snorted quietly.
It was the closest thing to a laugh Mingi had heard from him.
---
The room they gave him was too large. Cold marble tiles, silk curtains, a wide balcony overlooking the garden and somewhat of Yunho's empire, and pillows that smelled faintly of rosewood.
Mingi stood in the center, unmoving. “This is unnecessary.”
“You’re technically a guest,” Yunho said from the doorway.
“Aren’t I a prisoner?”
“If you were… you said it yourself. If I wanted you dead, I would’ve done it.”
Mingi turned. “That line’s starting to sound romantic.”
That startled Yunho for half a second. His lips twitched. Then stilled, back to being solemn again.
“I’ll have your papers prepared in a week. Under the name of Song Mingi. Official records. No one will question it.”
“And until then, I’m supposed to be priest Min?”
Yunho nodded.
“What about the actual temple folk? Not that his temple isn't in ruins but what about those who have met him?”
Ouch, Mingi realised that passive aggressiveness wasn't really necessary.
“...They believe you lost your memory during the kingdom’s fall,” Yunho said calmly nonetheless.
“The high priest vouched for you. Said trauma reshapes the mind.”
Mingi blinked. “…You lied?”
“I told a story,” Yunho replied. “They were willing to believe it.”
“And i was thinking I’m dramatic.” Mingi muttered under his breath.
Yunho stepped further into the room, hands clasped. “You’ll stay here. No one will disturb you unless necessary. Your meals will be sent. If you need something, tell the steward, Martha.”
“Am I allowed outside?”
“Yes. But not outside the palace walls. Not yet.”
Mingi studied him. “You’re really doing all this for a ghost.”
“I’m doing this for you.”
That was true, Yunho wouldn't grant such freedom to his Priest Min, afterall when Yunho didn't know about his death. Mingi was kept in a cell.
Perhaps Priest Min would've been forced to stay in that cell, with Yunho begging for forgiveness, offering penance for the sins of his father.
Yunho would've showered Priest Min with every comfort, every luxury, if it meant absolution.
Twisted in a way, but Mingi could only guess, afterall Priest Min wasn't present for Mingi to test out this fantasy for him.
Priest Min was dead after all.
That hung in the air too long. Yunho was indeed doing this all for Mingi. Not for Priest Min.
Mingi looked away, suddenly aware of the weight of it. The prince. The silence. The luxury he didn’t ask for.
“…Thank you,” he said softly.
Yunho didn’t respond. He stared for a long moment, then quietly turned and left, the door turning shut behind him.
---
Night eventually fell, Mingi had bathed for the first time after coming into this novel. It felt refreshing. Mingi made Rami bath too, surprisingly she loved cleaning herself.
Though Mingi still didn't had much clothing options, a formal priest suit or a silky garment that looked like a nightgown. Mingi preferred the latter to sleep in.
The balcony was wide, it had a chair too. Mingi was leaning on the railings with Rami perched on his shoulder, the city below sparkling.
“I think your prince is broken,” he whispered to the mouse.
The crown prince really gave him a place to live.. all for nothing.
She nuzzled into his neck.
He exhaled. “And I might be, too.”
---
The night had passed, morning sunlight was sleeping through the curtains.
Mingi woke up disoriented.
Not because of a nightmare, but because of the silence and warm sunshine. There were just linen sheets below him and the slow breathing of a city unaware that a prisoner in the name of a priest was sleeping in the palace.
He found breakfast set neatly on the table in the wide balcony, definitely too much for one person.
Tea still steaming, honey-drenched pastries, even a tiny bowl of chopped fruit on the side. For Rami, probably.
Mingi felt somewhat warm from this unspoken care, whether it was from Martha or the crown prince himself.
---
He didn’t see Yunho that morning. Or the next or the week after that.
Days passed by, and on another usual morning with Rami hogging the bowl of fruits while Mingi admired the view of the balcony in his chair with morning tea.
He expected no disturbance but a knock, and then, the steward, Martha arrived.
A tall middle aged woman in navy robes, posture rigid enough to scare even the statues.
Mingi respectfully felt like seeing the human version of Roz from Monsters Inc.
“Your schedule, sir,” she said, handing over a scroll with perfectly inked calligraphy.
“You are to attend a court gathering in three days. The prince insisted you be informed early.”
The scroll had the crown prince’s sign of approval.
“Why am I invited to court?”
“You are… an advisor.”
“I’m a what!?”
The woman didn’t blink. “That is what the official papers say as your new identity.”
Mingi blinked twice for the both of them.
“Advisor to what exactly? The decor? I have opinions on vases.” Mingi pointed at a base in his room that looked like it belonged to Picasso.
The steward stared. “To the Crown Prince.”
Mingi pressed his lips together.
Of course. Mingi was an idiot to think Yunho would give him an identity that would let him live independently away in some Village.
“Any further updates about your position will be discussed by his highness in person.” With that, Martha left.
Discussed in person? What a joke. That man didn't even have time to meet him since he left the prison.