#bts princes au

[junqkook]

— ROTTENFOLK: AFTERMATH (m.)

PAIRING. jungkook/reader, taehyung/reader GENRE. faerie au, angst, smut WORDS. 10,234 RATING. explicit

SYNOPSIS. six years after escaping from the faerie realm, you’ve done everything to hide yourself and your son from the high king. but you should have known he would never let you go so easily.

CONTENTS. boyfriend taehyung, faerie king jungkook, human reader, mother reader, father jungkook, kidnapping, manipulation, slight dubcon, riding, grinding, creampie, unprotected sex (stay safe!), rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, possessiveness, accidental exhibitionism/voyeurism, infidelity, multiple orgasms, hinted f/f, pregnancy, multiple smut scenes (!), overstimulation, fingering, dom jungkook.

NOTES. this is a sequel to rottenfolk. i highly suggest reading rottenfolk before reading this one. Y’ALL GOT ME MISSING THIS WORLD, so i gave in to my own desires and wrote this. i’ll warn you all now: this is not a happy story.

EXTRA NOTES. UNRWA; Care for Gaza; Direct Aid For Gaza. please consider donating to and/or sharing these organizations.

— rottenfolk. rottenfolk: aftermath.

Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you from behind and you giggled, leaning back into his chest. The smell of breakfast filled the kitchen and your boyfriend’s warm lips pressed chaste kisses against your neck.

“Missed you this morning,” he murmured.

You hummed and closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of him. “I woke up early and decided to treat my lovely boys to breakfast today.”

Taehyung chuckled and pulled his mouth away from your neck, resting his cheek against yours instead. “You know what Soobin told me last night?”

“What’d he tell you?”

“He concocted such an imaginative story,” your boyfriend of three years started, a lightness to his voice that comforted you. “Said he saw magical creatures in the forest by the park that knew his name—”

Your eyes shot open and you tensed in Taehyung’s arms. “What?”

He continued without noticing your reaction. “Yeah, he was telling me all about these—actually kind of grotesque now that I think about it—”

You whirled around in his arms and faced him. “When did he tell you this exactly? Where?”

Taehyung cupped your face and smiled at you. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Don’t worry, it’s just a story, he was probably watching YouTube or something and got the ideas—”

“Tae,” you pressed. “I’m serious. Please answer me.”

He held up his hands in defense and nodded. “Okay, okay. He told me while we were walking home from the park yesterday. He was really excited about it and said the fairies told him they’d see him again. It’s nothing bad, sweetheart. He’s just a five year old with an active imagination.”

You cursed under your breath. “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

Taehyung shrugged and crossed his arms. “I don’t know, it didn’t seem like pressing information to share. And you were dead tired when you came home, so it must have slipped my mind.” As he watched you flutter around the kitchen nervously, he continued. “Can you tell me what’s going on with you right now?”

You sighed and faced your boyfriend. “Remember when I told you about Soobin’s father?”

Taehyung pursed his lips. “Yeah. You said he’s dangerous.”

“He is,” you said. “I didn’t think he’d find me, or even be interested in it, but—he doesn’t know about Soobin. And I planned to keep it that way.”

“Okay,” Taehyung replied slowly. “So what’s changed?”

“Everything,” you whimpered. “If Soobin said that to you, it means his father knows about him. It’s… his people,” you said carefully. “They’re the only ones who would tell Soobin that they’re magical creatures and—if they know about my son, it’s only a matter of time before he knows, too.”

Taehyung rubbed his temples, making sure to keep his voice low. “So, what do we do now?”

Before you could answer, the sound of padding footsteps through the house interrupted your conversation. “Mama, good morning!” Soobin’s sleepy voice called out. He appeared from behind Taehyung, rubbing his tired eyes.

Scooping him up into your arms, you pressed kisses to his chubby cheek. He murmured half-heartedly and buried his little face into your neck. The tips of his growing horns pressed into your skin lightly. You smoothed down his dark hair and gave Taehyung a pleading look.

“Morning, little man,” your boyfriend said, patting your son on the back. “You ready for breakfast?”

Soobin sat up in your arms, turning his small body to look at his surrogate father, who had been in majority of his life. “Yes,” he mumbled, squirming until you set him down so he could grasp at Taehyung’s large hand. “Good morning.”

You watched Taehyung lead him over to the table, helping him scoot his chair closer to the table once he was seated. Hurrying, you brought over your boys’ plates and then went back for yours. Soobin and Taehyung waited for you to be seated to start eating.

“S’good, Mama,” Soobin said around his food.

You smiled. “Thank you, Binnie,” you replied. You almost had no appetite, the thoughts of Jungkook swirling in your head. You hated that your chest still ached, even with the years distancing you.

The day passed achingly slowly, every minute and every second feeling like an eternity; every sound and every shadow brought with it a wave of anxiety that you hadn’t felt in a long time. You felt bad for not allowing Soobin to go with Taehyung to the store, ignoring his pouting with a heavy heart.

Finally, when it was time for bed, you tucked Soobin in with a kiss to his forehead. He looked up at you with his eyes that were so like his father’s, pupils slitted like a cat’s, that you couldn’t help the wave of fear that shot through you. But you knew Soobin wasn’t like Jungkook, no matter how much he grew to resemble him in his looks with every day.

“Binnie,” you whispered, sitting at the edge of his bed while your hand stroked the strands of his dark hair. “I love you.”

He gave you a smile that was so soft, you hated yourself for seeing any part of Jungkook in him. “I love you more, Mama.” You chuckled, your worry easing a tiny bit. “I don’t know why you were sad today, but tomorrow will be better!”

You blinked back the tears that you could feel prickling in your eyes. “I know it will be,” you answered him, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead. “Sweet dreams, baby.”

As you stood, you noticed Taehyung smiling at the scene from the doorway. “Night, little prince,” he said to your son. The word jabbed at your ribs and you felt like you couldn’t breathe for a moment.

“That’s a new nickname,” you managed to get out between your nerves.

Soobin giggled from his bed. “The magical faeries called me that!” he said excitedly. “Wouldn’t it be so cool if I really was a prince, Mama?”

You turned to give him a strained smile. “It would be so cool, Soobin.”

“So cool,” he repeated, his voice trailing off as his eyes shut. “G’night, Tae.”

When you shut the door of his bedroom, you nearly collapsed—if it hadn’t been for Taehyung’s arms wrapping around your waist, you would have dropped like a puppet with its strings cut.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung whispered in panic as he held you up. You tried not to cry into his chest, finding comfort in his arms for a few agonizing seconds before you stood completely.

“Nothing, just—I’m fine,” you lied. “We should go to bed.” Taehyung’s lips pursed, not believing you for once second. “Please,” you whimpered.

With a sigh, Taehyung nodded. “Okay, okay. Let’s go to bed.”

Once in your own room, Taehyung’s warm body against yours, you rolled over until you were on top of him. He gazed up at you with hooded eyes, his hands finding purchase on your hips.

“I thought you were tired,” he murmured.

“How can I go to sleep when my man is laying there, looking that good?” you teased, wiggling yourself until you were slowly grinding against his clothed cock. He groaned and you could feel him hardening underneath you. With a shudder, you started grinding yourself against him harder, the friction delicious against your clit.

Taehyung’s hands slipped under your shirt and dragged it off your torso, your hips never stopping their movements against him. He sat up in the bed, his hips rocking up, and his mouth started sucking one of your nipples harshly. You pushed yourself off his lap for a few seconds to rapidly tug your pajama pants and underwear off, pulling Taehyung’s sweats and boxers halfway down his thighs as well. His cock was hard and red and you wrapped your hand around the length of it, pumping it quickly.

“You’re so hot, you know that?” he groaned against your breast, flicking and twisting your other nipple with his fingers. You tried to keep your voice down as you mewled, pushing yourself flush against his body and guiding the head of his cock to your slit. You rubbed it against your slit a few times, the head bumping into your clit with every drag, before you started to lower yourself onto it.

“You’re so big,” you panted into his ear, the burn of his cock stretching your walls making you clench tightly.

“No matter how many times I fuck you, this pussy is always so tight for me,” he grunted, grabbing for your hips and removing his mouth from your chest. His fingers dug into your bare skin and you sank down completely, shivering and clenching his cock inside of you.

Taehyung’s fingers found your clit easily after years of learning your body and he started to rub as you ground your hips into his. Soon, he was thrusting up into you roughly, his fingers on your hips helping you move up and down to keep pace with him. You gripped his hair and tugged his mouth to yours, kissing him deeply, the slap of your skin against his filling the room along with your little noises.

You orgasmed quickly, your wound up body giving way to pleasure easily. As your walls spasmed around his snapping hips, Taehyung cursed under his breath and held you down on his cock as it twitched, spurts of hot come filling you up. He didn’t stop grinding you against him while he rode out his own release, his fingers sliding down to play with your clit.

“Taehyung,” you whined, “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” he mumbled against your shoulder, his eyes shut while he savored the feeling.

You couldn’t help your bucking hips, chasing the feeling of his fingers pressed against your clit. You blinked your bleary eyes open and glanced toward the window, meeting cat-like eyes that startled you into a second orgasm while the head of Taehyung’s spilling cock continued to rub against your g-spot.

You had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the shout that tried to tear itself out of your throat—a mix of fear and pleasure.

Rocking your hips against Taehyung’s softening cock inside of you, you wrapped your arms around him and kept his head buried in your chest as he pressed kisses to the tops of your breasts. Your eyes never left the ones staring back at you.

Jungkook watched you with heat in his gaze, even though the rest of his face seemed as through he were bored and uninterested.

The shockwaves ran through your body, igniting every nerve in your limbs while your boyfriend’s cock slipped out of you, his come following. Your breaths started to quicken when Jungkook’s form left your window, and for a second you thought you might have imagined it. For a second, you let yourself breathe.

Then you realized he had moved toward Soobin’s window, on the other side of the hallway.

With a small yelp, your throat closed up and you couldn’t breathe. Taehyung lifted his head, startled at your sudden sound, and you ripped yourself away from him, not even bothering to clean the mess dripping between your thighs as you hurriedly dressed yourself, moving at a speed you had never moved before.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Taehyung asked, tucking himself back into his pajamas and shifting off the bed.

You didn’t have time to answer him, messily dressed now. Rushing to the bedroom door, you yanked it open and sprinted to your son’s bedroom, heart pounding and blood rushing through your ears.

You threw open Soobin’s door and for a second, time seemed to stop.

The window was open and Soobin was in front of it, Jungkook leaning against the windowsill from outside. Your son turned to look at you, surprise etched into his features, and Jungkook’s eyes found yours for a second time that night. Beside each other, the two looked so alike that you wondered how you had deluded yourself into believing they would never know.

“Sweetmeat,” Jungkook’s voice drawled, your body shuddering on instinct alone. You couldn’t stop shaking, rooted to the spot as his hand settled on top of Soobin’s head. “It’s been a while, I see.”

“Mama!” Soobin cried out, a smile pulling his lips up. “You know faeries? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Jungkook,” you choked out, taking a step into the room as Taehyung’s footsteps sounded behind you. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, every atom in your body completely focused on the father of your child. “Get away from him.”

The faerie king hummed and he moved his hand down to Soobin’s shoulder. “I will not.” Those eyes that were the same as Soobin’s darted down to the young boy before darting up to yours again. “All these years, you’ve kept him a secret from me.”

Taehyung was behind you now, his voice shouting something at Jungkook, but all you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the sweet voice that came from the faerie. You were already inside the bedroom, Taehyung right outside the doorway behind you.

“Close the door, ____,” Jungkook said softly.

Your body moved on its own, shutting the door before Taehyung could force his way in.

“Now lock it.”

You locked it.

Taehyung’s panicked voice and slamming hands against the door barely registered in your head as you turned to face Jungkook.

“Jungkook, please,” you whispered, tears pricking at your eyes. You took a few steps forward, stopping only when you saw his fingers tighten around Soobin’s shoulder. “Please. He’s my son—”

“And mine,” he interrupted harshly. Jungkook’s eyes narrowed when your breath hitched, Soobin’s wide and curious eyes turning toward him once again.

“You’re my dad?” he asked quietly.

Jungkook’s eyes seemed to soften for a moment. You thought it must be a trick of the moonlight. “I am,” he told Soobin. “And I’ve come to bring you to your real home, where you belong.”

“Mama can come, too, right?” he asked, glancing at you before looking at his father.

“Of course,” he said easily. “She is mine, after all, until she draws her last breath and an eternity after.”

He tilted his head and then beckoned you over. You dropped to your knees, wrapping your arms around Soobin and yanking him away from the High King.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whimpered. “Please, leave us here. Leave us alone.”

Jungkook’s eyes hardened and his hand shot out like a bolt of lightning, fingers wrapping around the collar of your shirt and dragging you toward the window roughly. Soobin’s small hands dug into your shirt and you heard him make a distressed noise where you had tucked him close.

“Do you forget yourself, human?” he growled, voice dangerously low. You could feel the anger simmering under the surface, unlike anything you had seen from him years ago—he had always been indifferent to you, never angry. You supposed it was only natural after finding out you had kept Soobin a secret, no matter how unnatural Jungkook was. “Answer me.”

“No,” you said shakily. “I am yours.”

“You will be returning with me to the Faerie Realm,” he snarled. “If only because my son has wished for it. You belong to me, sweetmeat. You are mine to do with as I please.”

“Yes,” you replied quietly, never looking away from his slitted eyes. “I am yours to do with as you please, my king.”

“Now get up and come.”

You did as he asked, rising to your feet and releasing Soobin from your grip, though he kept his hold of your shirt as he looked between the two of you. You couldn’t stop your body from removing his hands from you, even as your hands shook and your breath caught when he begged you not to. Your fingers didn’t even twitch when Jungkook lifted him out of the window and kept him on his hip. You followed immediately after, surprised when Jungkook grabbed a hold of your upper arm and maneuvered you on the branches so that you didn’t fall over as the three of you descended to the grass.

Jungkook kept a tight hold on Soobin’s hand as he led you two away from your home. He didn’t need to keep any kind of grip on you—he knew you would follow him, unable to refute his orders, especially not when he was leading your child away with him.

You didn’t look back at the house once.

The sounds and smells of the Faerie realm was something you hadn't realized you had missed so much. Nostalgia for the years you had spent among these fair folk blossomed in your chest, flowering through your skin until you could feel the tingle in your fingertips.

The faeries through the forest watched the three of you with wonderous eyes, all colors and shapes, the whispers like the sound of bees buzzing through the night air. When you looked at your son, his eyes were taking in everything around him with delight and curiosity.

Soon enough, you were walking up toward the palace that you had known so well before, familiarity settling in your bones as you took the trek.

"Soobin," Jungkook said softly—you didn't think that the High King could ever sound so soft while speaking. "Do you want to see your room?"

"Jungkook," you called, taking a few steps toward them so that you were right behind your husband and the faerie king.

His cat-like eyes cut to you, not nearly as soft as they were when looking at your son, and you hesitated to reach out to touch him. Your brain was screaming at you that any move you made would be a terrible idea.

"You'll wait your turn, sweetmeat," he said to you with a smile that could carve through flesh. "Though I thought you would remember where your place is here."

"Of course," you replied quickly, simmering down so as to not scare Soobin with your own fear.

"Mama," your son said excitedly, his small hand still gripping Jungkook's. "This place is so cool! Why didn't you tell me you knew faeries?" he questioned.

Looking at him now, your heart ached for the way you, too, had once looked on in amazement and only excitement in this realm. What would this place, with its cunning smiles and sweet dangers, do to him and his precious, innocent smile?

"I'm sorry, baby," you cooed, dropping to your knees on the ground in front of you and cupping his face in your hands. You brushed his dark hair back, fingers trying not to bump onto his little horns—they had always been sensitive to the touch. "The faeries have just been so busy, I haven't seen them in so long and forgot to tell you about them."

"Can I play with them?" he asked.

"No—"

"Of course—"

You and Jungkook cut yourselves off, meeting eyes as Soobin looked between the two of you. You could almost see the thoughts swimming around in Jungkook's head, as if deciding what to say. You were too afraid to make a sound, furrowing your brows a bit and hoping that he would have some sense to how your child had been raised so far.

"Why don't your mother and I discuss that and let you know tomorrow, okay?" he eventually said, smiling sweetly at your son—his son. Soobin nodded ecstatically, throwing his arms around you for a tight hug. You squeezed him close to you, kissing the top of his head. "Now say goodnight and I'll show you to your room."

"Goodnight, Mama!" Soobin exclaimed, letting go of you quickly and slipping his tiny hand back into his father's. How were you going to explain everything to him?

Jungkook paused to look back at you as you were getting up from your knees. "I trust that you remember where your chambers are?" he inquired, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Your cheeks flushed with heat and you willed them to go back to their normal color, not wanting to look embarrassed in front of your son. "Yes," you eventually choked out, ignoring the quiet chuckle that Jungkook let out, leading your son down the hall and towards whatever room he had assigned for him.

Sighing, you turned to the other side of the hall, ashamed that your feet did remember the way to Jungkook's chambers, where you always slept, ready to embrace him into you night after night. And you hated that your groin tingled at the memories, the release from earlier still sticky against your skin, even as it dried.

"Sweetmeat," Jungkook cooed as he came into his chambers, a devilish smile playing at his lips.

Your cheeks flushed as you sat on the bed, ashamed at your own body for reacting to his voice like this. The memories flooded your brain, every muscle in your body thrumming as you expected his touch.

"Well," he said, now standing in front of you and his hips sliding between your knees. "I see you have become forgetful in your time away," he murmured, his fingertips brushing your cheek and then tucking your hair behind your ear. "Usually you would await me with nothing on that smooth skin of yours."

You cleared your throat awkwardly as you looked up at him, your legs automatically spreading wider to make room for him to stand between them. You bit your bottom lip and couldn't stop yourself from leaning into his palm, his skin warm and so familiar to you.

"I can't," you whispered, shutting your eyes so you wouldn't see the look on his face.

To your surprise, he leaned down so that his nose brushed yours. Against your better judgement, you let your eyes flutter open and you met his slitted eyes, soft as they looked at you. There was no rage or wrath.

"Why can't you, sweetmeat?" he whispered back, every word making his lips brush against yours lightly with how close he was. You took in a shaky breath, leaning back on your hands to try to put distance between the two of you. "Don't you want me to have you?"

"Yes," you replied on instinct, screwing your eyes shut as his body pressed against yours. "But Taehyung—"

Jungkook's thumb pressed against your bottom lip, stopping you. Your eyes opened again, watching how his were trained on your mouth. "No need to worry about that human," he told you. "You were always mine first." Before you could object, he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips—you never thought you would receive a simple peck from the High King, whose touch had always been so rough and ragged on you.

"I—" You breathed against his mouth, leaning in for more of his kisses. He stayed just out of reach and it felt like a punishment. "I want you," you whimpered, letting one of your hands come up to cup his cheek. You met his eyes shyly, a spark traveling through your abdomen at the dark way he looked at you, like he wished to devour you. "I want you," you repeated.

"You'll never be anyone else's," he said to you as he crawled over your body, gently pushing you back onto the lush mattress. Your heart was pounding in your chest as he tugged your baggy shirt over your torso, revealing your bare breasts to his gaze. "I simply allowed that mortal to loan you," he growled, leaning down to nip at your hard nipple.

"Yes," you sighed, your fingers digging into his dark hair. "I'm only yours." His mouth enveloped the tip of your breast, biting down around the areola and making you hiss from a mix of pain and pleasure. "I belong to you."

Jungkook pulled your sweats down your legs, lifting his head from your chest for only long enough to remove them completely and undress himself as well. Your eyes marveled at his body, not realizing how much you'd missed looking at it. Of course, you couldn't help but let your eyes trail down to his cock, which was already hard and you could feel the tingling between your legs.

His smirk widened as he grabbed your thighs, yanking you towards him until the underside of his cock was pressing against you. A quiet whimper fell from your lips.

"You don't need to be loosened, do you?" he asked sweetly, though you could hear the tinge of mocking in his tone. You'd heard it so often, right here on this very bed, that you could detect anything in Jungkook's voice.

Your cheeks were hot. "No," you whispered, shaking your head. "But I should clean fir—"

"No," he replied, rocking his hips toward you playfully. "I'll fuck you right now."

You wanted to protest, still dripping with Taehyung's cum. A pang of guilt throbbed in your chest, but the ache of desire drowned it out quickly. Your breath caught in your throat as he slowly pushed the length of his cock inside of you, a groan leaving his lips when he bottomed out.

"How are you still this tight?" he asked you, almost incredulous. "Just fucked and still this tight around my cock?"

Clenching around him, your eyes rolled back as he pulled out only a few centimeters before pushing back inside slowly. "I can't help it," you whined, spreading your thighs further apart until your knees were about to touch the silky bedcovers. "You make me this way."

When you met Jungkook's eyes, they were dark and hungry. "You're so wet," he told you, his fingers finding the flesh of your hips and digging into your skin. "I'm going to replace all this cum inside of you with my own."

Before you had a chance to say anything, or even start to feel a shred of shame, he pulled out almost all the way and then shoved himself inside of you, starting a brutal and quick pace. The bed was already shaking with the force of his movements, and your hand darted to your mouth for something to bite down onto.

As he thrusted into you, the lewd sounds echoing in the bedchamber and cum dripping past his cock and down your skin onto the bed, all your thoughts melted away. You had missed him. You'd missed everything about him—your body had missed him. Logically, you knew that this was wrong, that you had finally managed to find peace with the family you had created—but now—

"Jungkook," you moaned, releasing your hand from the bite of your teeth, and slid it onto his shoulder. "I need you—"

"Of course you do, sweetmeat," he cooed, though you could feel the shiver that went through his body. "You belong to me."

