#anyway be kind this is jjst wine inspired ramblings

[butsobeautiful]

You could be the king, but watch the queen conquer.

Genre: drabble, alternate history.

Inspired by Daechwita music video and influenced by wine inspired research on Empress Myeongseong

Pairing: min yoongi/reader; min yoongi/unnamed female protagonist

1.6k words

The king was dead. Despite one’s personal opinion of the king, the people of the Joseon dynasty, regardless of class, were shocked. At his own wedding, the king had been murdered. A man entered the temple, parading as a servant, and stabbed him before the king could make his appearance.

The Usurper, the people called him in hushed voices. The bride-to-be looked at him with stoic gratitude. It was no secret the current king still had the mentality of a naïve prince. The woman had no qualms with the duties being a queen and a wife entailed; rather, the husband was the main problem. She had no interest in the king. He had been ruling for six moons, and his reign promised little to his people and his legacy. With Japan looming in the distance, the entire nation watched their king with trepidation.

And then, they watched his funeral rights. The Usurper came from the Yeoheung Min clan, a respectable aristocratic house. The Min bastard surprised everyone. Min Yoongi murdered the king on the day of his wedding.

He did it to prove he is worthy, some gossiped. Others claimed it was an old rivalry between himself and the king. Only Yoongi knew the truth, and he did not deign to share his reasoning with anyone in the court.

The dead king’s bride-to-be did not fear for her life. Once her eyes met the Usurper’s, instead of the king’s, her mind began to plan. While perhaps not renowned for her beauty—though she was by no means unattractive—the bride’s near infamy stemmed from her intellect and wit. Her father had no sons, but that did not deter her from learning the responsibilities of a man. When she saw the blood-stained blade held steady in Yoongi’s practiced hand, she neither screamed nor cried.

“Release your blade, my king,” she announced, while bowing to the floor. “It would be a discredit if you did not seize the opportunity at hand. The bride of your enemy is a spoil of war for your taking.” The words were biting, and made the Usurper—Yoongi—halt in his tracks.

His eyes widened, the scar over his right eye threatening to inhibit his expression. The woman before him was bowing with her head upon the ground in her wedding outfit. This, to say the least, had not been a part of Yoongi’s personal mission whatsoever. The absurdity of the situation, combined with the flustering adrenaline of assassination, caused him to laugh out loud.

The woman tensed, but said nothing. “Why would I want the wife of my enemy?”

At that, her head shot up. “My hand was promised, but the ceremony was incomplete. The marriage has not happened and will not happen, let alone be consummated.” Yoongi was mildly perturbed at her icy words and her lapse of proper behavior. However, he recognized her, and knew her reputation. He had only seen her in passing before, as noble families often mingle. She, however, was instructed to stay away from the bastard. She, however, would at least recognize his presence with direct eye contact and a slight nod of her head.

She knew him, of course. Thus, while her behavior was scandalous for their society, her status and intelligence granted her some level of immunity.

“I did not realize the wedding was... interrupted.” Yoongi lowered his sword. The guards in that room removed their hand from their weapon and relaxed at a pointed look from the former bride. She stood and faced Yoongi head on. The intensity of her person made it seem like she was staring you down eye-to-eye, regardless of any height differences.

“The fact remains. So, my king Min Yoongi, what shall you do with me?” She asked, her stomach flipping. While her face remained a placid calm, her nerves were screaming at her to run, her heart beating faster than it had ever. He pressed his lips together, looking her up and down. “You are a fine woman, and the power of your mind is no secret. I am sure you will figure something out. You are excused from my presence.”

Yoongi had little interest whatsoever in dealing with any of the old king’s business. He was starting afresh, he would change the nation for its people’s protection and prosperity.

“My king.” She bowed again, her eyes returning to his with reflecting levels of intensity as his. His mind saw her at the banquets, her eyes meeting his and refusing to break away. The other men and women would make eye contact and quickly turn to their friends and whisper or gossip, as if he were blind. “Allow me to impart my advice.” Yoongi’s face scrunched up, he wanted anything but advice. She narrowed her eyes and pushed onward.