You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to your body. One of his hands moved up from your hip, his palm dragging lightly against your bare skin, cupping your breast and squeezing it in his hands. You whimpered and he pinched your nipple between his fingers, almost too painfully, but you liked it—maybe a little too much.

When his hand moved higher up your body to your neck, squeezing it gently while he shoved himself deeper and deeper into you with every thrust of his hips, you couldn't help the wanton moan that ripped its way out of your throat. Your legs tightened around him, trying to hold him inside of you forever while you twitched and squirmed, your orgasm building quickly and intensely.

"That's it, sweet thing," he purred, pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, using his other hand to push your thigh up so he could shove it in further while you came, clenching around him sporadically. "Did your human make you feel this good?"

"No," you croaked, seeing stars. "No one has ever made me feel this good." And you weren't lying, even though the guilt had started to eat its way through the pleasure in your abdomen.

Jungkook hummed and then started up his agonizing pace once more, making your body squirm and your toes curl.

"I can't," you begged, hands lowering to the bedsheets and clawing them in your fingers. "It hurts—"

"You can," he replied smoothly, and the head of his cock brushed the sensitive spot inside of you. You clenched hard, a cry falling from your mouth. "You will, human."

He pulled his cock out of you and when you looked down, it was wet with a mix of your slick and the cum that had still been inside of you. You didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed, though your cheeks did flush a little hotter than before. In one fluid movement, Jungkook turned you onto your stomach, his hands finding purchase on your hips and pulling them up so that your ass was in the air and your face was pressed against the bed.

You felt the slide of his cock back into you, eyes rolling back and fingers gripping the sheets. As it filled you, the squelch of it entering you again filling the room, Jungkook fisted your hair in his hand and pulled your head up.

Your body was still reeling from your orgasm—the second one that night—so you could do nothing but let him hold you in place there, a little moan coming out of your throat with every harsh thrust.

"That's a good girl," he groaned, his cock twitching inside of you while his thrusts started to slow down. "You always did take my cock so well for a human."

"Yes," you whispered, feeling a little bit of your spit on the corner of your lip. "It's all for you."

Jungkook moaned, shoving your head back down onto the bed, fingers still tightly gripping your hair. The slight pain from his hold mixed well with the pleasure of him rubbing against that spot inside of you over and over until you could barely take it.

"It's like you were molded for me," he said roughly, his body towering over yours as he tried to bury himself inside of you as far as he could go.

"I was," you said in a broken whimper, and you felt the twitch of his cock, followed by a spurt of his release, hot inside of you and filling you completely.

He rolled his hips a few times, and while still inside of you, his hand released your hair and curled around your torso, fingers finding your clit immediately. Your eyes widened for a second, the feeling of his fingers moving against your clit mixing between pleasure and pain. While his seed slipped past his cock and down your thighs, the feelings all crashed into you at once—guilt, pleasure, pain, shame, tingling—and you couldn't help but buck your hips against his hand and orgasm a second time.

When you were done, seeing stars behind your eyelids, he finally pulled out of you, letting his seed spill out of you and allowing your body to fall completely against the cool bed.

Turning to face him as he laid next to you, you couldn't even muster up a smile. Even with sweat on his face, his dark hair clinging to his skin, he still looked beautiful and ethereal.

Jungkook's eyes met yours and you couldn't stop your panting, your body completely spent—you couldn't even bring yourself to care about the mix of your slick and his seed still dripping out of you and onto the bed.

"Are you spent, sweetmeat?" he asked, a smirk starting to play at his lips.

You sighed and nodded, eyes still focused on his. "Yes," you replied slowly. "It's been... A long time," you settled on, not sure how to navigate your absence, even if he had originally allowed it.

"Well," he said gleefully. "You will get used to it again, soon."

It was then that you realized you couldn't see his other hand. When you let your eyes follow his arm down to his hand, you realized it was stroking his still hard cock, your slick and his come mixing all over it. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened—though, you could already feel the heat of desire in your belly and the tingling between your thighs as you clenched and unclenched around nothing.

"We are going to have so much fun, sweetmeat," Jungkook snickered, rolling over towards you to lick into your mouth.

The music and feasting was something you had missed, watching all the faeries let loose and be themselves, as grotesque as that might look to your human eyes. Jungkook had seated you at the table, taking Soobin away to introduce him to others and show him around a bit.

You were dressed in a gown made of silk, the neckline dipping almost halfway down your chest, but still covering your breasts from view—Jungkook could be possessive when he wished.

The faeries had given you looks, some with curiosity and some with suspicion—others even with pity, if you weren't completely delusional. Your eyes stayed trained on your son, who was learning how to play a game from the other young faeries around him.

"He belongs here," Jungkook whispered in your ear, spooking you for a moment. You looked up at him as he grinned at Soobin, watching him still as he took his seat beside you at the table, his hand patting your thigh before resting on the arm of his chair.

"I didn't think he'd fit in so well," you admitted, unable to stop the smile on your lips and the softness in your voice when Soobin laughed, holding hands with a young faerie who was dripping sap from their limbs.

Jungkook hummed and lightly tapped your chin with his fingers, turning your face to look at him. "Eat," he said flatly. "You belong here, too."

You swallowed nervously. Your eyes darted down to your plate, full of deliciously smelling food, the aroma calling to you. "Jungkook," you whispered, looking back at him.

His fingertips were so soft against your skin that their presence there could've been a hallucination—but you could feel a razor sharp tingle where they touched you, a subtle threat in the gentleness.

"Jungkook, when will we be able to go home?" you asked quietly,

Though his face hadn't changed, you could feel the tension settling in between your bodies. He hummed and let his fingers drag down from your chin to your neck, and then further down to your collarbones. You shivered, letting your eyes flutter shut while they continued their way down between your neckline, every touch of his igniting the nerves in your body.

His hand shot up and gripped your throat, startling your eyes into opening. He didn't tighten his hold, simply keeping a slight pressure on your neck. Jungkook's expression was wicked—and cruel.

"This is your home," he cooed, though nothing about his tone was soft. He leaned in closer, bringing you closer in as well with his hand around your throat. Your breath caught and he brushed his nose against yours lightly, eyes never wavering from yours. "I thought I did well to remind you of that earlier, sweetmeat."

Heat flooded your cheeks, traveling down your chest and between your thighs. You clasped them together instinctively and shuddered when you saw Jungkook's gaze glance down towards your legs.

"Should I remind you here, sweetmeat?" he continued, snickering at the way you were going pliant in his grasp. "Shall I show my court who you belong to?"

You wanted to say yes—everything in your body was craving him already, wanting every bit of him all over you. And to have every faerie in his court watch as he took you—over and over again—you could barely resist the temptation.

But you couldn't give in right now.

"I want you to," you whimpered, shutting your eyes again as he leaned in closer, licking your lips lewdly. He bit your bottom lip and you gasped, allowing him to press closer, kissing you lazily. His hands released your throat and moved back to the nape of your neck, holding you in place while he kissed you.

"Ew!" a voice exclaimed, a voice that was too familiar—and the entire reason you were planning to refuse his tempting offer.

You tore yourself away from Jungkook, who looked puzzled. "Binnie!" you breathed, shifting in your seat. "What's up, honey?"

Jungkook's hand stayed firmly in its place at the back of your neck, hot and heavy.

"Mama, what are you doing?" your son asked, crinkling his nose up in disgust.

"Your dad and I, we just—we just missed each other, that's all," you explained quickly. "Sometimes adults do that when they really love each other!"

Soobin frowned, tilting his head to the side. Before he could ask anymore questions, Jungkook smiled down at him. "Why don't you go to bed, Soobin?" he said, though you could see even your son, at such a young age, instinctively knew to heed his king's command.

An older faerie, one whose hair looked like sea moss trailing all the way down to its feet, arrived quickly and started to pull Soobin and the other young faerie with him away from the table.

"Wait!" he cried out, rushing over to your side.

You quickly enveloped him in your arms, raising him up to your lap. "What's wrong?" you asked, cupping his cheeks in your palms.

"You didn't give me a goodnight kiss," he pouted, wrapping his small arms around you for a hug.

"Aw, my baby Binnie," you cooed, kissing the top of his head. "Mama loves you so much." He looked up at you, his pouting lips still the same, and you kissed his cheek three times.

"I love you, too, Mama," he replied, leaning up to give your cheek a kiss as well. He looked over to Jungkook. "Can I give Dad a kiss, too?"

You hesitated, looking over at the High King, whose face was unreadable. Then, he opened his arms up in a welcoming gesture—Soobin hurriedly climbed down from your lap and rushed to his father, who gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his matching dark hair.

Once your son was bounding away, happily chatting with the faeries surrounding him, you sighed and turned to look at the High King, who you found already watching you.

"This is his home," Jungkook repeated harshly. You pursed your lips, hating yourself for the butterflies in your stomach when you knew Taehyung was waiting for you in the human realm. "Soobin belongs here." You didn't want to admit it, though you knew both of you knew perfectly well that he did fit in here—especially once his horns fully grew in atop his head. "Our other children will belong here, too."

Your cheeks flushed and your eyes widened, taken aback at his words. His face was unreadable, even after spending so much of your time with him. "Other children?" you gasped.

"Yes," he said easily, turning away from you and looking over the dancing and partying faeries. "I need many heirs."

A faerie took his attention before you could formulate any words in response to his statement, but you couldn't stop the pounding of your heart in your chest and the quick soar of elation that filled your head with dangerous thoughts—thoughts of the two of you together for the eternity you had promised to him, of you as his bride, of belonging to this world eternally.

You didn't see Jungkook for the rest of the night, but that didn't stop your imagination from running wild with the possibilities of your future together.

The nights passed in a blur of music, little adventures with Soobin, and reliving your memories from years ago. You couldn't help but lose yourself in this world, fully immersed in the customs and life of Faerie—especially now that you were anticipating your new familial life with Jungkook, as he'd implied.

The door shut behind him quickly and you were already slipping the straps of your dress off of your shoulders, the glitter from the fabric sticking to your skin. It fell to the ground softly and Jungkook's hands were already running down your arms, his body right behind yours.

You turned your face sideways to glance back at him, heat already pooling in your lower abdomen at his touch.

"Lie to me, sweetmeat," he whispered, dropping his head to press kisses to your shoulder, nipping at the flesh with his teeth.

You shuddered as his clothed body pressed into your bare one from behind, the tickle of the fabric causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

"I want to go home," you murmured, your body molding against his as he walked you forward, bending you over onto the mattress. He undid his pants, letting them fall to the ground, and slid his hard cock against your ass.

You whined and pushed back against him, not even embarrassed at how slick you already were. You were already clenching around nothing in anticipation.

"How badly do you want me?" he asked, keeping one palm spread on your back to hold you down. His foot kicked your legs further apart to open you up completely to him. "Do you crave me?"

You moaned as the head of his cock pushed into your folds lightly but pulled away before giving you what you wanted. "Yes," you said. "I've never stopped wanting you."

Jungkook finally—finally—pushed his cock into you, sliding all the way in easily. He said nothing for a while, simply groaning and thrusting in and out of you, filling the room with the lewd sounds of skin against skin. You were gripping fistfuls of the sheets, even biting down on them when his pace became unforgiving.

"How often did you picture me when that human was buried inside of you?" he asked, and you could hear the large grin in his voice. You didn't answer, heat flooding into your cheeks. "Were you hoping it was my cock inside of you, filling you with my seed?" You moaned in response, clenching tight around him as he picked up his pace even faster, almost slamming his cock into you over and over. "Answer me," he growled, his fingers finding your hair and pulling your head up from where it was flush against the bed.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice shaking. "I wanted you to be the one fucking me—"

Jungkook's door opened and you flinched, though his grip on you didn't loosen and his movements only slowed, never stopping.

A woman came into view, though your eyesight was blurred and you had to focus them to see what she looked like.

"Ah, Wife," Jungkook purred, slowly pushing his cock into you so you could feel every centimeter.

"Husband," she replied easily, barely glancing at you.

You clenched around him from your shock, your little breathy sounds fading into the background. You couldn't stop your body from pushing back into him, wanton for him.

"What is it?" he asked, his hips still pounding into you from behind. You were staring at the woman, unable to take your eyes off of her as you took in her beauty. Her hair was a light blue, the very tips turning white and ending near her hips. There was a small golden crown wrapped around head, weaving through her hair like vines. Her ears were long and pointed—longer than Jungkook's ears.

"I see you returned your pet," she said instead, blankly looking over your form. You felt like you were being shown at an auction, but you couldn't muster up any feelings of shame, still used to the way the High King would keep you exposed to anyone who opened his door—even his apparent wife.

"I have," he returned gleefully, snickering. His cock slipped out of you with a lewd sound and his hands gripped your body, forcefully turning you over from your bent position so that you were laying flat on your back on the bed. You let out a small sound at the shift, but his cock was already burying itself inside of you again, brushing against your g-spot and making you moan loudly instead. "Isn't she exquisite?"

"She's very loud," his wife said plainly. "I can see the appeal."

Jungkook rocked his hips into you at a slow pace, one of his hands moving up to your breast and kneading it, pinching your nipple hard as you cried out, clenching and unclenching repeatedly.

"They require you in the meeting hall tomorrow morning," his wife continued. Jungkook merely hummed, his eyes completely focused on his cock disappearing into you over and over slowly. "Do not forget to attend."

"You should really try a human woman," Jungkook redirected, biting his lip and hissing as his bottomed-out cock twitched inside of you. You whimpered, unable to help the flush of arousal at the thought of her joining, memories of the others flooding your head for a few moments. You wrapped your legs around Jungkook's hips, pulling him tighter against you as he chuckled.

"I have humans," she replied, eyes running up and down your sweaty body and stopping for a few seconds too long on your breasts. "I find myself more inclined for the men of the species."

"Your loss," he grunted, grabbing your hips and yanking you harder towards him, picking up his brutal pace again and filling the air with the sounds of your skin slapping together. "Close the door."

You watched her nod her head towards him slightly before she retreated, pulling the door shut behind her. You could feel the orgasm building inside of you as he continued his movements, all your thoughts and words scrambled in your head.

"That's it, sweetmeat," he cooed, hissing as he rushed his pace. "Come all over me."

You moaned loudly at his command and felt complied to respond with your body, the pleasure tightening in your belly first as your orgasm hit you like a wave, shockwaves throbbing through your body as he continued to thrust into you through it.

"Jungkook," you panted, tightening your legs around his hips and fisting the sheets in your fingers as you winced. "It hurts—"

"Take it, human," he said blankly, his eyes focused on yours intently. You bit your bottom lip and shivered, trying to move your hips along to his bruising pace. "You're so good for me," he purred, leaning down as he stilled inside of you so that he could lick into your mouth lewdly. You could feel his cock twitch before he came, spurting his seed deep inside of you.

"Jungkook," you whimpered, arching your back, arousal swirling in your belly at the feeling of him releasing.

He shushed you as he rode out his orgasm, keeping himself flush against you even as he began to soften and his come started to slip out of you and down your thighs to the bed. As you kissed him back, licking back into his mouth and running your fingers through his dark hair and touching his horns lightly, causing him to growl against your lips, you couldn't help but remember the faerie that had stopped by.

"You're married," you whispered against his lips.

He pulled back just enough to look at you and a razor sharp smile was present on his mouth. "Yes," he said. "The High King must be wed for the future of Faerie." When you didn't say anything, pondering his words to you earlier, he continued as his finger began to trace your cheek. "Did you think I would marry you, sweetmeat?"

Your cheeks flushed. "No."

Jungkook laughed loudly and then pressed a harsh kiss to your pouting lips. "Humans are so fascinating when they lie," he finished, and you could feel him getting hard again inside of you. You squirmed underneath him as he kept you pinned down, a gleeful glint in his eyes as he watched you.

"Again, Jungkook?" you whined, though you were already clenching around him and rocking your hips up into him, your body begging him to start moving again.

He hummed and grinded against you slowly, enjoying the sounds your sticky bodies made with every movement. His hand came to grip your face and he held you still, pulling his cock out halfway and then sliding back in slowly. "I will keep you here, bred and ready for me for eternity," he said roughly, the head of his cock brushing against your g-spot again and making you mewl. He took the opportunity to lick into your open mouth.

When he released you, you sighed against his lips and pressed your thighs against the bed to allow him in deeper. "For eternity," you promised.

Jungkook's hips bucked into you and started another brutal pace, filling the room with your moans for the rest of the night.

"Soobin!" you called, running your hand down your belly bump and feeling the fabric of your dress, like silk, cool against your palm. Each of your fingers was adorned in rings, some metal and some vine. "Bring your brother and sister from the trees."

Your oldest son rolled his eyes, his horns curled backwards and ears almost as long as Jungkook's. He was taller than you now, his growth spurt hitting him years prior, and you couldn't help but smile at him sweetly as you made your way to the long table. Jungkook was seated at the head of the table, your family feasting inside the castle on a rare occasion. His wife was seated to his right and you made your way to his left, huffing as you struggled to sit comfortably.

Jungkook's smile to you was as sweet as it could be. "They should be content to play," he started, but you tutted at him and leaned back in the chair.

"I want them to have some connection to human manners," you replied easily, already used to having the same conversation every time you ate inside.

"I think it's good for them," Hana said, interjecting for once into the conversation.

You nodded your head at her, gesturing. "See?"

Jungkook sighed, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest. "Yes, yes, go ahead and gang up on me."

"Daddy!" your daughter called out loudly, the rushed footsteps of her and her siblings filling the hall as they ran over to the table. Jungkook immediately opened his arms and let her jump into his lap, running his hand down her long dark hair. "Minnie hit me!"

Jungkook hummed, looking over at his two sons as they took their seats beside you, Soobin first. "And what did you do back?"

Ha Yoon smiled wickedly. "I bit him."

Jungkook and Hana laughed. He let her down from his lap, patting the top of her head. She bounced over to you, pulling on the tips of your hair the same way she used to as a baby. You lowered your head as much as you could and then winced when she nipped at your cheek with her sharp teeth. She giggled when you returned it with a kiss to her head and then rushed over to sit beside her brother.

"Soobin," Jungkook started as the servants, a mix of faeries and humans alike, began to place the food on the table and into your plates. "Have you thought about Hana's proposition?"

Soobin perked up, though your body tensed. Jungkook's eyes cut to you for a brief second, noticing your reaction, before he returned his gaze to your son.

"Yes," he replied, his voice much deeper than it had been when you'd returned to Faerie. "I'd like to go."

You bit the inside of your cheek and shoveled a spoonful of food into your mouth, now used to the wonderfully rich tastes this world had to offer you.

"Wonderful!" Jungkook said, smiling widely. "The carriages leave tomorrow for the Court. You'll go with them."

"My brother will teach you well," Hana said, smiling at Soobin sweetly. She had been like a second mother to him all these years, so you understood that your anxiety was rooted in nothing but jealousy and a wish to keep your children near you. "Oh, and Jungkook," she continued, turning her attention to her husband while you fussed over Soobin and Minhyuk.

"Yes, Wife?" he hummed, making a face at his daughter, who looked the most like him out of the three children.

"I'm pregnant," she giggled.

Jungkook's ears twitched and he turned to her quickly, all sounds quieting in the hall. "You are?"

"Yes."

"That's wonderful, Wife," he said smoothly, reaching over and holding her hand in his. You eyed their intertwined fingers and rings with a rush of jealousy, but the anxiety in your chest worsened. "Faerie will be full of my children's laughter."

They looked over at you expectantly. "Congratulations, Hana," you gulped, smiling as wide as you could to mask your fears.

She smiled tightly back at you, her eyes darting down to your own pregnant belly. "Thank you," she said.

Jungkook reached over and took your hand in his so that he was holding both of your hands. "We will celebrate and have a feast tomorrow with the courts," he said. He squeezed your hand and then released Hana's first, using his now free hand to pat your arm before he let go.

"So we're going to have another brother?" Minhyuk asked, speaking for the first time since he sat down. Your middle son was rather quiet and looked more like you than his father, though you didn't think Jungkook minded. He spoiled them all the same.

"Or sister," Hana told him, her face back to the usual stoic expression that everyone was familiar with.

"And it'll be two of them," you told him. Minhyuk tilted his head and then went back to his food, shoveling it in ravenously.

"And there will still be time for more," Jungkook said wickedly. "From both of you." His foot bumped into yours and you looked up at him through your lashes, arousal swirling between your legs when he winked at you and reached over to rest his hand on your thigh. Hana gasped and you looked over to her, watching how her cheeks flushed pink and you could see that Jungkook's other hand was below the table in her direction as well.

He released both of you again and continued his food, the children chatting with each other and him, mostly, excited to have their father's attention since most of his morning and afternoon had been spent in his office and among his advisors.

Once the children were done with their food, they excused themselves from the table and went to go continue playing. Soobin decided to go off on his own from his siblings, but you still had no idea where he went on nights like these; Jungkook always quelled your worries, telling you that he was at that age now where he should be left alone when he needed to be, instead of fretted over.

Jungkook gestured for you with his hands and you rose from your chair, moving over to stand in front of him. He placed his hands on your belly, eyes devouring you in a way that made you want to push your thighs together for relief. He smirked.

"Have they told you what it is yet?" he asked.

"No," you replied quietly, glancing over at Hana. "They say it'll be another boy."

"Faeries and their theories," he sighed, though his tone was fond. "We'll be visiting the Unseelie Court in a few days," he continued.

"Me as well?" you asked, confused. Usually him and his wife went, but you stayed here.

"Yes," he said. "Hana will be going with Soobin. You will come with me."

You bit your lip as his hands started to travel down your dress, using his fingers to pull the fabric up higher and higher, pulling you closer to his lap as he did so. Even after all these years, he was still insatiable.

"I will go prepare and find Soobin," she interrupted, standing up and dragging your attention away from Jungkook.

He stopped her for a brief second, though his hands continued their work until your dress was lifted enough for him to slide his fingers along your unclothed folds, gathering the slick of your arousal on them before he pushed two inside at once, making you whimper as you leaned back on the table.

"Be ready for me tonight, Wife," he told her. She nodded her head.

Then she took a few steps forward, leaning down and pressing her lips to yours. You gasped into her mouth, letting her tongue press against yours as Jungkook snickered from below you, continuing to work his fingers in and out of you. Hana pulled away with an obscene pop of her mouth, biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and make you hiss, clenching around Jungkook's fingers.

"I will be," she told him after, leaning down and kissing him harshly. He groaned and rubbed his thumb against your clit with every lick of her tongue against his. Then she pulled away and left the hall, you suspected to her own quarters.

Jungkook pulled his fingers from you and put them in his mouth, licking your slick off while he maintained eye contact with you. He let go of your dress, letting it drop back down to cover your legs, and stood from his chair, walking past the table and looking back at you.

"Come, sweetmeat," he commanded you. Rushing forward as fast as you could in your condition, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to lead you out into the hall. Jungkook took the opposite turn from the hall leading to his bedroom, instead leading you towards the doors that led into the massive back gardens of the castle, one of your favorite places. You could feel your cheeks flushing with excitement already, knowing he was going to splay you out for anyone wandering the garden to see.

Your packed suitcase was ready beside you, but you ignored it and spent your time fixing Soobin's shirt collar and patting down his hair. He shook his head around, huffing as you fussed over him.

"Mom, I'm not going to be gone so long," he protested, though his voice was soft. You frowned, letting your fingers run through his dark hair one last time before you lowered your hand.

Hana flicked his nose lightly, earning a noise of complaint from the now young adult. "A mother worries, Binnie," she chided him. You smiled lightly when he lowered his head, mumbling an apology to you at her words. He held your hand lightly and pressed a kiss to the back.

"My sweet boy," you said almost tearfully, bringing him in for a hug even though he stood much taller than you. He wiggled uncomfortably, trying not to press too hard against your belly as he returned the hug. "Be safe."

He pulled back with a large smile. "You, as well."

Jungkook arrived, pressing a hand to the small of your back to nudge you forward. "Let us go, sweetmeat," he told you, still using his favorite nickname of yours after so many years. "Yeon will care for the children while we are away."

You looked back, waving to your other two children, who were still so young they couldn't care any less about all of them leaving for about a week's time. "Take care of him, Hana," you said quietly, grabbing her hand and giving it a squeeze.

She smiled pleasantly. "As I always have," she replied, returning your squeeze.

Jungkook ruffled Soobin's hair. "Do give them some trouble," he said wickedly, sharing a similar smile of mischief with his oldest son. He leaned over and pressed a long kiss to his wife's mouth, sliding his hand to the back of her neck to keep her close while Soobin started to put their bags in their carriage. When he pulled away, her lips were plump and red from his.

You waved to them as they got in and the drivers led them away, your own carriage pulling up to the front and the servants opening the door. Jungkook easily tossed the suitcases in and then helped you up, always more caring and careful when you were carrying his children. He slid into the seat beside you, never preferring to be across from you like in the shows you had always seen, even if sitting beside each other was more cramped.

"Do not worry, human," Jungkook told you blandly, not even looking out of the window as the carriage started to move, taking you away from the place you had become so familiar with. "We will only be visiting a few days and then we will be back with our children."

You couldn't help but take his hand in yours, thankful he simply opened his palm and let you intertwine your fingers together. "I know," you said, leaning over and resting your head on his shoulder.

As the carriage continued on, you dragged your free hand down your belly nervously, hoping that all your fears concerning the courts were unwarranted and simply human anxieties.

all rights reserved © junqkook | 13 MARCH 2024 | the reposting/modifying of any kind on any medium is strictly not allowed. translations are not allowed.

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 18

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 12k

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tags: oral (f), tiddie sucking…love kink?, teasing, vaginal fingering, begging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting (yeah…), soft dom!kook, loss of virginity, penetrative sex, it doesn’t fit, but only for a moment, size kink,  possessiveness, multiple positions, slight spanking, corruption kink if you squint, creampies (wrap it before you tap it, condoms don’t exist in this au so…yknow)

Note: this chapter was not supposed to be so horny but the brain insisted 💅

Chapel bells could be heard, a somber cry of the hazy day ahead, you sniffled trying to get the smell of ash out of your nose, squinting as you glanced through the cracked tent, the sky tinted and hazy.

You didn’t remember the sun looking quite that color, it was distorted from normal, another bell chimed and you could hear the camp from even this distant, a crackle of the fire and a sob.

“Focus!” Baba Enàir slapped the stick in front of your desk making you jump.

“Sorry Baba.”

“You can say sorry to all the folks who rely on your hands to save their kin,” Her eyes glowered down at you, “As for me, you will do good and well to pay attention.”

Your lips twitched as you stared down at your desk, eyes slowly squinting into a glare before briefly glancing behind her once more towards the open flap of the tent where you watched the girls, hands all joined skipping in a circle.

“Why can’t I be excused?” 

Baba Enair’s eyes followed yours as she sighed, perhaps taking pity on you, though if she did her eyes didn’t show it. 

“You are the Princess of Eunoia, the people look to you for hope, not the court girls.” Baba Enair replied, “Your dryad blood allows you to heal in a way other girls cannot, that other people cannot. It isn’t fair, but it’s for the war, the amount of lives you can save alone compares to ten of the court girls. It’s imperative that your skill is honed. Now focus once more.”

You sighed, you had heard the same reason again and again, one day you hoped it would finally mean something to you though, today however, was not that day.

Regardless of how you felt, you stuck your hands back into the moon water, a small beautiful red fish, evidentially dying as it struggled to swim around. 

You closed your eyes.

“Now start your three part breath, calm your mind.” Baba Enair instructed.

You took a deep breath from your stomach, slowly expanding it to your chest and then your throat, finally letting it exhale, after a few more breaths you began to speak.

“Ni esta- upon I cemen, eless- mama na- laiva,” 

“Louder.” Baba Enair commanded.

“Let your coiv- mauime- celusse minna -yes’s eala-“ you winced as you yanked your hands from the water, the water boiling and your lips parting, feeling a piece of your heart crack at the fish, no longer swimming, but floating.

Your eyes watered as your lips trembled, you wanted him to have a peaceful passing, but all you caused was pain…

Baba Enair slapped the stick on your table, “You were too fast, too hasty! Rushing your studies will only make them last longer. Save your tears child, you will have much to cry for if you cannot even heal a fish.”

Your eyes only closed letting the tears stream down your face, the scene shifted, the tent no longer over you, but the sky above.

Thick with clouds of ash and the fire raged on, the sickening smell of death in the air, people groaning in agony and cries of mourning.

“How could you let him die you bitch! He was only a child!”

Your mouth was ajarred as you took an unsteady step back, “I’m- I’m sorry but I tried everything-“ the tent behind you being prepped for the fire, there laid a boy no older than four, a head wound that he had accidentally reopened when he fell down, attempting to play with his friend.

Blood was everywhere, even now covering your hands as tears gathered in your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

The older mother only glared as if you were nothing more than a speck of dirt under her shoe, “You’ve no right to cry!” She screamed out, reaching out as she grabbed your hair making you yelp, “You are no princess of this country! You are nothing! The dryads have abandoned your veins!” 

Guards had already pulled her off but she made sure to shove you down, gravel digging into your palms as sharp jagged pain entered your body.

Tears dripped down your nose as you heard the woman scream and cry, throwing curse words your way only for her voice to be guided elsewhere as her son’s body was carried out of the tent.

Placed into a bag but it was evident he was in there, you glanced at the large bonfire, cowardly. You looked back at the ground, unable to watch them toss his body in.

You heard her wails and cries as the fire burned bright.

And suddenly, it was surrounding you, suffocating you as you cried out, the plead of a child, the skin melting from your hands and-

You gasped, sweat dripping from your body as you sat up in bed, wincing as if something of ash still lingered in your lungs, coughing you grabbed the water carafe from your nightstand, pouring a drink.

Leaning your back against your bed board, it was just a dream…you took a shaky breath, attempting to close your eyes,

‘blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible’

Your eyes shot back open upon being greeted with Di Jin’s dead face.

It had already been difficult to go to sleep, his cold dead face showing up every time you closed your eyes, or in your dreams once you had finally slept. Tonight had been different though, different difficulties deciding to present themselves this time.

All better forgotten nonetheless.

It had only been two days, and yet, it felt as if no time had passed at all, slowly you peeled the covers off yourself, shivering as you grabbed your nightgown cover, putting the long sleeve on as you walked to the door.

The room suddenly felt too closed in, too suffocating, you needed air.

Opening the door, you were greeted with your personal knight Yoongi, his injuries still healing, but he was doing far better than you.

When the unfortunate event of Di Jin and Seohyun showed up, Yoongi had shown up the morning after, bruised and battered, the entire operation of the tower being sieged a guise to bait him out and even better if it killed him, and worst of all it worked. 

Well, the bit to draw him out, but evidently he was still very much alive.

“Your Highness?” Yoongi raised his brows a little, not surprised to see you up, but a little concern evident in his eyes.

“I wish to go for a walk.” Your voice was a quiet croak, shaky even.

“Of course.” Yoongi replied.

“Can it be…as if I were by myself?” Your lips turned into a small frown.

Yoongi gave you a weak smile, “You won’t even notice me.” 

You nodded before walking past him, a little ways ahead before you could only assume he melded into the shadows, trailing behind unseen but still within a safe distance.

The corridors were empty, save for a few guards who bowed for you before giving you no grief, everyone looked at you differently though. 

It was evident in their eyes, the way they all warily kept a distance. 

Once upon a time, you had gotten used to your title, the Bitch of Eunoia.

But now they had all taken to calling you something different, something new, the Blood-Devoured Bitch. It was a hybrid name, both of Penumbrian and Eunoian background, sickening and yet flattering all the same, it suited you, you supposed.

Stepping out into the courtyard you innately shivered, ice cold air penetrated easily past your cover, wrapping your arms around yourself you took a big breath of air.

It’s crisp cool entered your lungs like new life, and for a moment you felt better.

Sitting down on the bench you curled into yourself, and suddenly the weight of your soul felt heavy again, you were so tired. A type of tired that sleep would not make go away.

Staring at the moon, you let its light be your only comfort, surely better days would come.

Jungkook couldn’t describe his level of worry for you, you had woken up physically fine, a minor wound to your chest where Di Jin had attempted to kill you. But you yourself were not fine.

You looked haunted, any food put in front of you was left untouched, and even if you did eat, you were unable to keep anything down.

Jungkook thought once Wheein was safe, things would get better. But it was clear to him this was hardly the case and what made it worse was you were isolating yourself now, refusing to talk to him or anyone else.

Wheein had desperately wanted to see you but Jungkook firmly sent her back to Skol demanding she take some time to herself, being in the dungeon for the last three weeks was no good for anybody mentally, especially her.

Meanwhile he was left to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened at the estate, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

He felt horrible, he wanted you to go to the estate because he thought it was safe, but as it turns out, he nearly sent you to your death. He hadn’t pushed the topic with you, left you alone if you didn’t respond.

He just wanted you to be okay, it pained him seeing you like this. 

You felt unreachable, and it made him feel as if he was literally losing his mind.

But tonight was Sunday, the day the family gathered together for dinner, Jungkook’s hopes were low but he could only hope that you would show up, he was worried and even more so at a loss of what to do, or if he could do anything at all.

You killed Di Jin. 

The Eunoian Princess, who had sworn an oath to never kill, who came from a pacifistic nation, who had divine dryad blood running through her veins, killed someone. 

And Jungkook knew you wouldn’t listen to him, it mattered not that you did it in self defense, it didn’t change the fact that you still broke your oath. Dinner had been quiet, nobody talking and this was to be expected, after all, everyone almost murdered your hand maid, you almost died, and then not only killed Di Jin, the kings oldest and dearest friend, but also Seohyun, Jungkook’s old fiancé.

Guards had gone to the estate to clean up the mess only to find her mangled body, torn apart by a wolf- namely yours.

Perhaps it wasn't directly you, but it mattered not, you would still take the guilt.

The doors opened and Jungkook straightened in his seat, you gave a short courtesy before taking your seat next to him, your eyes looked sunken in and it was evident you hadn’t slept a single night. 

Jungkook could feel it clawing at his chest with the urge to do something, anything, but he knew all too well this would be something you would have to reconcile with yourself, in your own time.

Dinner was quiet and his uncle and aunt only murmured conversation, Jungkook could only let out a quiet sigh as he lifted his goblet to his lips, wine almost never solved his problems but it did help him relax. 

“Yes, apparently a wild pack of dogs attacked Vail yesterday,” Jeong Dae’s voice was quiet, Areum’s eyes on him as she took a sip of her wine.

Their voices were the only one’s at the table that have yet to talk, after all they had always managed to keep the conversation going in these awkward events.

You were twirling your soup in its bowl, having not attempted to eat, eyes strictly somewhere between the table and your food.

“Well there needs to be more guards posted in the outer district’s now that this whole assassin business is finished,” Areum replied, leaning back in her chair, “They had four fatality’s which could’ve been prevented with adequate soldiers number’s.”

“Or perhaps we just need better soldiers,” Jeong Dae mused, “Perhaps our War Matron should make her return.”

You finally gathered a spoonful of your soup, watching the steam rise from it’s surface before you pushed it into your mouth. Jungkook wasn’t trying to stare, but it was difficult to look away when you were having to force every drop of broth down.

Areum scoffed, “Unless war is on the horizon I would rather rot. There was only one guard there, and he was passing through on his patrol.” 

You gathered another spoonful, looking at it once more as if having to mentally prepare yourself. 

“Is a shame though,” Jeong Dae sighed, “It was an absolute mess when I arrived, blood everywhere, one of the poor lad’s had his throat ripped out-”

A loud cough cut off the conversation, all eyes on you as you grabbed your mouth, lurching in your seat as if attempting to not vomit, “Excuse me.” You didn’t even so much as wait for a reply, shoving yourself out of your chair and promptly exiting. 

Jungkook was immediately pushing himself out of his chair, not even saying a word as he quickly followed after you. You probably didn’t want to see him, but he simply couldn’t stand watching you like this. 

He needed to do something, anything. 

“Y/n!” He called out as you rushed down the hall. 

You shook your head as you took a sharp left, going down the stairs towards the cellar, Jungkook quickly stepping down the stairs as he called your name once more. 

It was dark and only candles lit the air, dust could be seen if one got too close, walls of wine and dry goods stored as you turned the corner of a storage wall, weaving towards the very back where surely no one would go. 

Jungkook quickly followed behind, turning the last corner of the storage wall before he sighed out, a dead end with you at the last wall, back still turned but your sobs evident, hands covering your eyes as you tried to regain your breath but struggling to do so. 

It came out in choked wheezes as you coughed and gagged, struggling to calm yourself down, flashes of blood, images of flesh and gore, no matter how many times you washed out your mouth, you could still taste it. 

Raw flesh going down your throat. 

Jungkook finally stopped at your back, unable to find any words, he could only pull you to face him, and he hated it, how it always seemed your face was filled with tears more than smiles, “I can’t get it out!” 

You felt like a helpless child all over again, unable to help yourself let alone anyone else, but you felt so lost, you didn’t know what to do, you had all of these new feelings, all of these new sins you had to carry. 

You let out another sob as Jungkook pulled you in, and you could do nothing but collapse against him as you cried, “I can’t get the taste out! No matter- wh-what I eat, what I drink, I still taste it!” 

Jungkook only soothing hushed you, pressing his lips on top of your head, “I know.” He ushered softly, “I’m sorry.”

His arms wrapped around you tighter as you cried, resting your head into his shoulder, after a few minutes passed you had finally managed to calm your breath into steady.

“I can’t go back, I can’t undo everything I’ve done, I don’t know what to do anymore,” You tried to not weep but the tears slowly began to trickle back down your cheeks as you lamented, “My whole life i’ve been told I’m supposed to save lives,”

You pressed your hands against his jacket, looking up at him, “So why is it, all I ever seem to do is take them?” 

Jungkook tenderly cupped your cheeks in his hands, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I can’t speak for all of your past doings, but I can speak for what happened at the estate, your survival was dependent on your ability to defend yourself. You were forced to do what anybody would do.”

You shook your head in remorse, closing your eyes as you stifled a sob, Jungkook tenderly stroking your cheeks as he continued, “Humans are instinctive creatures, though you are part dryad, it seems violence runs in your veins.” 

You sniffled, “That’s terrifying! You should be terrified. Everyone looks at me differently now, certainly you do as well, I killed the woman who was supposed to be your wife!” 

Jungkook sighed, tenderly tracing your jawline with those long fingers of his, “The only thing that truly terrified me? Was when you walked through those gates covered in blood, and I realized I had unknowingly sent you to your death, unable to be there for you, unable to protect you, failing as a husband. That terrifies me.” 

Your lips trembled as Jungkook’s fingers traced down your neck to your collarbone, “But you? I told you to show me all of you, and that I would take you as you are, my words still stand.” His fingers trailed down the center of your chest, stopping at the covered wound, the mark where Di Jin had attempted to make his finishing blow. 

“How could I be afraid of someone I love?” It was nothing louder than a whisper. 

It caused your gut to wrench as you violently shook your head, “Don’t say that, please don’t say that Jungkook.” You immediately escaped his arms, every step you took back Jungkook closed the gap with another forward. 

“I don’t expect it to be requited, you don’t have to say it back Y/n but I’ve went through all stages of grief about it, I can’t change it,” Jungkook wasn’t backing down though, “I am in love with you and everything I thought I knew about love, everything I thought I knew about women, feelings, all of it, you came into my life and taught me that I was a fool to ever assume as much. I love you.” 

“Stop saying it! Please, you don’t mean that, please don’t say it so easily…”

Your back was pressed against the wall as you shook your head, Jungkook standing tall in front you, delicately leaning down, both his forearms on either side of you as he whispered, “I love you Y/n, and you will not dictate to me whether that is the truth or not. My love for you has been anything but easy, don’t discredit how I feel because I’m the first to admit it.”

“You can’t love me,” You whispered, eyes blurring once more as flashes of Seohyun’s mangled body appeared in your vision. 

“Loving you is like loving the sun,” Jungkook replied softly, “Effortless, and if I’m meant to burn in its light, then I'd die happily in doing so. My precious sun, the light of my life. Let me love you, let me take care of you, let me protect you, let me never leave your side again.”

“Jungkook…”

“I failed you, let you leave my side, sent you to the estate. It’s ultimately my own fault, and I’ll spend the rest of my life redeeming myself for it. But please, don’t punish me anymore,” Jungkook’s eyes sombered, a sort of tender plea in them, “I can’t be apart from you anymore, I’ve tried to give you space, time to think, to heal, but just as you need me, I need you. I need you just like the moon needs the sun.” 

You had no words, unable to speak, overwhelmed by so many different feelings, but one thing you knew for certain was that when you looked at Jungkook, you felt at home. You said nothing, only gently laying your forehead in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around him. 

Trying to drown out the voices, the memories in his warmth, you were so terribly homesick, and Jungkook was surely your only remedy to this. 

His arms wrapped around you in return, holding you tightly as he pressed a kiss against your head, “It’s selfish, but please, don’t deny me, love me, lay with me, we’re married, but I want you to be my wife.”

“Take me back to our bedroom.” You whispered to him, curling into his warmth as you shuddered, trying so hard to not let the vivid grotesque images back into your mind. 

There was nothing quite like the warmth a bath could offer, steaming wafting from heat and dipping your body in made you realize just how chilled you had become throughout the day. Perhaps the best part was sitting perched in your husband’s lap, head laying on his shoulder as he tended to you.

The warmth of the washcloth running along your body, his hands that had easily taken tens if not hundreds of lives tenderly running through your hair as he washed you, he of course didn’t miss the opportunity to feather your neck in kisses. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded wanting nothing more than for him to keep making you forget, you didn’t want to remember anymore. 

Jungkook was still tenderly cleaning you up, lips occasionally going back to your neck with a few gentle kisses and eventually after bathing you both settled in the water, just enjoying one another’s embrace. 

His fingers tracing circles on your back before running down your waist, squeezing your ass for a moment before his hand would return back up your waist, touching you however he wanted, simply because he could. 

It was a comforting gesture, but it was also evident how aroused you both were, every time his hand would dip under the water, it made your body just a little more excited, feeling his hand gripping your flesh tightly, making you shift a little and the first tiniest audible moan escaping your lips. 

You could feel it briefly, his hardened cock resting against his chiseled abdomen, Jungkook’s lips pressed against your neck once more, this time suckling the skin as his other hand trailing down your waist before gripping the other side of your ass. 

A soft moan escaped your lips, making your hips shift, nudging his cock once more making his lips suckle your skin a little harder, he released the skin after a moment, as if not wanting to mark it, “Let me make you feel good, my little sun.”

His fingers digging into your skin, his tongue dragging on your neck, “Please.” You ushered out a small moan. 

Jungkook’s hand’s suddenly grabbed your waist, “Hold on,” He said and you didn’t understand for a moment until he suddenly picked you up, bringing you out of the water, grabbing one of the towels from off the stool he laid it out on the bed to not get it wet before dropping you down. 

The fire crackled on, the only light source in the room, leaving it dark and warm, but the silhouette of Jungkook’s body was still very evident, his hard cock even more so as he stood tall in front of your figure. 