“The kingdom will be in chaos if you are not prepared to manage the current system we have. Whether you keep to the status quo or completely overthrow our current form of governance is up to you. However, as it stands, you need loyal advisors. For every person who despised the king, there is someone who is loyal. Their loyalty may solely be based upon wages, but they will all resist you—at first. Furthermore, you need an heir as soon as physically possible. This will secure your throne claim and legacy.”

“Why are you helping me? Why have you never treated me for what I am? You never treated me like a bastard and now you refuse to treat me as the murderer of your husband-to-be and king.” Yoongi’s defenses were elevated to extremes.

A smile ghosted upon her face. “You’re like me. Everyone underestimates your abilities. You are a bastard. I am a woman. You are stronger than the majority of men with proud and strong bloodlines. I am smarter than those same men.” She shrugged, softly. Yoongi suddenly returned her slight smile. “It would be dishonorable to treat you as the spoils of war, my lady. Should you so choose, my reign needs a queen, and I could ask of no better woman than the one before me.”

It had been ages since the woman allowed surprise to affect her. Now, her mouth softly dropped open. She fully expected that the Usurper would take her and make her his wife. However, Yoongi’s appearance allowed her to hope. Whatever fears she had were no reflection of his character. Simply put, she was a woman, and promised property to the newly deceased king. Further shocking her, Yoongi bowed deeply at her feet.

Moved, she knelt and lifted his face to meet her sight. “I accept.”

“It could bring shame upon your family, upon yourself.”

She scoffed. “You’re the King now. They wouldn’t dare. And you should be well aware that their opinion can rot for all I care.”

Yoongi’s eyes softened at the woman before him as she set her jaw and her eyes burned with a deep conviction he had only been able to catch glimpses of in the past. Now she directed it at him.

She drank in his face as closely as he did to her. In this moment, the bastard felt like an equal more than claiming the title of king made him feel. His eyes, one marred by an old wound, tried to convey that strong feeling as words failed. He had his father’s facial structure; the signature sharp eyes and soft nose of the Min family. At this moment, his family name was just a word—it held none of its authority. His only reason to hold onto it now was to allow her to take it, too. To share it with him and change its legacy.

Despite his strength of body and will, his lips exercised the utmost gentleness when he kissed her. His lithe fingers cupped her face the second she kissed back. His expression when she sighed softly and pulled away was the look of an annoyed old man. This unabashedly honest reaction made her chuckle softly as she stroked his cheekbone.

While not in love, the two were attracted to each other. Without needing to state it, the two knew their union made the best political sense, and it was truly fortunate that their compatibility was based upon—and had always been based upon—respect. Though Yoongi, the bastard son of the Min clan’s patriarch had unfavorable fortune, his new bride never acknowledged his origins. His father had given him the Min name, and a Min he was. To her, it was as simple as that.

The consummation of their marriage was a tender affair. Both parties relished in being able to speak their minds without supervision. Having stayed up all night baring mind and soul, the baring of their bodies finally happened as the sun began to rise on their new kingdom. Yoongi had never felt such wonder at the simple intimacy of lacing his fingers through the soft hand of his wife.

He knew that, with her by his side, they could lift the kingdom to prosperity, and rectify the failures and lack of compassion exhibited by the previous kings and queens. From the moment he laid eyes on her, and from the moment she did not avert her gaze, he knew that fate favored them.

“My Queen?” He asked. The court sat in scandalized silence as their king deferred to his wife.

“The diplomatic relations with Japan are tense. We should confer with the Chinese and the Russians to address the threats of the Japanese empire. Send a member of the Kim clan to China, their queen favors the sons for potential wedding prospects of the daughters.” The queen spoke with clarity, and Yoongi nodded and stared at his court. No one seemed to leap into service. Blatantly rolling his eyes, Yoongi drawled:

“You heard your queen—what are you waiting for?”