You felt so small in comparison in this moment, but it didn’t last long as Jungkook leaned down, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, lips pressing into yours as if he could sense your anxiousness, your body was so pliable though, having his hovering over you protectively. You moaned into the kiss, body relaxing as one of his hands found your thighs, pushing them apart tenderly as you opened them for him.

Your cunt was throbbing and wet, eager to be touched by him as Jungkook broke the kiss, letting his tongue drag down your throat and to your collarbone before he feathered more kisses, pausing at your breasts. 

Jungkook couldn’t resist wrapping his lips around your left tit, this forced a moan from you, hips shifting in need as a hand steady them, as if telling you to be patient, he traded for your right tit next, moaning softly against your skin as if relishing in it. 

“Jungkook…!” You whined softly, watching the explicit sight, your thighs spreading a little more in need. 

Jungkook’s eyes almost glowed in the dark, that icy blue piercing gaze, hazy and filled with lust as he released your tit from his lips, a small lazy smirk tugging on his lips, “Yes, my love?” 

It felt like knots were forming in your stomach, “Love me, you keep saying it, show me how it feels.” 

Jungkook gave you a small smile, “You don’t need to ask me twice.” His lips pressed down your stomach and your body was reacting in all the ways he could hope as he made his way down to your hips, tenderly, slowly, licking up every reaction he got before he settled himself between your thighs. 

Still he seemed to enjoy getting you worked up, lips pressing against your inner thigh making you squirm, your cunt dripping wet as you whined, “Jungkook!” 

His tongue dragged just a little closer to where you wanted it, “What do we say when we want something?” 

“Please…!” 

Jungkook moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your cunt making you let out a moan of relief, his hot wet tongue mixing with your arousal as he pressed against your little opening before dragging it up your slit, right where you wanted it. 

You moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your clit, you shifted onto your forearm, your other hand reaching down to bury in his wet dark locks of hair, his tongue swirling around the tender bud as pleasure shot through your body making your thighs open further for him.

His eyes closed as he moaned against your clit, wrapping his lips around it as if suckling something sweet, it made a sharp whine escape you as you yanked his hair hips lifting for him. 

“Mm Jungkook.” You ushered out softly as his lips parted, tongue lathing against the little bud that had you squirming in pleasure. 

“Relax my love,” Jungkook moaned into your cunt, “Let me make you cum as many times as you please.” 

His fingers snuck down to your cunt as his lips wrapped back around your clit making you whine, his tongue having found a particularly sweet spot that had you grabbing his hair.

His fingers toyed with your little hole at first, letting them get nice and sticky from your arousal before he pushed a digit in, your body immediately reacted, walls clenching around him as a strangled whine left you. 

His lips parted as his tongue lathed your clit, continuously flicking the sweet spot of your bud as you whimpered, your cunt throbbing in pleasure as his finger began to pump inside you, “Relax princess, I got you,” Jungkook’s lidded eyes met yours, and briefly you could see his finger, knuckle deep in your cunt. 

As if noticing this as well a small smirk curled on his lip as he pulled it out, before gathering both his middle and ring finger, pushing it back inside you, it made you wince a little in discomfort, “Shh, give your body to me, I’ll take care of it my love,” Jungkook moaned softly, his cock was rock hard at watching you moan and wither beneath him in pleasure.

Your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as he thrusted them inside you, his lips tenderly pressing into your thigh to soothe you as your body slowly relaxed just as he said.

Your hips slowly lifted in sync with his as you whined, Jungkook buried himself back in your cunt once more, tongue lapping at your little clit, getting the exact reaction he had hoped. 

A loud cry escape you, thighs suddenly wrapping around his head just the way he wanted them too, wanting to be suffocated by your cunt and nothing else, his fingers immediately began pumping rougher inside you as you whined unable to keep yourself supported anymore as you collapsed back against the bed. 

“Koo! Mmm! Please Koo!” Your words were mumbled and whiny as his tongue viciously swirled and suckled your throbbing bud, his fingers suddenly lifting inside you as if in search for something. 

Pleasure was becoming more consistent, more intense as Jungkook's moan vibrated against your clit and his fingers pushing all the way inside you as they lifted once more, the pleasure that suddenly snapped through your body was indescribable, a loud whimper escaping you. 

His name came in shambled shorter variations as you whined and moaned, your walls rapidly squeezing around his fingers as he kept thrusting into the same spot again and again.

Jungkook kept lapping at your clit, finding that sweet spot once more as you withered beneath him, back arching as your mind blurred with pleasure, “Oh..! Oh god, please! Yes! Mmm!” 

Your voice echoed throughout the bedroom loudly as fits of moans  escaped your mouth, lips parted at just how good you felt, “Cum for me, cum all over my fingers sweetheart,” Jungkook moaned before his lips parted against your clit, lazily rubbing into that little spot as his fingers ruthlessly rubbed into that spot inside you. 

And you did. 

Your walls rapidly wrapped around his fingers as he kept shoving them inside you, his tongue attached to your bud, milking your orgasm as unholy noises escaped your lips, mixtures of thanks, of his name, cries to the empty sky. 

It just kept going, the pleasure only heightened as you squealed out, hands digging into his hair as his tongue swirled over your clit, fingers refusing to stop as they hit that same spot inside you over and over again. 

It had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your thighs trembling as you completely gave your body up to him, relaxing into the building sensation inside your cunt as your walls kept squeezing around his fingers, his tongue not stopping on your clit as he suckled it once more. 

His tongue finding just the right spot as it all spiked once more, your moans were shaky and cried out as blind pleasure washed over you once more, cumming all over his fingers but not only that liquid suddenly spewing lewdly from your little hole. 

“Fuuck,” Jungkook moaned, lifting your hips suddenly as his fingers abused your little entrance, hitting that spot over and over again as your body withered against him, “Such a good girl.” 

His fingers finally pulled out of your cunt, your thighs trembling as he set you down, moaning as he kissed your thighs, hands dragging against your waist, “Fuck, I want you so bad sweetheart, wanna fill you up, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.” 

You were heaving deep breathes, trying to comprehend the pleasure you just experienced, you were hazy still as your hand tenderly combed through his hair, “Then do so…” You gazed at him, hazey and the darkness made it difficult to make out his expression, “You said you wanted me to be your wife, then make me your wife.” 

Jungkook’s gaze shot up to you as you weakly smiled, “I want you to be my husband, but we’ve never consummated it. I want to.” 

Jungkook moaned softly, his cock throbbing as he crawled up to you, arms hovering on either side of you as he stared down at you, “You mean it?” 

“Of course I do,” You whispered, hands creeping up his neck and back to his hair once more, pulling him down for a kiss that he would never deny you. 

Jungkook moaned softly into the kiss before he broke it, pressing a kiss against your neck, “It’ll hurt,” He whispered, “But I’ll make sure it doesn’t last long.” 

Jungkook shifted you further up the bed as he sat on his knees, between your thighs as you parted them for him, feeling nervous, but you felt so safe with him, you wanted him, craved him. Jungkook’s fingers brushed over your cunt, puffy and wet as you shuddered. 

His hand was soaked in your arousal as before he wrapped it around his cock, just as big and fat as you remembered. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pumped his cock in his hand, it made you feel shy as you shifted beneath him. 

“Are you sure?” He murmured, you nodded. 

Grabbing your thighs he pulled you closer to him before he grabbed his cock once more, rubbing the fat weeping head of his cock against your cunt as you let out a shaky exhale, you knew he was big but…he was really big compared to you.

Just the size of his head was nearly as big as your cunt itself, “Jungkook I don’t…-”

“It’ll fit.” He reassured, a little amused, pulling the head of his cock to your little entrance before attempting to push it in. 

You winced in pain as you shifted, you weren’t sure how you expected this to go, it really wasn’t something you had ever fantasized about. But the first attempt was lackluster due to the fact that he indeed was not getting it in.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “Ugh fuck. Hold on,” He whispered, shifting a little more, setting your thighs a top of his a little more, lining his cock back up to your entrance as he pushed once more. 

He pushed the fat head of his cock against your entrance once more, this time however, you let out a yelp, the sensation almost burning as you shifted in discomfort against him, “Ah…! Fuck that hurts.” You let out a weak whine, biting down on your lip hard. 

And it did, all you could focus on was how much it ached and burned having your walls pushed open by something so large and foreign.

Jungkook leaned down, arms on either side of you as he pressed feathery kisses into your neck, “I’m sorry, my love,” His whisper was strained, “Just let yourself relax, it won’t last long.” He let out a slight shaky moan as he pushed himself just a little deeper inside you.

You tried to let yourself relax as much as possible, but your brows were still pinching together and it was difficult for it to not hurt when he was just really that big. 

Jungkook suddenly pulled out of you making you sigh in relief, Jungkook pressed another comforting kiss against your neck as he pushed the head of his cock back inside, only this time, it wasn’t nearly as painful, a little discomfort of having something foreign inside your body. 

But it wasn’t nearly as bad, Jungkook’s muscles were completely tensed and his breath was shaky as he buried his face into your neck with a moan, “Fuck sweetheart, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” 

Jungkook his deep raspy words in your ear made your walls squeeze around him, making him push a little deeper inside you as you let out a soft whine, shifting your hips as if trying to take more of him. 

Jungkook could feel this, immediately pushing his cock deeper inside you, “Oh my god,” He whispered, “Fucking perfect, perfect cunt, perfect body, perfect for me. Look at that little cunt, taking me so well.” 

You whined at his hips thrusting a little, as if testing the water’s, “Koo…mmm!” Your eyes snapped shut at feeling his cock splitting your walls open, hitting all the right places.

Jungkook moaned as his hips slowly began to thrust, his cock still not fully inside you but with each thrust it got a little closer, “Feels so warm, so little, fuck, keep wrapping around me like that love.” 

His shaft rubbed right into that sweet spot that had you moaning, legs wrapping around his waist, your cunt felt so full and yet wanted so much more, Jungkook’s hips were becoming a little faster, “Such a perfect cunt, mine. All mine.” There was a hint of possessiveness in his words. 

Your hands dug in his hair, “All yours.” You whimpered out quietly as your body started jolting, his hips becoming rougher at the words, “Your cunt, yours.” 

Jungkook let out a rough moan, deep and raw as if those words made him all hot and bothered, “Fuck yeah it is,” He suddenly growled in your ear, “You’re my fuckin’ wife, my cunt to play with, my cunt to make cum again and again. Mine.” 

You suddenly whimpered at feeling his cock going deeper inside you, your eyes shutting as you moaned for him, knowing he wanted to hear them, knowing how much he liked to see you in pleasure, “Mmm! Like that.” 

“Oh? Like this?” He smirked against your skin as he thrusted particularly harsh, his cock going deep inside you once more, your walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned, nails dragging against his back. 

“What about this?” He murmured in your ear, pushing his hips all the way until they met yours, his cock completely buried in your warm little cunt as you shakily moaned, eyes squeezing shut at how deep he was inside, how thick and fat his cock was, completely splitting open your walls. 

“Mmm fuck, yeah.” You ushered softly, creaming all over his cock, arousal coating it as your walls squeezed around him, you had finally found heaven, it was Jungkook buried inside your cunt. 

Jungkook moaned as well, feeling how tight your walls squeezed around him in pleasure, as if suddenly starved Jungkook grabbed your thigh, bringing it over his shoulder as his hips shifted, rapidly thrusting into you as you yelped in surprise. 

But pleasure was immediately blooming side you, his shaft rubbing all the right spots, balls slapping against your skin as you whimpered for him, “Oh! Right there, yeah! Yes, god…!” 

Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, squeeze around me baby, know you wanna cum on it, cum all over this fat cock, gonna fill you up until your dripping.” 

Your hips lifted with his, moaning at how good it felt, his cock roughly dragging in and out of you, pushing your walls open with each thrust, “Mmm wanna cum all over it.” 

Jungkook moaned, thrusting particularly hard this time making you whine before he suddenly shifted, letting go of your thigh as he suddenly sat up right, but dragging you with him, his cock pulling out of you as you whined. 

Thighs trembled and uncertain of this new position as Jungkook sat you in his lap, immediately grabbing his cock as he pushed it back inside you, except you were a little awkward, “Mm Koo I don’t-”

“Like this love.” Jungkook moaned, grabbing your hips as he lifted them, this new position made you feel him in an entirely new way, your lips parting as an involuntary moan escaped you, trying to mimick the way his hips guided you. 

Sliding down his cock as you moaned, feeling how deep he was inside you, your walls rapidly clenched, Jungkook’s hands tightened around your ass, “Fuck yeah sweetheart, can feel you wrapping around it, cum.” His head suddenly dove down, lips parting on your right tit as he suckled it harshly making you cry out, walls clenching around him as you lowered your hips all the way down. 

Your arousal dripping on his balls as he lifted you, fucking you on his cock as you whined pathetically, not of much use when he fucked you like this, his lips suckled your tit harshly once more, “Cum,” He growled, his hand suddenly smacking your right ass cheek making you yelp. 

Your body however, loved that feeling of pain, your cunt squeezing around his cock as he roughly bounced you on it, “Like that? Like getting spanked sweetheart?” Jungkook grinned deviously, suddenly smacking your ass even harder, your body reacting to it as your walls clenched harder around him. 

“Mmm! M’ gonna cum..Koo!” You whimpered out, all the sensations overwhelming you as Jungkook continued to bounce you on his cock, pushing you deeper on him as he smacked your ass once more, this time hitting just under the cheek, the pain mixed with the pleasure as you moaned loud, walls squeezing rapidly around his cock. 

Your lips parted as you came all over his fat shaft, being bounced roughly as Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, thats it princess,” Jungkook moaned, wrapping his around around your waist as he laid back on the bed, bring you with him a top as his hips lifted, rapidly thrusting up inside you, this orgasm was much deeper, more powerful as he continued to bottom out inside you making sure he was completely buried inside you.

“Fuck my love, that’s it.” Jungkook ushered a moan, you felt it before you heard it, something indescribably warm shooting deep inside your cunt, “Mm that’s it, take it like the good girl you are.” 

You let out the tiniest whine, burying your head in his shoulder as he let out a deep sigh of contentment, relishing in his orgasm, how long had he imagined holding you like this?

His lips tugged into a lopsided smile as his eyes opened, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world, as if in deep admiration, love.

You supposed that look in his eyes, could only be described adequate as love, “My goddess,” He mused, fingers trailing your face, his hand trailed down your side before grabbing your hand, the skin discolored in large patches. 

Jungkook pressed his lips against the palm before tenderly planting a kiss on each finger, the gesture was so full of love it made your eyes fill with tears that did not shed, his lips pressed against your wrist, “The love of my life, I know I cannot change the past,”

Jungkook laid you both on your side as he wrapped his arm around you, “But we will get through this together.”

You weren’t sure what it was, the earnest look in his eyes, the pure devotion in his voice, but you believed him, you wholeheartedly believed him, “We will.” You whispered back, leaning in to press your lips against his.

It was filled with nothing but sweetness, tenderly pressing over yours as he let out a soft moan, his hand finding its home around your neck, not squeezing but simply holding it, “My wife.” He moaned against the kiss, “My beautiful wife. I don’t think there will ever be a day I don’t love you. Sleep, and if you wake, I’ll be here to hold you.” 

Sleep did not come easily, Jungkook had managed to get you both under the warm covers, scaring off whatever little coldness that had tickled your skin, the last hour before he fell asleep had been silent, his fingers tracing circles against your back, enjoying one another's warmth. 

You had eventually fell asleep but dreams you could not remember had plagued you back awake, your eyes were tired but you could see blue light streaming in from the window, it wouldn’t be long before your day would begin. 

Still, you laid dozing off enjoying your Jungkook who hadn’t let go of you the whole time, skin to skin contact soothing, you had rolled onto your stomach, letting the weight of his body near on top of you soothe your eyes back shut. 

Shifting a little to get comfortable this must have accidentally awoke him as you felt a gentle kiss press on your shoulder a sleepy groan escape his lips, “How long have you been awake?” He mumbled, his voice quiet, deeper and raspier than normal. 

“...Not too long, I’ve woken up multiple times though.” You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you felt his hand slowly stroke your waist. 

You would never say it out loud, but you could definitely get use to being petted like this.

“You should’ve woke me up,” Jungkook pressed another kiss against your skin, this time your neck, “Let us lay together in silence.” 

“We could be laying in silence right now.” You offered a tiny tired smile though you weren’t sure he could see it. 

“We could.” Jungkook murmured, his lips pressing onto your neck once more, this time parting as his tongue tenderly lapped over your skin, the act itself made your breath hitch, body stirring as you tilted your head, letting him have more access to your skin. 

You kept your eyes closed, allowing him to give you open mouthed kisses over your neck, not too long in each spot to be mindful of marking, his tongue delicately tracing over each patch just enough to tease. 

It seemed he finally got what he wanted out of you, a tiny moan as he shifted you both, now spooning you, your bare ass promptly snug against his hard cock, his lips suckling the skin of your neck as his hand snaked over your waist, grabbing a handful of your tit as he pinched your nipple. 

You whined as you rubbed back against him a little, this made his hand immediately grab your hip, squeezing it to stay still before it hooked over your thigh to lift it, your cunt glossy and wet, dried cum staying your thighs no doubt. 

Your face felt hot and flush and suddenly the covers that had kept you warm were like an inferno, Jungkook shifted, grabbing his cock as he let his fat weeping head rub along your puffy slit. 

A small breath escaped you as he rubbed it over your sensitive clit before back to your little entrance, and then pushing it in, your brows pinched together in discomfort, his size still big for your body to adjust too. 

“Shhh,” He whispered against your neck, moaning softly as his hips started thrusting, his cock pushing further inside you as you whined, “Fuck, can’t believe this pussy is all mine,” Jungkook ushered quietly, “Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to cum inside. Mine.” 

You moaned against the pillow, your walls squeezing tight around his cock as he thrusted further inside you before pushing all the way in, his shaft rubbing just the right way inside you, “Mmm, Jungkook.” You moaned quietly. 

You could feel his wicked smirk on your skin, hips suddenly thrusting rough up into you, his cock throbbing as his balls smacked against your skin, “Moan my name, only mine. Want everyone to hear, to know how good I fuck you.” 

You bit down on your lip at his hips thrusting at a steady but rough pace, each time pulling almost out of you only to shove all the way back in, the fat head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you each time. 

“That's right sweetheart, cream all over it, wanna feel this pretty little cunt cum all over my cock,” Jungkook moaned in your ear, that deep rasp in his voice had your clit throbbing and your walls wrapping around him as you whined. 

Overwhelmed by how big he was, how good it felt you nearly cried out at the feeling of his cock pulling out of you, your muscles tensed as your eyes snapped open at being robbed of your pleasure. 

Jungkook had a sleepy smirk on his face as he sat upright against the headboard, pulling the covers off to reveal his fat, proud cock, glossy with your arousal as he offered you a hand, “Come sit on your throne my goddess.” 

Your body felt hot in all kinds of ways as you took his hand before slowly crawled to him, Jungkook however manhandled you to sit on his lap, your back pressing into his chest as he pried your thighs apart, the position was all too familiar as you whined. 

“Jungkook…!” 

“Remember what I said last time?” Jungkook pressed a long kiss against your neck, shifting you as he grabbed his cock, gleaming coated in your arousal as he pushed the head back inside you, an audible moan from you echoing in the room as you watched in arousal and horror at how much he was splitting your cunt. 

Your body could do nothing but sink down on it, whines and whimpers escaping you once again at just how thick his cock was, finally meeting the base as your body rested against his, Jungkook however had different plans, grabbing your thighs to lift them a little as he suddenly starting thrusting. 

His fast pace took you off guard as you gurgled a moan, eyes unable to look at anything except his cock pulling in and out of your cunt, covered in slick arousal as you felt his shaft squeezing past your soft warm walls each time, hitting up into your sweet spot that had you moaning. 

“You like watching?” Jungkook grinned, a breathy moan escaping him as his chin rested on your shoulder, eyes hazy as he watched his cock push all the way inside you, “Like being made to take this big fat cock while being made to watch.”

Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut at how hard your walls suddenly clenched around him, taking everything in him to not cum this very moment, “You’re so fucking little,” He groaned, fingers digging into your thighs, “Love feeling that pretty little cunt wrap around me, heh yeah like that fuuck.” 

His fingers found your clit rubbing them as you yelped out, walls rapidly clenching around him in a feeling that he was quickly starting to familiarize himself with, it made his cock throb in pleasure as he lifted once more, shifting you both a little so you laid back more against his chest, thrusting harder and faster this time as he pressed your clit between his fingers. 

“Mmph! Koo-! Fuck, ah! Yes! Oh god, like that, please! Please!” Moans escaped you incohesively, surrendering your body to him as he fucked you roughly, hips snapping up into yours, his cock stretching out your walls each time. 

Jungkook’s fingers toyed with your throbbing clit, “Thats it, moan, let them know who’s taking care of this pretty pussy, who’s filling you up with cock right now,” His hips drilling into you as he watched his cock snap in and out of your cunt each time, “Look, watch.” He growled in your ear. 

Your eyes opened as you moaned, your cunt puffy and wet, stretching for him with more ease now than before, Jungkook’s hips slowed down, “You like watching yourself get fucked?” 

Your throat felt dry and your body hot as his hips sensually moved, slower, deeper, making sure you felt every thrust of his hips as his cock buried deep in your cunt, “Answer.” 

“Yes,” You stammered, whining a little at his cock burying inside you once more but this time not pulling out immediately after, “Like watching.” You whined quietly. 

Jungkook had a wicked grin on his lips, “You like it? Being fucked by the wicked prince?” His thrusts were short, keeping his cock as deep inside you as he could, your walls clenched at the short snapped sensation, “Like it when I cum deep inside this pretty virgin cunt of yours?”

Pleasure was building rapidly in your body, your walls squeezing tightly around him each time, watching his long thick fingers rub into your clit, finding that sweet little spot that had you gasping a whine.

“Yes, yeah, fuck, mmm! Fuck Koo, gonna…!” Your body was contorting as his cock pushed all the way inside you once more.

“I remember that little mouth of yours our wedding night, remember wanting nothing more then to bend you over and stuff you full of cock,” Jungkook moaned, hips becoming sloppy, thrusts uneven, some slow, some rough, “Fuck you so hard all you’d be able to do was thank me. But look at you now.” 

Jungkook smiled against your shoulder, “My pretty wife letting me fuck her tiny little cunt, letting me ruin the little virgin dryad princess. Fuck yeah, that’s it, cum all over it my love. Cum all over this cock.”

You were moaning so loud, surely people out in the halls could hear, and it only turned Jungkook on further, his cock buried inside you with the need to make sure you kept moaning, needing others to hear, to know that you were his. 

His thrusts were short, keeping buried deep in your cunt as his fingers kept rubbing into the sweet spot of your clit, your walls rapidly clenching around his base as he buried into you once more before you came. 

Jungkook let out a loud moan as your walls squeezed him so tight he was unable to thrust, pleasure was contorting in every part of your body as you came all over his cock just as he wanted, your clit throbbing in pleasure as Jungkook tenderly rubbed into it, milking every last bit of pleasure he could.

“God I love the way your cunt wraps around me,” He murmured, eyes tightly shut at the sensation, what he had dreamed of for so long now, the feeling of your cunt squeezing tight around him, begging to be filled with his cum. 

The feeling was still foreign, having something warm and slightly sting as it roped inside you, his hands squeezing your thighs tight as he came, moaning softly in your shoulder, you both were heaving breathes.

Jungkook pressed a flutter of light kisses against your neck, fingers tracing your thighs, is fingerprints still prominent in them, “So that’s what you meant…” 

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed out, nose nudging your neck in a loving manner, his fingers tracing over the skin that was slowly discoloring. 

“You…once told me bruising could be attractive, is this what you meant?” You whispered, voice raspy a little humored. 

You could feel the tiny smile on your neck, “Maybe. Maybe not, do you find it attractive?” 

“Do you?” 

Jungkook’s fingers continued to trace over the marks, “When they’re mine,” He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, “They’re the most attractive.”

You had gotten distracted though, his cock slipping out of you and cum oozing from your entrance you squirmed in discomfort, your face felt warm at the lewd sight.

“Mmm, that’s even more attractive though,” Jungkook moaned softly, his index finger scooping it back up before pushing it back in making you squirm.

“Jungkook…!” You whined out, immediately closing your legs.

He chuckled as he pressed a kiss against your head, “Let me grab a washcloth and get you cleaned up.” 

Jungkook shuffled you out of his lap before standing up with a groan, grabbing his undershort that had never gotten worn last night as he put them on, grabbing a washcloth from the stool, walking back over to bed where you had shuffled, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed as you sat naked on his bed.

It didn’t matter if you both had just finished laying together and his cum dripped between your thighs. 

Jungkook looked down at you for a long moment before a smile curled on his lips, “Are you going to let me see?”

“I…can clean myself.” You replied flustered, unable to look at those pretty blue eyes of his. 

“What kind of partner would I be if I made you do that?” Jungkook snorted, grabbing your legs as he pulled you closer, it made you squeak now at the edge of the bed.

You thighs parting only a little for him, but he had quickly made it more as he pulled them further apart, his tongue grazing his lips at the sight before the warm wet cloth dragged over your thighs, his hands were attentive and gentle as he cleaned you up. 

Jungkook had gotten himself halfway dressed and had just gotten your slip on just in time for the timely knock on the door, Taehyun’s voice on the otherside.

Jungkook had allowed him to come in, bowing to you both before going to Jungkook’s wardrobe, “Would you like for me to send for a maid to help the Princess?” Taehyun asked, you could tell he had to have known something was up but obviously not about to ask. 

“No,” Jungkook replied, leaving your side as he walked over to Taehyun, “I’ll help her get ready for the day.” 

Taehyun said nothing more aside from going over the duties Jungkook would need to attend today as he got him dressed, you had fidgeted in bed, eyes glancing at the window as light began to filter in, brighter than usual. 

You would be expected to carry out your duties today as well, the rebuilding of the market had slowed down since winter had approached and Jeong Dae had warned you the building would be very slow in the winter, but to be patient. 

You also had to meet with a few noble houses today to discuss resources once more, just the idea exhausted you. It had been nearly a week since the incident and yet it felt as though a day hadn’t past. 

You hadn’t even noticed when the door had been shut. 

“You’re in your head again.” Jungkook frowned, staring down at you, fully dressed in black today.

“So much has happened since we married,” You frowned as you looked at the window once more, “It’s difficult to not these days.” 

You parted your lips but no words came, uncertain of how to express your feelings, Jungkook patiently waited as he turned away from you walking to your wardrobe, most of your clothes had been taken out, but evidently he had somehow managed to keep most of your winter wardrobe here. 

“I knew it would be difficult, when we married and I would move here, leaving my land behind. I had two years of mental preparation for what may happen,” You sighed softly as you glanced at your hands, flipping them over to look at your discolored palms, “I had mainly prepared myself to be killed here. And yet…somehow, it never occured to me that living might possibly be worse. That living and yet, unable to recognize myself, would be a thousand times worse than death.”

You felt alienated from yourself, perhaps deep down you always knew you were capable of murder, the rage so deep in your bones that certainly it would strike a god down, but to have done it? 

To go against everything your nation stood for? The oath you had so proudly taken as a little girl, your mothers eyes beaming down at you with pride. 

Jungkook set the material out on the bed he had gathered before kneeling down in front of you, gently taking your hands in his, “Or perhaps this is just another side of you, something different, something new, change is uncomfortable. Growth is painful. I remember my first time…” 

Your eyes slowly moved, meeting his as he frowned, “I was nothing more than a child, holding a sword too big, he was a grown man. It was one of our drill sergeants in training, he had despised the Jeon name and had taken to treating me as nothing more then dirt beneath his boots.”

Jungkook sighed, “He had been ruthlessly sparring with me, going as far as kicking me into the ground well past my attempt of surrender. And then he stopped, and just stared at him before laughing, saying I was pathetic, that I’d never live a day in battle. And like that he just turned his back and walked away.” 

Jungkook’s eyes dropped, “I don’t even know what possessed me, but he kept laughing as he called out to his little friend that he was done with the Jeon Scum, suddenly I had unsheathed the dagger in my hand and ran at him.” 

“And?” You whispered out.

Jungkook shrugged, “I don’t remember much of it anymore, I’ve been told I stabbed him over fourteen times though, I was covered in blood by the end of it and I only remember crying in the bathtub while washing myself.” 

Your heart painfully squeezed for him, he couldn’t have been older than ten? Nobody would ever be fit to kill, let alone a child, “Were there consequences?” 

Jungkook shook his head, “Areum had given me a light slap on the wrist, extra watch duty, less rations, things of that nature. But being the prince gave me certain privilege,” He a bitter smile grew on his face, “I think that was the first time my father ever told me he was proud of me. Said I had great promise on the battlefield and that I was meant to rule.” 

“You say it with such disdain.” You frowned. 

Jungkook sighed as he stood up, grabbing the dress he had picked out for you, a purple dress with long thick velvet sleeves, the material was sheer and thin but he had grabbed a thick under slip to pair with it. 

Jungkook pulled the slip over your head, “Do you want my honest words on it?” 

“Of course I do.” You whispered out, eyes meeting his as he pulled the material down. 

“I’ve never had the desire to rule,” Jungkook said it no more than a whisper, “I don’t want the crown, I don’t want to be king.” He ushered it as if it was a crime, but suddenly he looked a little relieved as if this was the first he had ever voiced it, “I don’t want those responsibilities that come with it…”

Jungkook held your dress in his hands as his brows furrowed, “...I don’t want to be like my father.”

He spoke it as if that was the underlying reason, you stood up in front of him before wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him, “You’re nothing like him.” You whispered out, his hands wrapping around you as he squeezed you tight, nose burying in your hair. 

Jungkook broke away only a little as his forehead pressed against yours, “But then I think about you, crown on top of your head, the way you visit the outer districts, redistribute what's left that the royals waste, how you sacrificed something so sacred to you…” His hand grabbed your own, pulling it towards his lips as he pressed a kiss against your palm, “And I think about how you were made to be a queen, and if I were to rule by your side…then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” 

“Truthfully?” You whispered back, looking up at him with a soft smile, “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m with you.”

Jungkook only smiled, fingers tracing your neck as he gave a flutter of kisses to the palm of your hand before he let go of you, grabbing the gown as he helped you change, tentatively lacing the back of your dress before turning you around. 

A sort of satisfied look on his face as if he had made the right choice, “Leave your hair down today, it looks nice like this.” 

“Jungkook…” You gave him a look, you felt incomplete if you didn’t have your hair braided or styled at all. 

“Indulge me today.” Jungkook replied with a sort of saccharine dripping off his tongue you had never heard before, pulling the velvet gloves over your hands.

You hated how much he had so easily convinced you as you sighed, shaking your head, “Very well, anything else.” 

He nodded walking to your jewelry box once more, “I didn’t say anything, but it didn’t mean that I didn’t notice.” Jungkook walked back over to you, gently grabbing your left hand lifting it up as he held out the large black ring, your wedding ring, “Wear it with pride.” 

Jungkook slid it on your ring finger making you smile as you glanced down at it, you had worn it a few times in the past, but it felt different letting him put it on you.

Your lips slowly fell though, “...I’m not ready for today.” You whispered out, Jungkook had been completely taken you away from your sickening thoughts for the last twelve hours, and soon you would have to return to reality. 

Jungkook frowned as his fingers traced along your neck, “It’ll be over soon my love.” He ushered quietly before leaning in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips, your eyes closing as you leaned into his warm touch, fingers curling around your throat as you let out the softest moan. 

Jungkook refused to let this go further though, letting his hand drop as he broke the kiss, “If the day gets hard, you know where to find me.” 

Your day had become tones of gray, monotonous without having even realized it, your mind was elsewhere and nobles had looked at you with mixed reactions, some in fear, some in disgust. After all, they had all seen you, seen what you had done, what you were capable of.

You had been hold up in the library the last hour and a half though, reading up on some of the policies for building that had a headache beginning to turn up in your head.

Flipping the page you had went to drink your tea only to find it ice cold, the fire crackled at the far end of the library, but here in the nook you had found it towards the window was cold. 

Time had passed more than you had realized when you found your husband standing at the front of the table, looking at you expectantly. 

You glanced up from your book, “Are you finished with your duties already?” He usually worked later than this.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “I’ve been done for over an hour, it’s nearing seven Y/n.” 

Your eyes widened as you glanced out the window, realizing it was dark outside before you looked back at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t even realize…”

Jungkook rounded the table, fingers dragging to your book before shutting it, “Enough of burying yourself in work.”

You frowned before you glanced up at him, “Do you have something in mind for us then?”

“Dinner,” Jungkook replied with a tilt of his head, “But first come, we should check on Fenrir and…you’ll enjoy the walk.” 

You took the hand he offered you before hooking onto his arm as you both walked down the hall, it was a quiet night but the glances maids and nobles alike didn’t surpass you, the looks never went away. 

You tried your best to ignore them as you entered to the courtyard, lips parting as you both stepped out.

Large fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky, almost shimmering against firelight as they softly landed on the ground, small piles of powder already forming as you looked around, enchanted at the sight, “It’s snowing…!” Your lips twisted into a smile, “I’ve never seen snowflakes so large…” 

Jungkook’s eyes softened on you as he smiled, “I figured so, it’s our first of many snowfall to come this winter. I thought you might like to see it.” 

Jungkook had led you down to the stables but your eyes were still captivated by the sky, filled with little white puffs that gracefully landed onto the ground, a loud whine however brought you back as you frowned. 

“Oh my sweet boy,” You ushered out softly at the sight of seeing Fenrir limp towards you, large tail wagging behind him as you reached out for his face, tenderly rubbing his snout before planting a kiss atop his head, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you today.” 

“I saw him this morning, I let him loose while watching the guards spar,” Jungkook said, “He’s healing, by the time we travel for Yule he’ll be good as new.” 

He reached out, giving a firm pat to Fenrir’s side, “We’ll be taking him with us?” You glanced back at him in surprise. 

“Wolves will be roaming for food no doubt by the time we leave, it would be most safe to have him with us to scare off any predators.” Jungkook replied with a nod, “...He’s also bound to you, the grief he’d give royal staff would be something I’d never hear the end of from my father.” 

You gave him a guilty smile, “I wouldn’t want to part with him either.” Fenrir had managed to lick your face causing a quiet giggle to escape you as you leaned away from him, lovingly stroking his neck. 

You had gone inside his pen to straighten out his blankets and to pull out one more thicker one, now that it was snowing you were certain the winter nights would be long and cold, you truly did wish the castle would let him stay inside. 

After spending a few minutes with Fenrir you let out a soft sigh, wishing to not have to depart from him so soon, but your duties had kept you all day, and tomorrow would most likely not be much better. 

Fenrir as if sensing this let out a whine, his ears flattening against his head and his tail fell, “Don’t look like that,” You whispered out, your heart aching for him as you rubbed his ears, “I’ll be back tomorrow, and maybe Jungkook will let you out again.”

“We’ll see,” Jungkook replied neutral, “Inside Fenrir.” 

It was a soft command the Fenrir hesitated to listen too, “Inside.” Jungkook repeated more firm making the wolf whine once more as he went back into his pen, making circles before he laid down, another high pitched whine escaping him. 

“I’ll be back soon.” You whispered before kissing his head once more, closing his gate as you tried to not let his whines make you sad. 

Jungkook had extended his elbow out to you once more as you took it, sighing with a frown as you gave the pen one last look, “It’s only a day, he’ll survive.” 

“I still don’t know why we can’t keep him in the castle…” Your words trailed off at the sight ahead. 

A silvery cloaked figured and…Wheein, bundled up in a green cloak, cheeks rosy pink from the chill as you both paused, it hadn’t been fair that you hadn’t even gotten to see her since she had been trialed. 

You had immediately left Jungkook’s side, “Wheein!” 

Tears filling your eyes as she met you halfway, “Y/n! I’m so, so incredibly sorry!” She whispered out as you both embraced, tears of joy, tears of relief, you weren’t sure, but seeing her in person, being able to tightly hug her. 

It had all suddenly rushed in your mind, that what you had committed, why you had done it, it wasn’t just for your own survival, but it was for the survival of someone else, your arms squeezed around her. 

You broke away from her, grabbing her hands in our own as you both looked at one another, Wheein immediately noticing your tiredness, “Are you okay?” She whispered out. 

“You were nearly executed, I should be asking you that.” You frowned. 

“But you…” Wheein couldn’t bring herself to say the words, the silence loud as you looked away from her. 

Your eyes dropped down to her own gloved hands before finally back at her, “You are alive, and so am I. I will be okay…with time.” 

“You should be at home resting with your family Wheein.” Jungkook had decided to step into the conversation, words softly reprimanding.

“I couldn’t stay away any longer, not after everything that has happened. I owe you both my life, and I wanted to give my thanks for all you have done for me. As well as…” Wheein frowned disapprovingly as she turned to the cloaked figure.

Taehyung. 

“I’ve heard about the ill-spoken words.” Wheein stared him down as she let go of her hands, taking a few steps back as she gestured the man over. 

Taehyung frowned, scratching his cheek as he shuffled in front of you, “What I accused you of Princess…I cannot take back my words, but all I can do is ask for your forgiveness.” 

You gaped as he dropped to one knee, bowing his head, “I spoke without thinking and let my emotions get the better of me.” 

“Taehyung…” You whispered softly, true his words had wounded you but you couldn’t entirely blame him, you had no idea what would do if Jungkook was in such a similar situation, “While your words hurt, being upset like that is understandable. We were all afraid of what would happen, I would never hold it against you.”

“Stand up Taehyung,” Jungkook spoke, his eyes not quite as kind as yours but it seemed he had a similar line of thought, “While your words were border treason…” He trailed off, glancing down at you briefly, “If the love of my life was also on death's doors, there’s no telling the hell I would raise. 

“Love of your life?” Wheein squeaked out, clearly embarrassed at the comparison, but it made a soft smile tug on your lips.

Taehyung bowed at this, “I won’t speak out of line again. I still hope to one day serve as your hand Your Highness.” 

Jungkook snorted, “We’ll see about that. Now you need to escort Wheein back-”

“With all do respect,” Wheein spoke up, a small shy smile on her face, “I would like to return from my leave early, I would like nothing more then to be back in service to the Princess once more.” 

Jungkook frowned disapprovingly but you had spoke before he did, “You are always welcomed to return Wheein, your company would be a light that I need right now.”

Jungkook sighed, “Very well, then return to your quarters for the night,” He began walking, pulling you along with him, “And we’ll see you in the morning.”

Snow fell quietly and you could hear the owls trill out, your heart feeling just a little more light, the road ahead would be only just as treacherous, but with Jungkook by your side, and the friends you had made. 

You could only hope it would be enough. 

[mrsparkjimin18]

of crowns and daggers: the trilogy

🫅 pairing: prince!Jimin x princess!f.Reader

🫅 au/genre: arranged marriage au. royalty, Korea ‘Three Kingdoms’ research, fluff, very mild smut, angst

🫅 rating: M

🫅 wc: 12502

🫅 warnings: possible major character death, murder plotting, minor character death

summary: Blinding moonlight dances off the dagger’s blade, its cold shimmer piercing through the night as you grip the handle with unwavering resolve. You straddle your new husband, Prince Jimin, the weight of your destiny pressing heavily upon your shoulders. Adrenaline pulses through your veins, sharpening your senses as the blade’s edge hovers dangerously close to his carotid artery. Your father’s voice reverberates in your mind, a relentless mantra: “Cut the head off the snake, and the body dies.”

The moonlight continues its silent vigil, a stark witness to the moment of betrayal that both binds and separates you. The air is thick with the gravity of your actions, the promise of power and vengeance colliding with the personal cost of your duty. This is the moment where love and loyalty are torn apart by destiny’s cruel hand, where every choice shapes the course of the future, and where the echoes of your father’s command hold sway over your heart.

The future unfurls from this point, marked by the weight of a decision that will ripple through the pillars of power and the depths of personal sacrifice. In this fleeting instant, the world holds its breath, and the path ahead is irrevocably altered. But, the lines blur, and suddenly, you're not sure who the real enemy is: the one in your bed or the one guiding your hand.

🫅a/n: This wicked treat was written for @colormepurplex2 as part of the @bangtanwritershq’s Halloween Gifting Writing Event:  Sweet Tricks & Wicked Treats!

special thanks to the beta readers: @hisunshiine @lo1k-diamonds @moonleeai, without your help in the end this story would never have been completed!!!

part 1: under the mask of loyalty

part 2: bound by duty, torn by desire

part 3: uncertain fate

[demonshauntingthedoves]

𝒐𝒕7

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The Royal Scandal : YandereKings!ot7 x maid female reader [scenarios] (@angellgguk)

Unmei : ot7 x princess reader [series] (@peachywritess )

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Mercy : YandereKing!seokjin x female reader [oneshot] (@raggaraddy)

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Tastes Like Royalty : YandereServant!namjoon x princess reader [ part I ] (@sluttyandere )

Torn Emerald Stockings : YandereKing!namjoon x female reader [ part II ] (@sluttyandere)

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Beloved : YandereKing!yoongi x fem reader [oneshot] (@bang-tan-bitches)

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Potrait Of A Prince : DrugaddictPrince!taehyung x female reader [oneshot] (@flowerwrites06)

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Tainted : YanderePrince!jimin x female reader [oneshot] (@girl8890)

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Bloody Love : YandereKing!jungkook x femreader [series] (@hongjoongscafe )

Love Is A Game : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [series] (@lleldey)

Silver Blades : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [oneshot] (@jooniyah)

The Dark Prince : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [series] (@jkeuphoriadreamland)

To Obtain The Flower : YandereKing!jungkook x fem reader [ part I ] (@mingshits )

Primrose : YandereKing!jungkook x fem reader [ part II ] (@mingshits )

Slave 19990319 : YandereAlienprince!jungkook x human! reader [ part I ] (@explicit-tae)

Concubine 19990319 : YandereAlienprince!jungkook x human! reader [ part II ] (@explicit-tae)

You Are My Crown : YanderePrince!jungkook x fem reader [oneshot] (@redsaurrce )

A Prince With A Ugly Heart : Prince!jungkook x fem reader [series] (@daydreamindollie)

Bow To You : King!jungkook x Queen reader [series] (@flowerwrites06 )

Love Letters : Prince!jungkook x maid reader [oneshot] (@bonny-kookoo )

[jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue]

What if... you decided to run away? part three | OT7 BTS au

A very belated update starring my soulmate @shadowofahope and some angst. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, betrayal, injury, a mentally deranged villain, and bts hurting. 6.3K words

Prev

Two options presented themselves to Min Yoongi as he watched you happily having breakfast with the others. He could tell you and this whole dream would be shattered, or he could bury it, and they could all live happily ever after. He was deluding himself he knew it, it wasn’t a question of if you’d find out, it was a matter of when. He also knew, if he wasn’t the one to tell you, you’d never forgive him.

Still with knowing this, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth as he looks at you, his throat seized. All his instincts wanted to do was keep him from breaking the mirage of everything he wanted, and that’s what he would be doing. Call him a coward, like Namjoon was doing with his gaze eating into the side of Yoongi’s face, but to keep that smile on your face, he’d be anything to keep dreaming.

“Hyung, Princess is sleeping next to us tonight,” Jungkook stares down the Prince with the most serious glare he can muster before he sits down for his serving of pancakes. Jimin and Taehyung nodding furiously on either side of him, imploring with their eyes that you both agree.

The idea of you not being in his arms as he slept made an uncomfortable itch manifest under his skin, akin to anxiety but more volatile. He keeps himself from scratching, nodding quietly in agreement as he plays with his food. He can feel the surprise in the room, Jin and Hobi looking at each other in shock. Even you nearly choked on the orange juice, whipping your head round to inspect the silent prince.

He tried to keep his features neutral, knowing you could read him like a book. Your reassuring palm on his thigh lets him know you can see through him, that light squeeze trying to coax him to look at you, but he’s too afraid to. If he faces you he would have to face Namjoon too, and right now, he couldn’t deal with either of you.

“Yoongi?” Your voice is so understanding and soft, the disgust he had in himself he could feel rise like bile in his throat at the sound.

“I don’t like it Jagi,” he tries to smile, trying to meet your eyes. “But you’re right I have to share.”

He excuses himself, unable to stand lying to you about his current predicament, Namjoon’s eyes following him every step of the way. You’re about to follow after him but the taller individual beats you to it, telling you to stay.

The remaining men look between themselves, questioning each other silently before you verbalise their thoughts.

“Did someone say something to him?” You wince at the accusation in your own words.

“We’ve been saying something to him since we landed Princess,” Jimin deadpans, eyes narrowing at you as you defend the greedy prince.

“Look I know he’s been… unreasonable lately, but you know him,” you didn’t want to talk about Yoongi’s vulnerabilities, but the suggestion was clear in your tone. “He doesn’t mean to be-” you hesitate, trying to find the right word.

“An asshole?” Jin suggests, making Jungkook snicker at the language. “We know Princess, but I think he’s forgetting the fact we nearly lost you too.”

“Of course you’re going to defend your prince over your knights in shining armour,” Taehyung mumbles to himself, his fork hitting the plate harshly as he picks up a piece of pancake.

You press your lips together to hold back the laugh, Jin and Jimin mirroring your expression.

—

You knock on the door again, the fifth time, but still no response. It had been a week since you last saw her and now you were worried something was wrong. You frown, there were only so many places you could be on this island and when the weather was scorching like today, the only place was home. So why was your new friend not answering the door?

“Nym?” You call out again, but not a whisper greets you back.

You sigh, sweat starting to drip from your scalp to your face. You turn back to your place, telling yourself you’d try again later.

The heat of the sun cooked the top of your head, you curse yourself for not bringing out a hat or parasol or something. As beautiful as this piece of heaven was, you were not acclimated to it.

You try not to run back to the villa to escape the heat, ready for a cool drink as you reach the front step.

“Where have you been?” Yoongi almost yells in his panic when you walk through the door making you jump.

“Hey,” you frown, hand on your chest to slow your startled heart. “What’s wrong?”

He composes himself at that question, as if he wasn’t aware of his demeanour until you called it out, like he forgot himself for a moment.

“Nothing,” he mutters, walking away with his head hanging low in guilt.

What the heck was that?

“Yoongi?” You call after him, knowing he wanted to be alone but not wanting to leave him with the thoughts drowning him. You follow him into his room, staring in worry when he sits on the bed and hangs his head into his hands. 

“Baby?” you ask, heart thumping uncontrollably as your mind races. “Yoongi what’s wrong?”

You’re scared to approach him, depending on his disposition he didn’t always welcome physical comfort when he felt vulnerable. Whatever cloud was thundering above him had his shoulders slumped, you couldn't see his eyes, couldn’t read his expression. 

“Yoongi say something,” you beg, still standing by the door. “You’ve been acting weird all week, please say something.”

He sniffs, lifting his head, eyes full of water ready to spill. You stand in shock for a second, Yoongi wasn’t one to cry. You rush to him, holding him tight as he starts to sob, knowing he was unworthy of your comfort right now when he kept the worst secret from you. 

“Jagi, tell me what's wrong please,” your own bottom lip wobbles, you hate seeing him upset, it kills you. 

He shakes his head against you. You would never forgive him, he tries to get ahold of himself, pushing away from you as he wipes his face in his hands. The look of worry you give him breaks his heart. He takes your hand in his, trying to reassure you silently by stroking his thumb against your skin but he can’t meet your eyes. 

He wants to thank you when you don’t push it, when you let it go for now, but the words are bitter and vile in his mouth and he doesn’t release them.

—

“Why are you guys making popcorn?” Namjoon asks when he enters the kitchen, Yoongi close behind him after another argument. 

“We fixed the TV,” Jungkook says with a mouthful of snacks.

The prince becomes petrified with panic, he was the one to mess with the wiring so you wouldn’t have access to the outside world or the news. The fear that freezes him, suddenly jolts him out of shock, almost running to the living room where he finds you flicking through the channels. He doesn’t think before he snatches the remote out of your hand, turning the device off and gaining everyone’s questioning gaze.

“Yoongi?”

“Hyung, what are you doing?” Taehyung asks in disbelief, he just got comfortable for movie night. 

He can’t say a word, his mind drawing blanks for an excuse. 

“You’ve been acting weird all week,” Jin says.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Jimin looks at him as if he’s grown 2 extra heads. 

“No tv,” he breathes, the panic not subsiding. Namjoon stands behind him, his cheeks sucked in as he watches the scene. He’s still angry from the fight with the prince, but he wasn't vindictive enough to throw him under the bus.

“Why?” Hoseok asks.

“He’s hiding something,” you finally speak after observing him, trying to take the remote back but he grips onto it like his life depends on it. 

Jungkook had followed behind the two when they entered, moving towards the screen while you and Yoongi stared at each other. He uses the controls on the TV to turn it on, Yoongi’s face turning blank when he changes channel. It’s his worst luck that it revealed what he tried so desperately to hide. 

You turn to the image of your father’s coffin being walked out of his castle, held up by 6 men as Baekhyun and Taeyeon walked behind it dressed in black. The words the newscaster was saying don’t even reach your ears, your face contorting from shock into pain. 

“Jagi…”

You start hyperventilating, the others caught in stupor, unable to move. The king was dead, and they all had strong suspicions that Yoongi knew. 

“Y/n let’s calm-“ Namjoon tries reaching for you but you snap away at his touch.

“Did you know?” He would take bullets right now than the look of fire on your face.

“Y/n-“

“Did. You. Know.”

But his face confesses for you where his words can’t. That’s all it takes for you to break down, falling to your knees with your arms around your head, whimpering not just at the loss of life, but the loss of trust.

“Jagi,” Yoongi tries again, his heart blaring fast in alarm.

“Don’t,” the strength in your voice is gone, but he knows not to say another word. 

The tension turns thick, Jungkook mutes the news channel, but the footage of your father’s funeral still plays on the screen for them all to see. Minutes pass, no one daring to speak first. Jin glares at the prince, knowing what emotional turmoil he just put you through, how could he keep this from you? His gaze flickers to Namjoon with even more contempt.

“I have to go back,” you say more to yourself than them, coming to stand on wobbly legs, but your words cut through the silence for them all to hear.

“No,” the prince almost growls at the suggestion, but you look ready to tear him right back, looking like a wounded animal on edge, ready to do whatever to survive.

“You,” that one syllable held more venom than he had ever heard from you, finger pointed like a knife in accusation, “don’t get to decide for me, you don’t get to control me, y-you-“

You can’t help it, your words falter as you break down again, the corners of your sneer weighted down by grief, the bottom lip trembling as the fire in your eyes is drowned out by tears.

“You of all people know what it’s like to be controlled your whole life, and you tried to do that to me.”

Your words hit him, they do, like a truck to the chest, ploughing him down, but he can’t regret his actions, only your sorrow.

“If you go back,” he takes a step towards you. “We,” he points to himself and the rest of inhabitants in the room, “go back.”

He waits for the realisation to pass your eyes, and he knows it’s there as they soften on him for a moment.

“If we go back Jagi,” his voice cracks, hating himself for causing you this pain, but wanting you to listen to him. “We are dead men.”

“I can ex-“

“They won’t wait for an explanation Y/n!” He yells frustrated. “They’ll sentence us to death before we’re questioned, you know how it works! How it really works.”

Your lips quiver as you try to look strong, but everything inside of you is crushed. The hurt clawed its way through your body, reducing you to nothing. 

“I should have married him,” you say quietly to yourself but the sincerity in your tone breaks their hearts. You regretted choosing them, choosing your freedom.

“And lived unhappily ever after?” Yoongi scoffs with disgust at the image of you and Wang at the altar.

“And this is better? Letting my country and my people fall into the hands of a psychopath? Be betrayed by men who I thought loved me enough not to lie to me?” you reply, staring despondently at nothing. “I was born with my duty and I have failed it.”

His red rimmed eyes can’t look at you.

“For what?” Your hoarse voice presses, hurting you all. “For something as trivial and fickle as love, the monarchy comes first and I have forgotten my place.”

“Please,” he begs, head hung low as every word you uttered, although right, killed him.

“My father was right.” It was like a final bullet, the harshest slap or ice bucket thrown over him.

You turn to Namjoon.

“If you didn’t love me, would you have let me escape?”

Both your minds go to the night he caught you, the night their feelings were revealed. He thinks it through, understanding his own duty. You stare in silence, his mind calculating, overthinking. There just wasn’t a world that existed in his mind where he didn’t love you, so how could he answer?

“I don’t know,” he confesses sincerely.

“I wish you didn’t,” you breathe. “My father might still be alive.”

“That’s not your fault,” Taehyung says but you shake your head.

What if he died because of you? Because you ran away? The guilt eats away at you, and you know if Yoongi and Namjoon were honest from the beginning you could have accepted it, could have leaned on them for emotional support but now you felt a rift between yourselves that ran too deep to fix. Yet despite that distance that now existed between you, you had no one else to turn to. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you sob, looking to them all for guidance. It was ironic that you were now technically queen, and you had no clue, no power, nothing.

They stay silent, solemn as they look to the ground and avoid your gaze.

“Princess there’s nothing we can do,” Jin says softly, not wanting to upset you but unable to feed any fantasy you had of fixing this.

“I can’t leave my people to Taeyeon,”

Yoongi stands in front of you, his eyes piercing into yours, with an anger you couldn’t place.

“They’re not your people anymore,” he says harshly, “you abdicated, this isn’t your problem.”

“Hyung,” Jimin warns him gently, he was pushing it.

You search his eyes, wondering why he was trying to hurt you further, until you realise there was fear he was trying to hide with his wrath.

“You knew when you left, eventually Baekhyun and that psycho bitch would be next in line,” Yoongi continues, ignoring Jimin. “You don’t want that life Y/n.”

A knock on the door snaps everyone’s attention to the sound, the tension not broken but they’re grateful for the pause.

Your new friend enters cautiously, eyes wandering around the room at everyone’s sullen expressions and the endless stream of tears pouring down your face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.

“Nym, is everything okay?” Namjoon asks politely, not appreciating the disruption but knowing there wouldn’t be one without good reason.

“I… I did some digging,” Nym breathes nervously, wanting to bolt out of the room with the heaviness in the air but this was important. “The authorities already know something was unusual with the late king’s passing so-“

“You knew too?” The sting of betrayal had you interrupting before you could stop yourself. You were stuck on this island and you thought you could run to your friend’s place for help when the conversation was over but now you truly had nowhere to turn to. This paradise had turned into a prison, they weren’t going to let you leave.

Nym looks at you sadly, apologising silently hoping what was uncovered with a week of no sleep would earn your forgiveness.

“I thought hard about what I could do to help, and I think I have something.”

“What is it?” Hoseok asks.

“The authorities know there’s something odd about the King’s passing, but Prince Baekhyun and his wife closed any investigation, so I did some digging,” Nym explains, feeling the intensity of everyone’s stares, no one breathed. “I…”

She pauses, looking at you wondering whether it was right to just lay everything out on the table, but how can something so destructive be cushioned. Namjoon’s eyes glance towards the laptop in the computer genius’s arms.

“What did you find?” you barely whisper. 

“She didn’t cover her tracks very well,” Nym replies, hesitating. “I don’t think you should see this.”

“Taehyung and Jimin, maybe your should take Y/n-”

“No,” you interrupt, the hell were they going to discuss this without you, that was what caused this fucking problem in the first place. “Show me.”

Your eyes don’t implore your friend, they demand authority and everyone in the room understands why you deserve your title, blood had nothing to do with it. The laptop is placed on the table, everyone’s eyes glued to the screen. 

“The Imperial castle has two sets of security cameras, someone hacked into them to erase everything the night of your fathers death,” Nym explains. “It took a week but I recovered them.”

“How did he die?” Jin asks what you couldn't stomach asking.

“The official story is he mixed medication with alcohol and…” there's a pause for concern over your wellbeing, but you were done with walking around eggshells, they were all broken anyway. 

“Say it,” you beg.

“He fell down the Castle stairs,” Nym says, watching your reaction cautiously, “there was a dent on his head that was unexplainable with the fall, but they think he might’ve bumped it on something given his state. They blamed the security camera malfunction on the storm.”

“And what actually happened?” Namjoon asks.

“Just play the footage Nym,” you say, it didn’t matter anyway, what was done was done, what you wanted was the truth.

After a deep breath, Nym presses play, the screen is grainy at first but clears. Your father comes into the frame, obviously heavily intoxicated with someone pushing him from behind. Whoever it was, wears a ski mask, looking around on edge. There’s a glint of metal in their hand that you can’t make out but it’s pressed against his back. After a stumble, he trips on the ground, and the masked figure tries to pull him up. They get into a tussle, your father grabbing the individual but only able to pull off the balaclava. Your breath catches as you recognise her, and now the object in her grasp. You jump when the pistol is slammed against his skull, and he’s pulled to his feet. He’s disorientated, clutching his head in his hands before he’s pushed to the stairs. You close your eyes, knowing what was about to happen, and you thought you could stomach it but you can’t. Arms wrap around you, someone strokes your hair. You bury your head into his chest, knowing it was Taehyung who had come to comfort you from the most abhorrent scene you ever had to witness. 

“I’m so sorry Y/n,” Nym says sincerely as you muffle your cries. 

—

They sit in silence once Nym leaves, the hours tick by with you sitting on the ottoman alone, too quiet, too stoic, too deep in thought. No one dares to break it first, no one dares to move, scared that the already fragile state of your being could shatter more than it already had. There was no coming back from this, that was the fear, no recovering. 

The footage would be released with your permission, it would solve the issue of letting the psychopath sit in your throne, and yet there was another fear in the room. The proof of your father’s murder didn’t solve everything. 

“I’m going back,” you say calmly.

“But-“

“You’re not coming with me,” you don’t mean it in a cruel way but it still breaks their hearts. “I have a role I was born to serve, a people who need a queen they can trust, not some relative who thought they were safe from ever having to wear the crown.”

“But we’re happy here,” Jimin says with wobbling lips, eyes and nose streaming.

“Why can’t we come with you?” Jungkook cries.

“Because for right or wrong reasons, the government will still have you tried for concealing my whereabouts without consulting the royal guards,” you state, hating the matter of fact but you couldn’t risk their safety. “Rules are rules, and no matter what story we spin, we still broke the law.”

“You’re going to leave us?” Hoseok asks in disbelief. “After everything.”

You bite your lip hard to stop your eyes watering but it doesn’t work. This would be the hardest thing you would do but it needed to be done.

“Not forever,” you promise, voice hoarse and heavy. “But until I can clear your name and guarantee your safety, this will have to be goodbye.”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head, his arms crossed, his eyes closed as if that would protect him and stop everything.

“You and I both know what happens if you come back with me Yoongi,” you sniff. “If you get imprisoned in my country, the repercussions will be war and you know it.”

“What if we go back to our country?” Hoseok suggests, “Yoongi’s uncle might be able to liaise with little Queen’s government and clear our name.”

“There’s no guarantee that would work,” Namjoon sighs, massaging his head with his fingers as he tries to solve this impossible conundrum. Politics was more complicated than chess, it was like playing on a board 50 times the size with a thousand more unique pieces.

“Not to mention what Y/n’s government will force her to do in return for clearing our name,” Yoongi seethes, finally looking at you with a sad anger welling his eyes. “What if they ask you to marry Wang like your father proposed, to honour his wishes and get whatever deal he was offered by selling your hand in marriage.”

“That’s not how it works,” Tae says in disbelief, looking between you and Yoongi waiting for someone to reassure him you wouldn’t become a pawn for your country. You only look at him sadly in reply.

“One problem at a time please,” Jin mutters, catching Namjoon’s headache.

“Please don’t go back,” Jimin begs, the palm of his hands covering his eyes as he sobbed. This was so cruel, that they finally got to taste a life with you in their arms for only seconds before you were taken away.

“What if Princess married Hyung?” Jungkook suggests desperately, but the question makes you burst more into tears, your head tilted to the ceilings as you try to stop.

“She can’t get married without the permission of the courts,” Namjoon says solemnly, head hanging low. “And Yoongi Hyung’s uncle would never agree, there’s too much bad blood.”

“He barely agreed to let Yoongi become little queen’s guard,” Jin remembers out loud.

Yoongi shakes his head. He hated this, the fact his blood had a say in his life, ruled it without thought to what he wanted.

“If my father was king he would have allowed it,” Yoongi admits, for years he prayed his uncle would sire offspring so the crown would never fall on him, now he was second guessing his wishes.

You both look at eachother, another life flashing before your eyes, one so out of reach it was more of a fantasy than a dream. You still held a resentment for his actions, but the concept of leaving him overcast everything. You understood it to some extent but you truly didn’t know whether you could forgive him. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you say, “right now it doesn’t change anything.”

He hangs his head in shame, knowing he really fucked up beyond repair. 

Your attention shifts to Namjoon as he kneels in front of you, the equation in his head starting to solve itself. His eyes implore into yours, the rest of the group fade to the background when he takes your hands into his, his warm touch soothing you. 

“You always said growing up royal was awful,” He starts cautiously, not wanting to cause any more problems or misunderstandings. “There were too many rules, too many restrictions, too many classes on how to behave.”

You nod as you take in his words, wondering where he was going with this. 

“Your father pushed you away, there's a history of that you know,” he informs you. “The first heir is always treated differently, the spare is raised with less restraint, they say the prospect of raising a child who is set to replace you throughout time has caused parental rifts.”

“Where are you going with this Joonie?” you ask, he smiles apologetically, the tangent was somewhat an accident to avoid a harsh truth he needed to reveal.

“If you go back, your whole life is decided for you, Queen of a country or not, the government will set your alliance to someone they see fit, you will be expected to have two children, at least, and then they will be subjected to everything you did growing up.”

You stare at him. The thought had crossed your mind before but you always swore you would do better. The reason your father was so harsh on you was he couldn’t have a spare, your mother died too soon after your birth. You were it, he drilled that into you from day one.

“I can protect them,” you say weakly, tears starting again when Joon shakes his head in disagreement. 

“I know you’ll fight Y/n, but it would be you against a hundred officials, you tried to fight your father and you couldn’t and every one of those officials were behind him in his decision.”

“Joon,” you cry, wanting him to stop. His hand squeezes yours, the other wiping away the teardrops gently trying to cushion his words. 

“To the world, you are so privileged, and part of that is true, but they haven’t seen you suffer like we have, and I hate to think about how much you suffered before meeting us.”

You sniff, looking around the room at the rest of them looking so downtrodden, your eyes falling last on Yoongi who wipes his tears before they can fall. Yoongi, who understood you through experience, who you connected with the moment you met. 

“You guys are the best thing that ever happened to me,” you tell them truthfully, “I don’t want to go back without you, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“It’s your decision little Queen,” Hoseok steps forward, smiling sadly but knowing how hard this was for you. “We’ll support you no matter what.”

The younger three glare at him for that comment, the others hanging their heads low as if in prayer. 

“Whatever happens,” Jin agrees, “you always have our love and support Princess.”

“Please,” Yoongi begs quietly, his face scrunched in pain as he cries openly. The sight breaks your heart all over again, you really did hate seeing him in pain. 

—

“After the tribulations and trials of our beloved royal family, I think the country can say this is a monumental event in history. Like treachery out of a mediaeval plot, today also marks the one month anniversary of the death of our late king, murdered by the wife of his nephew in a scheme for the crown.

Of course this plot was unveiled by his daughter, who at the time fled the country for her safety, but returned to ensure the safety of her people and bring Kim Taeyeon to justice.”

Sadness sat like stones in their stomachs, sinking slowly as your face graced the screen. You smile but they know it doesn’t reach your eyes, you wave to the crowd and the cameras before climbing into the carriage off to the citadel for your coronation. 

“She looks so beautiful,” Taehyung mumbles, in awe of your figure in the red ruby gown. He blinks back tears, your absence didn’t get any easier for them, and seeing you on a screen just cemented the fact you were no longer here. 

“I can’t believe she went back,” Jin whispers to himself but the others hear. They also hear his unsaid words hiding between the lines, you chose duty over them, the irony was hard to ignore. You always thought they would do the same.

“Of course the matter still remains about the young Queen’s foreign bodyguards who’s current whereabouts are unknown. There is massive divide in the country and government over the actions of Kim Namjoon and his men, one of whom is the current Prince of another nation. There are calls for their presence in the court, others are demanding they receive the medal of valour, and during a recent official press conference this is what our new Queen had to say…”

The screen shifts to you at a podium, cameras and lights flashing on your form as you look at your paper. They hadn’t seen the footage yet but the date stamp on the footage showed it was from a few days ago. Jungkook holds his breath, waiting for you to speak, it felt like a lifetime ago that he heard your voice. 

“I understand there is a lot of speculation over my disappearance, and rumours that I was abducted by the men sworn to protect me.”

The youngest can’t help sniffling at the sound, he misses you and the feeling opened new excruciating wounds in him where he thought there was room for no more. 

“I am here to clear any misunderstanding over the events of the last month or so. This accusation has put to question the character of the men my own father, the late king, employed and I can say one thing for certain with absolute conviction…”

You take a pause, looking up at the cameras as if staring into each of their souls. They can see the longing in your eyes, the tears forming that you blink away, a moment of weakness that you had to hide. 

“Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin… Min Yoongi,” you take a breath as if his name pained you. “Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jung Jungkook are the best men I have ever met, and they saved my life, and any call for their imprisonment is a crime against the crown and against me. I will do everything in my power to clear their names, and have them return. Our relations with King Min must remain peaceful, and I will not have my country tarnish their character and cause unrest between two nations. 

My first act on the throne will be to resolve any remaining issues between our countries and draw up a new treaty with King Min, and I know my people will stand with me. Thank you.”

“She’s gonna do it,” Namjoon says quietly but proudly, smiling sadly when he sees the resolve on your face as you start answering press questions. “It’ll take some time but we’ll be by her side again.”

The room is quiet as they watch the footage change back to your coronation, all of them swallowing back tears with heavy hearts. They wished they could be standing there beside you, but one day they knew they would be again, no matter how long it took. 

There are cheers coming from the crowds as the crown is placed on your head, you take a deep breath that they can all see, a smile to the people but your eyes are glassy. 

“Our beautiful little Queen,” Jimin says in awe, tears slipping that he can’t help. 

“I know she’ll be the best Queen in the world but I’m so anxious for her,” Jin breathes, his heart nervous for you. 

“I wish we were there,” Hoseok whispers.

“She shouldn’t be there,” Yoongi says solemnly, standing. “She should be here with us.”

The others watch him walk out of the room, the prince had fallen into a deep stoic state, they just hope the hurt would fade with time. You carved out Yoongi’s soul the day you left, they could only pray he would find himself again. 

—

You don’t know how you managed to give your new staff the slip, you had paid the driver off with enough money that he couldn’t refuse, despite what your advisors and the government officials tried to stop you from doing.

You knew it would bring you nothing but more grief, but you had to. You could already hear Namjoon berating you, it almost makes you smile before you remember why you’re here. You’re glad to see the tower is cold and depressing as promised, the criminals in here were all in treachery of the crown. 

The guards all gave you worried looks as you demanded to see her, and there she stood in the last cell, trapped behind metal bars finally looking like the madness she held within. Her hair stood on end, a nest of knots that could never be undone, much like the chaos she caused in your life. 

She sees you, and now you really do smile vindictively when her eyes travel down the length of your coronation gown before fixing themselves on the crown that sat where it belonged. She growls, her teeth baring in disgust and hate you never witnessed before.

She presses herself against the metal, reaching for you as if she could snatch all her wants within her grasp. 

“You abdicated, that crown is mine!”

It was strange, confronting her like this. Almost surreal, the concept that this was the woman you befriended, the woman who failed in killing you, and the woman who murdered your father. There was no denying it, you saw it for yourself. 

“Why couldn’t you just stay away?” she has the gall to sob, to truly cry over her loss as if she was the victim, and you knew then there was no hope for her, not that you would ever offer it to her in the first place. 

You shake your head in disbelief, a humourless laugh before you take a step closer, wanting no one but her to hear your words.

“You know what?” You start, voice quiet but unwavering. “If you had just left everything well enough alone, I wouldn’t be here, if you didn’t let your greed become so heinous it cost a man his life, eventually you could’ve worn this crown and I would have let you.”

She screams, the sound making you want to slap some sense into her. 

“But your actions have cost so many people in so many ways,” you say sadly, not an ounce of sympathy for her, but for yourself as selfish as that might sound. “I can see now there’s no saving you.”

“That crown is mine! THAT CROWN IS MINE!” She repeats it as if it would become true, getting louder and louder as you stare. 

“You killed my father you psychotic bitch,” you spit, but there was no point to this, there would be no real justice for her actions, and she would never regret them. You wonder what closure you were trying to gain by being here, there was nothing you could do to make her feel your pain. 

—

“Your majesty,” your new personal advisor bids your farewell. You had moved to the cold imperial castle, the official site for the monarch. The day had cost you all your energy and you could barely bring yourself to climb the stairs to your new chamber. You try to ignore the urge to glance towards where you know they found your father’s body, the hurt of losing him still fresh despite the strain of your relationship with him. You push away the thoughts to deal with another time. 

Your jaw hurts from forcing your face to smile all day for the public eye, as you get ready for bed the deep empty void in your chest gets filled with pangs of sadness so intense you have to stop and breathe for a moment. You had kept it subdued all day for duty, but it came back with a vengeance. 

You were now Queen, and completely utterly unfathomably alone. The thought grips you so painfully in the silenve you can’t help the sob that turns into a wail. There was no one here to comfort you, no one to hear you yet you still covered your cries with your hand, sinking pitifully to the floor. 

The agony of leaving them didn’t fade for a day. You forgave Yoongi and Namjoon the second you returned to this awful cage, wanting to regret leaving them but there was nothing you could do about your decision now. You knew what Yoongi was trying to protect you from, there was no malice in his actions, just desperation that undid you both. You walked back into the life you tried to escape, and lost far more than you could ever explain. 

In truth you didn’t know whether you would see them again, whether you would win the fight to clear their name. You would never give up, you couldn’t, the only thing that kept you going was getting them back, otherwise this was going to be a long lonely purgatory for you without them. 

“Min Yoongi I forgive you,” you barely breathe out loud, needing him to hear you no matter how impossible. You knew him better than you knew yourself, knew he needed to hear those words for his own peace, or he would never forgive himself. You knew what state you left him in, and that one thing was your biggest regret.

[bratzkoo]

intro. second lead’s girlfriend

Author: bratzkoo | Credits to: @jintherapper​ for the banner Pairing: prince! jimin x duchess! reader Genre: angst, fluff, isekai Rating: 18+ Word count: 2.6k Warnings/note: it’s a product of my friends and i’s obsession with isekai-ng. isekai is basically being reincarnated but make it posh. 

summary: waking up to a different place. you began to realize you’re Prince Jimin’s betrothed that will die in the hands of a maid sent by an anonymous villain, this event will lead to him falling in love with the female lead and ultimately have his first real heartbreak. you will do your best to keep the both of you alive. you just need to break up with him, try to be the best wingman to him and the female lead, then live a happily ever after. so why would he always choose you?  taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @aretha170 , @jinniegenie , @mooniyooni  .@we8joon​ , @njrwifey​

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

A sharp intake of breath escaped my lips as my eyes fluttered open, my surroundings slowly coming into focus. This was not the familiar sight of my bedroom ceiling, but rather an ornate canopy adorned with intricate embroidery. Panic began to set in as I took in the lavish furnishings that filled the room - the plush bedding, the ornate vanity, the heavy curtains that seemed to block out the world beyond.

Where was I? How had I ended up in this unfamiliar place? Am I dead? I'm dead, aren't I? God, if you can hear me... Tell my best friend to delete my search history or just make her hide my phone. My head started to hurt as the fog of sleep began to clear, fragments of memories started to surface. Recollections of a life that was not my own - a life of privilege, of duty, and that hot guy! This is not... I'm not... I hurriedly looked at myself in the mirror. I was not myself. I stared at the reflection of a young lady, supposed to be me, her flawless skin, her long hair, and her pretty face. Thank fuck, I'm gorgeous! Now, I'm pretty sure this is a dream and I know who this person is. I've read this book before. The person in the mirror is Lady Y/N, daughter of Duke Hansol and betrothed to Prince Jimin. Why this dream? Why this person? I'm pretty sure Lady Y/N died before the setting of the book started. I should've dreamt that I'm Lady Hana- the female lead. I tried to slightly tap my face to wake myself up, but to no avail I was still in this body. Ok, my dream is definitely fucking with me. I pinched myself REALLY hard in my forearm. "Holy f--!" That hurts. I started to panic a little bit at the thought that maybe I'm not dreaming. Is this one of those isekai shits, cause if it was, you got to be kidding me! I was never hit by a truck! Take me back! Take me back! Lady Y/N's character is the role I had never sought and one that now seemed to threaten my very existence. Lady Y/N is supposed to die, I don't want to die! Do I even have control of what's happening? Because my supposed death is the event that would be the catalyst leading to Prince Jimin's second heartbreak.

My breath caught in my throat as the gravity of the situation sank in. I was trapped in the pages of a story that I don't know if I have control over. If I don't find a way to survive and change my course of fate. Then my life is doomed. I got to do what I got to do. I have to do whatever it takes to myself alive, maybe do some wingwoman stuff and guide Prince Jimin to Lady Hana. I've always wanted him to get the girl.

I'm sorry, Author! I have to change the future a bit.

I don't want to die!

As I was still trying to process my new reality, a gentle knock on the door startled me out of my frantic thoughts.

"My lady? Are you awake? His Highness Prince Jimin requests your presence in the garden for breakfast," a soft voice called from the other side.

My heart raced. Prince Jimin? Already? I wasn't prepared for this! But I knew I had to face him sooner or later if I wanted to change the course of this story and since when did I live with him in one castle?

"Y-yes, I'll be right there," I called back, wincing at how shaky my voice sounded. Based on the memories inside my head, it's an arranged marriage and I'm pretty sure we're not in love.

I mindlessly rang the bell to call the maids to help me get ready. Thankfully, muscle memory seemed to kick in. My hands moved almost on their own as the maids dressed me in a beautiful pale blue gown that complemented my complexion perfectly. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come.

As I made my way to the garden, my mind raced with possibilities. How should I act? What should I say? I needed to start distancing myself from him, but I couldn't be too abrupt or suspicious.

The moment I stepped into the sunlit garden, I saw him. Prince Jimin stood near a beautifully set table, his back to me as he admired some flowers. Even from behind, he was breathtaking - back view for days, perfectly styled hair, and an aura of regality that seemed to make the very air around him shimmer.

Then he turned, and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The book hadn't done him justice. His eyes, warm and kind, lit up as they landed on me. A smile, gentle and inviting, spread across his face. His lips, fuck, he's prettier than me.

"Y/N," he said, his voice rich and melodious. "Good morning. I hope you slept well?"

For a moment, I forgot all about my plans to distance myself. I forgot about the danger I was in. I forgot everything except the way he was looking at me. Oh God, his face card.

"G-good morning, Your Highness," I managed to stammer out, dropping into what I hoped was a passable curtsy. "I... yes, I slept well, thank you."

He chuckled, the sound warming me from the inside out. "Please, Y/N. How many times must I ask you to call me Jimin when we're alone? We are to be married, after all."

The reminder of our engagement snapped me back to reality. Right. I had a mission. I couldn't let his charms distract me from staying alive and steering this story back on its proper course (without my death- of course!).

"Of course... Jimin," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Shall we have breakfast?"

As we sat down to eat, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. How was I supposed to push this man away? As we settled into our seats, Prince Jimin's eyes never left me. He reached for the teapot, his movements graceful and deliberate.

“Allow me to pour your tea, Y/N," he offered, his voice warm and inviting.

Ding! Ding! Ding! I swear this man graduated in the University of Green Flag Men. I started to hesitate, my mind racing. This may be the only chance to start creating some distance. "Oh, that's not necessary, Your High— I mean, Jimin. I can manage," I said, trying to keep my tone light but firm. A flicker of confusion passed over his face, but he recovered quickly, flashing me that heart-stopping smile. "Nonsense, I insist," he said, already filling my cup. "I enjoy taking care of you."

WHY?!

My heart skipped a beat at his words, but I reminded myself of my mission. I couldn't let his charm sway me.

"Thank you," I murmured, deliberately avoiding his gaze as I reached for a pastry. I took a bite of a chocolate macarons that instantly melted in my mouth. Author, I promise I won’t change the plot that much, I’ll even live my life just eating this macarons! "I thought we could spend the day together," Jimin suggested, his tone hopeful. "The royal gardens are particularly beautiful this time of year. Perhaps a picnic by the lake?" I nearly choked on my tea. A whole day alone with him? That was the opposite of what I needed. "Oh, I… I'm afraid I can't today," I stammered, my mind scrambling for an excuse. "I promised Lady Jihyun I would help her with… with her embroidery." Jimin's brow furrowed slightly. "Embroidery? I didn't realize you enjoyed such pursuits." "It's a… recent interest," I lied, inwardly cringing at how unconvincing I sounded. "I see," he said, a note of disappointment in his voice. He reached across the table, his hand covering mine. The touch sent a jolt through me, and I had to resist the urge to pull away too abruptly. "Y/N, is everything alright? You seem… distant this morning." I forced a smile, gently sliding my hand from beneath his. "Everything's fine, Jimin. I'm just… preoccupied with thoughts of my duties." "Your duties?" he echoed, looking perplexed. "Y/N, your only duty is to be yourself. That's all I've ever asked of you." His sincerity made my chest ache. Author, I might need him to not be so perfect. I begged of you if I need to push him away, I need every fiber of my body not want to jump this man.

“I appreciate that, truly," I said, trying to infuse my voice with a conviction I didn't feel. "But as your future… wife, I have responsibilities to consider. To the kingdom, to your family." Jimin leaned back, studying me with those intense eyes. "You've never spoken like this before, Y/N. What's changed?" I bit my lip, avoiding his gaze. "Nothing's changed. I'm just… growing into my role, I suppose." A tense silence fell between us. I could feel Jimin's eyes on me, searching for answers I couldn't give. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft but determined. "Y/N, look at me," he requested. Oh? Look at me, baby. This isn’t you.

Reluctantly, I met his gaze. "Whatever's troubling you, whatever doubts you're having, please know that you can talk to me. Our marriage may have been arranged, but I want us to have a good relationship. I want us to face everything together." His words were like a dagger to my heart. How could I explain that I wasn't really his Y/N? That I was an imposter trying to save my own life? "I… I need time, Jimin," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper. "To adjust, to… to be worthy of the role I'm to play." Jimin's expression softened. He reached for my hand again, and this time, I let him take it. "You are already worthy, Y/N. More than worthy. But if time is what you need, then time you shall have. Just promise me you won't shut me out completely." I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, as we finished our breakfast in silence.

As the days passed, I found myself caught in an intricate dance of avoidance and duty. Every shared meal, every stolen glance from Jimin, felt like a step closer to my impending doom. It didn't help that I don't know who or what killed me. I had to find a way to push him away, to make him see that our arranged marriage was a mistake.

I really can’t take the direct approach and ask him to cancel our engagement, as Y/N’s father… well my father now, he’s not going to like this.

I need to figure out another way that will end this engagement and not bring embarrassment to myself or my family, get this over amicably.

As I see Prince Jimin, approach me with a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. It took all of my self control not to face palm right there and there.

This fucking simp! Does he have feelings for Y/N? How will I live peacefully? Let me break the engagement pls pls pls!

As the days turned into weeks, I found myself growing increasingly desperate. No matter how hard I tried to distance myself from Jimin, he remained unfailingly kind and attentive. It was maddening, and I was running out of ideas. Then the King announced that there’s going to be a royal ball, a grand affair with nobles from all corners of the kingdom and in special attendance, my father. I wasn’t so hang up on the not embarrassing myself anyway, since the start of the book is almost coming to a close meaning my death sentence is right at the corner. I saw this as my chance to finally push Prince Jimin away for good and onto the arms of the female lead.

On the night of the ball, I put my plan into action. I arrived late, my hair in disarray and my gown deliberately wrinkled. Gasps and whispers filled the ballroom as I made my entrance, stumbling slightly for effect.

Jimin's eyes widened as he saw me, but to my frustration, his expression quickly softened into one of concern. He hurried to my side, gently taking my arm.

"Y/N, are you alright?" he murmured, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You seem... unwell."

I forced a laugh, too loud and sharp. "Unwell? Nonsense! I'm having a wonderful time already!"

I pulled away from him, making my way to the refreshment table. With deliberate clumsiness, I knocked over a tray of glasses, sending crystal and champagne scattering across the floor.

"Oops!" I exclaimed, not bothering to hide my lack of remorse. Surely now, Prince Jimin would be furious, embarrassed by my behavior because even I was. Pls, God let this be over.

But when I turned to gauge his reaction, I found him already at my side, a gentle smile on his face as he addressed the shocked onlookers.

"No harm done," he said smoothly. "Accidents happen. Please, everyone, continue enjoying the ball." Fuck you, Prince Jimin! I really can’t with his kindness, I don’t need your understanding right now!

He turned to me, his eyes full of nothing but warmth. "Are you hurt, Y/N? Let's step outside for a moment, get some fresh air."

Frustration bubbled up inside me. Why wouldn't he just get angry? I allowed him to lead me to a secluded balcony, my mind racing for my next move.

"You must be feeling overwhelmed," Jimin said softly, once we were alone. "The pressures of court life can be daunting, I know. But please remember, you're not alone in this. I'm here for you, always."

His sincerity was like a physical ache in my chest. I turned away, unable to bear the kindness in his eyes.

"You don't understand," I muttered. "I'm not... I'm not who you think I am."

Jimin's hand on my shoulder was gentle but firm. "You're Y/N," he said simply. "The woman who is going to be my wife and I care for your well being. Nothing else matters."

I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting back tears. This was all wrong. He wasn't supposed to care. He was supposed to fall for Lady Hana, not waste his affection on someone who wasn't even the real Y/N.

"Let's return to the ball," Jimin suggested after a moment. "We'll face it together. And if you want to leave early, just say the word."

As we reentered the ballroom, I caught sight of our reflection in a gilded mirror. Jimin, ever regal and composed, and me, a disheveled mess beside him. Yet the way he looked at me, you'd think I was the most precious thing in the world.

I realized then that my plan had backfired spectacularly. Instead of pushing Jimin away, I'd only drawn him closer. And worse, I was beginning to understand why the real Y/N wanted to get married to him.

As we moved through the crowd, Jimin's hand a steady presence at the small of my back, I knew I needed a new strategy. Because with every passing moment, every kind word and gentle touch, I was falling deeper into a trap of my own making.

And I had no idea how to escape.

[shadowofahope]

Love Revocation

Pairing: ImperialGuard!JungHoseok x Princess!Reader

Premise: Only your brothers would be willing to step in and try to change your future. But history isn't easy to overcome, even if it is all but forgotten.

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: I've been watching a lot of historical k-dramas and c-dramas lately, and I can say it's an addiction at this point! If you have any favourites feel free to share! I'd love to watch your recommendations as well as talk about any mutual ones we love!

masterlist

One foot infront of the other, the crisp air of the afternoon breeze through your robes and hair, the light chatter of people in the market; it all gave you a bittersweet taste of Deja vu. Times like these felt right, but you had the feeling that nothing looked as it should. It could be the small taste of freedom mixed with the claustrophobic fear being chained somewhere. However, where the other end of the chain was you didn’t know. Or you did once, but it was lost with the rest of your memories from all those years ago. 

You stopped trying to remember after the first two season changes, then you accepted your circumstances and adjusted yourself to where you were. 

Arms full, you smile gracefully at the passing merchants and village people, the ones bowing at you when recognization transpired. You all but skip down the back path heading towards the palace again. 

You promised mother you’d finish her painting of the place father asked for her hand today. You had beeen working on it for her birthday, but you were too excited to wait. So it may have been promised 2 weeks earlier then her day.

However, a shroud voice catches your attention before you make it to the next corner. You stop in your tracks to listen. If living in the palace taught you anything it was ‘to always know the concerns of your people’, were fathers exact words. In otherwords you took it as a sign that it was ok, in most situations to eavesdrop… at least a little. 

“She is being forced to marry the oldest son of the emperor and empress. Her bloodline will muddy just as theirs already is.” A sinik male voice mocked. 

“What do you mean by that?” You heard your brothers fiance ask. She was a headstrong woman. Not only that but she was radiant. The type of woman your brother deserved. 

“Everyone knows the young lady is unfavoured by the gods. So if you bear a child with him your children will be inflicted with the same inability.” This time a female voice chimed in. Just as distasteful as the males.

“The princess is kind, witty, social, politically intelligent, well read, impactful, understanding and unworldly beautiful. Our children will be blessed to have her as their aunt.” Tayla lists, you smile to yourself. She didn’t have to defend your honour so seriosuly, but you silently thanked her none the less. 

“You have your doubts. There is no way you do not feel some worry about tarnishing your family name. Its reputation will be dragged through the land if your children fail to develope as she has. They will be cursed as she is.” 

Anyone talking about your family members however, you just couldn’t let it slide so easily.

“My brothers children will develop into the strongest blood line of these past 1000 years, we are in no need of your concern.” You step in, rounding the corner of the building. Your voice and demeanour remain calm, a smile on your lips as your mother had taught you when it came to political arguments. Remaing calm when the opposing side could not, as strategy she had learned in her youth.

What others said about you didn’t really bother you anymore. As a young child you always felt the sting of their harsh words. Like they were hoping you’d choke on them. But it had the opposite affect. It only drove you to try harder, to learn the ways of the palace. To push yourself past the limits that this life had given you. 

“My lady!” Many courteous greetings are followed by formal bows. “Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I was out for a walk through the village to get a few supplies.” Holding up the items in your hands, you sidle up to your future sister in law. Taking a step between her and the small circle of ill intended pupils.

“We didn’t mean anything by it. We were just worried she hadn’t thought it through. Or raised concerns” One of the young males spoke quickly. You stifle a scoff, but continue to maintain your composure.

“I’m sure you are.” You eye him carefully, if you weren’t mistaken he was one of the many candidates who wanted Tayla’s hand in marriage. “However as I am not my mother and fathers birth daughter, you’ll be happy to know my genes will die with me.” 

“You are not the child of the Emporer and Empress?” The small crowd gasps in unison. You could laugh at how comical their faces became. 

Even so, amongst the mumbling in front of you there is a faint call from behind you, you turn to her.

“Mother and Father saved me when I was young. Knowing I could not cultivate nor could remember where I had come from or how I ended up where they found me, they showed compassion and mercy upon taking me in and raising me with their children.” You explain to her alone. “I am blessed beyond measure. And your children will hold the greatest of titles. ”

--------

A few days had past since your unexpenctant, informal announcement of your lineage. A very important matter had taken your attention, so you had all but forgotten already. You hear frantic footsteps approach your room. You brace your mind for the inevitable impact that would be your brothers. Your hand doesn’t still as it continues to write on the parchment of your lessons from today. Your doors burst wide open, not bothering to look up at them.

“Are you really planning to take the tether serum?” Your youngest brother demands breathlessly. 

“You’re here earlier then I expected, I am almost surprised.” You smile to yourself. If you had placed money on them discovering your plans, it would not have been until at least a week had past.

“Don’t make light of this.” Your eldest brother scolds from the rear, coming up behind your younger brother, closing the doors to conceal your conversation.

“Why would you make such a thing?” Taehyung's bewilderment is something you had became accustomed to. He somehow always seemed shocked by your actions. Considering how long you had been in the family now, you would have thought he had understood you at least a little.

You let out a deep sigh, the air from your lungs feels cold as it leaves your body into the warm air. 

“I want to be of use to mother and father in the end. Is that so outrageous as to incur your unmistakable wrath?” You choose your words carefully, not wanting to sadden them with todays ongoings but at the same time you know Seokjin’s fiance has already informed him of the other day. 

“We both understand greatly how indebted you feel towards them, but to tether your lifeline to them as someone still young is unheard of.” Seokjin reasons, still standing in the middle of the room, you can see his robes out of your peripheral. Taehyung sits down in the place next to you, trying to get your attention.

“Elder brother is right. If they both pass then so shall you, your soul cannot be separated. You shall serve them into death and upon new life.” His tone turning sorrowful. 

This time you look up at him, then towards your elder. 

“My dear brothers, It’s no secret that no one would marry me before and now with my birth being admitted, I have somehow lost whatever leverage I may have had.”

“That’s not true.” You see the hurt in the youngers eyes, but what you've said is true. You all know it. You give him a sad smile, letting your hand drop the brush, and placing it over his on the table.

“I cannot cultivate. I have no sense of magic or any prowess. My soul has been deemed weak and now people know that I am not the Emperor and Empress' true daughter.” You direct your smile towards Seokjin. “I have been preparing myself for this outcome since we were young. Please, if you cannot understand me then at least accept that this is your sisters wish.”

--------

“The last time the two of you bowed this deeply to us was when you were young children and you and our son had broken a priceless family heirloom while you were training in the halls.” The Emperors longest friend muses from his seat. Him and his wife had known your parents since they were young, they were as close as family. Including their son, who happened to be the same age as you. So all four of you had grown up together.

“Uncle. Auntie. We are here to request an inordinate favour from you. One we know may be impossible for you to agree to, but we must ask this of you.” Seokjin’s whole body is tense. Everything he can do to save you from tethering yourself is hanging on this outcome. 

“What is it?” Your aunt is more curious then worried by their request. Seeing them kneel before them was a shock bigger then they had ever expected. 

Your brothers sit up straight.

“Our sister. As you know she is unable to cultivate. She has no skill in combat. Many have deemed her unworthy to bear our family name.” Seokjin’s voice comes out strong, but his hands are trembling slightly. “However, as you also know. Our sister is competent in the kitchen, and with chores of the home. She is patient and nurturing when she takes care of the palaces many children. She has beautiful skills in the way of art and embroidery. She is generous beyond measure and courteous to others. She deserves to have a future.”

“We both agree. She is a diamond amongst pebbles. But what brings this tone of concern?” Uncle is concerned.

“Our sister has decided to take the tether serum and serve our parents.” Taehyung explains. “We do not know if you have heard the word circling about our sister not being of our blood. But we are here to confirm it. Our parents took her in when I was newly born, she is all I’ve known to be an older sister.”

“We are aware of the talk. We were also there the day your parents found the young lady.” The Uncle assures. “You do not need to worry about our thoughts towards the princess.”

“I am curious to this favour. What do you wish to ask for?” Auntie pushes. 

“Our sister wishes to tether herself for she believes no one will marry her.” Seokjin explains. They bow again in unison, as if they had practiced their movements and speech before appearing. “We ask of you to please propose a marriage contract to the Emporer and Empress between our sister and your son.”

Taehyung cuts in quickly before they can be dismissed.“We know he is your only son, but we beg of you. She respects your son and you, uncle and auntie. There are many things she may be useful for.”

“Useful? She is enough as she is. We know that very well.” Uncle states, making eye contact with his wife. The look of understanding flashing between the two, unseen by the young princes.

“Just as we know our son. He has felt feelings of affection for the young lady for quite some time. You might not know this but she was the reason he decided he wanted to join the guard.” The older woman conceals her giggle behind her hand. “I had never seen such a rambunctious boy turn so serious.”

“He knew?” They both shoot up in surprise. Their friend had never mentioned having any knowledge of your sisters situation. But then again, they had never spoken of this either. 

“Yes. Our son was adamant that he would protect the princess. We could not sway his mind. Though we did not try to. We have never looked down on her because of her situation. She has become a well rounded beautiful woman, our son would be blessed to take her as his wife.” The Lord nods, 

“Does that mean you will agree?” They feel giddy. They could save you.

The older couple share a fond smile. 

“There is something our son has been drawn to since he was a young boy. We believe your sister is the key to his happiness.” 

--------

“Hoseok, what are you doing here?” You beam, controlling your feet to not skip your way over to him. A lady never skips…at least not in front of others.

“Princess” He greets you with a bow and warm smile as he always does. “I was summoned by the Emperor and Empress. Why have you come?” 

“I was requested by Uncle and Auntie to meet them here.” You explain. “What is going on? Do you think its about Mothers birthday feast tomorrow?” 

“I’m not sure, but we should not keep them waiting. Let us go in.” He opens the doors and waits for you to enter first.

You hurry in, smiles directed at your parents then your uncle and aunt. 

A large round table adorned with vast plates of food, both your fathers sat near the far end laughing and chatting away, raising a drink to eachother. Your mothers seated next to their husbands also tremendously cheerful. 

You share a quick glance before bowing. 

“Emperor. Empress.” He greets first.

“Uncle. Auntie.” You greet directly after. 

“Children! Come in! Have a seat.” You father cheers happily. Your aunt waves a hand over to you for you to sit next to her. 

You bound over to sit next to your aunt. Which just so happens to be next to Hoseok as well.

“We are celebrating this evening.” Your mother informs, her attention on him.

“What are we celebrating Empress?” Formality laced in his words. It made you smile, even if he was like another son to your parents he highly respected them. 

“Lord and Lady Jung, have come to us with a proposal contract and we have agreed.” The Emporer boisterously exclaims.

“I’m sorry, Father and Mother I fear I do not comprehend.” You express, eye brows coming to meet in a frown. 

You see a flash of something cross Hoseoks face, but you stay focused on your looking between your parents. 

Your Aunt grabs both your hands, placing them in the space between you and forcing you to face her.

“The Emporer and emperess have accepted our proposal for our son and you to be wed.” She cheers brightly, hands giving yours a light squeeze.

“I’m to marry-?” You look back at him. Scared to see panic or disgust or even rage on his dazzling features. But there isn’t any sign of darkening. Only red tinted ears give away any emotions he’s feeling. That in itself leaves you astonished adn shaken. 

Words of wedding ceremonies are abrupt in your ears. The pattern of the bedding for your marriage suite. 

“But, Uncle, auntie. I’m not worthy of marrying your son.” You say it like it is a definite fact, interrupting their excited remarks. 

“Nonsense!” Your father bellows, a bright smile never leaving his face, he places his arm around his long term friend, who shares an equally blinding smile. “You two shall be wed! It is a beautiful idea, one I wish we had thought of sooner.” 

The laughter from the elders erupts once again, leaving you shell shocked. Remaining quiet you can’t bring yourself to look at anyone, opting to stare at the oak table in front of you. How did these events happen? You had just made the choice to…

A sinking feeling hits you all at once. Your brothers. They were the only ones that knew of your plans, other then the physician you had asked the tether serum about. They would be the ones to try to stop you. 

You’d deal with them after this dinner. You’d confront them and talk to Hoseok about his rejecting the marriage proposal. 

You just had to sit nicely until then.

--------

“What did you do?!” You stormed into the study room the next day, you knew your brothers had hidden themselves away. They always resided in the same place to try to escape you when they had done something they knew you would be unhappy with. You had been followed by Hoseok on your way there when you mentioned you were confronting your brothers, upon meeting him that morning.

“Sister. This is a study room. Please refrain from raising your voice.” Your oldest mock scolding you, book in hand.

“Then answer me. I know it was the two of you that have provoked the marriage idea.” You were pulling back your seething temper, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. 

“Princess~” Hoseok calls calmly from behind you. You could feel him close behind you, not touching but close enough that you felt like you could breathe.

“What all of our parents decide to do we do not hold any influence over. You know as well as anyone.” Seokjin scoffs. The audacity he had to play ignorant at this moment was appalling. 

“We may have brought up the idea of a union.” Taehyung supplies from the far end of the room. 

“Why would you do this?” Exasperation seeps out of you. There was no point in hiding your displeasure or annoyance at these two. “You know I wish to be tethered.”

“Tethered?” Hoseok speaks again. “Who were you to be tethered to?”

“Mother and Father.” You state, angry eyes set on your brothers, but also not wishing to elaborate. This isn’t how you wanted him to find out. You were all childhood friends, you wanted to tell him yourself when he had time away from his duties in the guard.

“She believes no one shall love her because she is unable to cultivate. She believes she is not worth dotting on.” Your elder brother chimes in, closing his book and sauntering over to you. “But that’s not true. Is it Hoseok?“

“No. It’s not.” Your childhood friends voice is stern, you had never heard it like this before, at least not targeted at you. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Is this why you wanted me to talk my parents out of this marriage?”

“I wanted to be tethered to mother and father because I wish to serve them for eternity.” Your jaw tense. Your core feeling as it had turned into stone. 

“Look at me.” You have never heard his voice so cold and low, not even when he was at work. Something in you makes it impossible to deny him, so you do as he orders. You can see the fire behind his eyes, before your allow the flames to consume you you look towards the chilled marble ground. You hear muffled voices of your brother behind you but you can’t react. You feel warm fingers gently push your chin up ever so gently, forcing you to make eye contact. “Princess. Y/n. Is that really why?”

Your voice catches in your throat. A cough threatening to scratch its way out of you. “I am not like others. I cannot contribute to a high class home as I should. I’m…. broken.”

You had never felt so weak as you did in that moment, not since the days yo uhad been found. You could never lie to him. Not once. 

He studies your face, searching for something. “Is it the worst to be betrothed to me?”

“What?” His question catches you off guard. You blink at him in confusion. Of course, you knew he would be angry at your decision, or at the very least angry with you for not trusting in him to discuss it. 

“I can understand if you wish not to be wed to me because you do not think I’m adequate.” His voice soft like the look in his eyes. Soothing your anger towards your brothers in a instant, your only focus on him and the sad smile on his lips.

“That is ridiculous. I would not want it to be promised to any one else in this entire kingdom.” Why do you feel breathless? 

“Good.” His hand slips away from your skin. For a mere second, you miss the contact before realizing what you said. Your face burns with embarrassment, your eyes scrunching closed at how idiotic you sounded to yourself. Had you lost your mind? “Then I will discuss with our parents for the ceremony to be held as soon as possible.”

The shock brings you back out of your inner reprimanding. But before you can formulate words he’s bowing to your brothers and then you and he’s gone.

“W-what just happened?” Your mind struggles to catch up. 

Hearing your brothers snicker at you doesn’t’ help, you’re still frozen in place. Frozen staring at the now closed doors that Hoseok, your childhood friend, had left through. 

Seokjins full laugh fills the room. “Looks like you’ll be a little bride faster than I will be a groom.” 

masterlist

[foxymoxynoona]

To Kill A King (Chapter 15)

Banner and linebreaks by the talented @awrkives

Summary: What’s more charming than Prince Seokjin? Nothing, obviously. Except maybe the rotating palace guests who each smile and bow and charm in an attempt to hide their true motives. Fortunately Seokjin has a close circle of friends (well, servants) who watch his back and endure his humor and help him navigate the tumultuous seas of heartbreak, love, and an arranged marriage, not necessarily in that order. If only they had helped him keep a closer eye on his bride-to-be’s handmaiden, who arrives with her own agenda… or maybe it would have been better if he had noticed her less? One thing is certain as this royal drama of the heart plays out: there are many people competing to kill a king.

Main Pairing: Prince Seokjin x Female OC Genre: Historical Fantasy World, political conspiracy, romance Rating: 18+ Content Warnings & story tags: includes explicit sex (mxf, fxf), possibly graphic violence/injury later, love and sex triangles or uh quadrangles?, sort of e 2 l, sort of bodyguard trope, sort of arranged marriage, a lot of plotting murder (it’s literally in the title), maybe character death, grief, pining, angst, love, oral (f & m receiving), public sex, I don’t know everything yet as the story is long and still being written

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NOTE: check out the Character & Setting Cheat Sheet for a refresher on who’s who

Nasimyu stopped beneath the towering archway built of dark-eyed yellow sunbursts woven together. It was magnificent. Actually as lovely as Seokjin had made it out to be –which he seemed to read from her face as her hand in his elbow forced him to stop too. He only glanced briefly up at the arch and then gave her a close-lipped smile that made his cheeks puff up. He looked ridiculous, like a child, not like her soon-to-be-husband of a future king. 

She drew in a deep breath and looked away from him. She needed to stop letting her mind run away with annoyance over stupid stuff. Everything was going as planned and Seokjin, she was beginning to suspect, might not be the selfish villain her father had led her to believe, and now silver threads shot through the fabric of her future. Things were looking less bleak. Seokjin might look and behave ridiculously, but he was good in bed, and he was potentially willing to just let her do the ruling she wanted to, and the day was bright and hot and only a little humid, just the way she liked it. And everything was so yellow, golden, perfect. 

Behind them, their guards stopped. The entourage of servants stopped. Mindeulle and Namjoon –whom Nasimiyu was icily tolerating for the day– stopped. 

King Dong-gun did not. He stepped around them, striding through the arch as if it had been set up specifically to welcome the royals (perhaps it had), his beaming face turned up as he waved at the townspeople who cheered for him. They tossed petals down from upper stories of the buildings, a hailstorm of clumps of yellow petals that made her laugh. It was a romantic idea, at least.

Obviously they must put the folks who licked the boots of the monarchy at the front. Nasimiyu was shocked to see so many pretending to adore the sight of the king. A woman fanned herself when King Donggun bobbed his head in her direction. Two men guffawed and shared a grin after the king slapped them on the shoulders as he passed. Hands reached for him until his guard nudged him safely to the center of the road and they carried forward through the shower.

“They love him?” Nasimiyu murmured to herself, baffled. It was a pretense. Most people in the kingdom, she knew for a fact, despised him. King Donggun and his excesses, his complacency, his casual cruelty.

“They don’t see him often,” Seokjin said as he gently tugged her forward. “He rarely leaves the palace these days, unless it’s to hunt in the caves. Brings the fun to himself usually but for this he comes out. I suspect he’s rather… pickled.”

“Pickled?”

“Er, drunk,” he clarified.

“Right now?! It’s mid-morning!” There, that seemed more in-line with what she expected of the King. 

No, this wasn’t the time nor place. She quickly adjusted her expression from scowl to instead a broad, open smile. People were watching her and Seokjin. This was, after all, their first public outing together.

It was very important she impress her people.

She waved and almost missed Seokjin’s explanation, “Well, it’s my mother’s birthday tomorrow.”

“Shouldn’t you smile and wave?” she whispered back. “People are seeing us together for the first time.”

“Oh right.” His face, thoughtful for a moment, shifted quickly into a broad grin. It was inspirational how quickly he dropped the obviously sad topic. She recalled vaguely the Sunflower Festival was something his mother had loved but forgotten it under the stress of this first outing. She’d had a special gown made for this, and woven sunflowers into a crown across her hair, and was appeased now to see she had not overestimated and overdressed.

Music murmured in the distance, louder as they traveled down the main street. Temporary stalls had sprung up, townfolk selling flowers and roasted nuts and sausages on a stick and glass pendants and leather satchels and anything else you could think of. Side streets showed similar, branching away from this main thoroughfare. And everywhere, sunflowers. Everywhere. They reached a square and the fountain in the center was absolutely buried, the water nothing but a pool of sunflowers rippling as small children grabbed at them. 

Nasimiyu felt the eyes on her and loved it. She held her chin high and the prince close, sporting the soft smile of a benefactor, eager for everyone to see how compatible she was with the royal family. Seokjin certainly played his part, pointing out things to her as if she didn’t have eyes of her own to notice, but at least it gave the impression of a man eager to please his adored. She nodded encouragement –yes she saw the man playing the accordion (a little grating, shouldn’t he go down a side street?), yes the children in their frocks were adorable, yes the dog wearing a giant fabric sunflower around his face was so funny. Seokjin laughed, delighted at it and leaned forward, trying to coax the dog close. The owner was beside himself at this attention and practically melted at Seokjin’s feet while Seokjin laid his praise of the dog on so thick Nasimiyu thought the man would realize how fake he was. It had to be fake. No one was that enamored by a dog in a costume…

“Do you want a sausage?” Seokjin asked and at first Nasimiyu thought he meant the dog. But he rose quickly and touched her arm and his whole face glowed with joy. “Or roasted peanuts? Or do you like candy floss more?”

Nasimiyu realized with shock that Seokjin was offering to get her food from one of the roadside stands. Anything could be in that food! The meat could be undercooked or the peanuts could be infested with bugs, you wouldn’t even know. It wasn’t that they didn’t have street vendors in Marvono but she certainly wasn’t eating from them.

But he looked so hopeful about it she almost felt bad to crush his enthusiasm with, “I don’t think I do. Thank you.”

Behind him, Namjoon let out a sigh, “Ah the fried chicken is back, I can smell it. Where is it?”

“Is that the only reason you came?” Mindeulle tittered.

“If you’re going right to the candy floss, have someone take you– no, just wait, we’ll get that first and then go find the chicken,” Namjoon said.

Seokjin craned his neck before nodding, “It’s over there. I think it’s the same family as last year.”

“Do I get a beer first and let it get warm while I get chicken, or get chicken and then it’s cooled off by the time I get a beer?” Namjoon sighed. 

Seokjin looked pensive and then dubious –playfully so, mouth twisted into a pucker, eyes narrowed– and then sighed with a smile of surrender, “If you have an idea just say it. Don’t play like a flirt around me.”

“I’ll get beers if you get the chicken.”

“Don’t you have people who can… fetch these things for you?” Nasimiyu pointed out, gaze sliding to their servants standing uselessly behind them. Her own maid might not be very knowledgeable here but surely that Jimin could figure it out. 

“It’s good for the people to see us among them,” Seokjin countered. She didn’t think that had to mean waiting in line like a nobody. He gestured across the square where, to her utter disbelief, King Donggun stood in line for a mead barrel, hands resting on his belly, fingers twitching impatiently.

“Impossible,” Nasimiyu gasped, giving Seokjin her look of disbelief.

It was Mindeulle who giggled, “Isn’t it crazy to see the king standing in line? But it’s because of the Queen, isn’t it?”

“Yes, he loved my mother so much he was willing to stand in lines,” Seokjin laughed, then elaborated, “This whole festival was for my mother. She loved sunflowers and she missed being…” He searched for the word before suggesting, “Ordinary.”

“She was never ordinary. She was a noble from birth,” Namjoon countered. “From Rinsk.”

“Yes but she was raised very simply,” Seokjin said. “Riding horses, gardening, camping for fun. She had to make her own bed once a week –my grandmother insisted on it, that it was the foundation of being a good queen.”

“And did that get passed on to you?” Nasimiyu tried to tease.

Seokjin nodded, “Oh yes, I’m very good at making a bed. Clean sheets are one of the greatest feelings in the world. Don’t you think that?”

“Well… yes. I think so too,” she admitted. Couldn’t argue with that. At home servants would fan the bed so when she’d slip into it naked at the end of a long hot day, it felt like the coolest caress across every inch of her skin. 

King Donggun let out a happy laugh that reached them across the square as he found himself at the front of the line for mead.

She pressed, “Does he really pretend to be a commoner for the day?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Seokjin laughed. “You see his clothing and his entourage. He’ll have patience for exactly three lines, I bet. It was more when he had my mother to stand in line with. They’d go around all day eating the food, drinking mead and beer, listening to music… I got to run wild for the day too. My brother and I were nearly street urchins for eight hours except for our pockets full of silvers. We ate ourselves sick.” He sighed at fond memories she did not poke at. 

“You could be the kind of king who does this all the time,” Mindeulle pointed out and Seokjin gave her such a fond smile that Nasimiyu almost felt jealous of it.

“I suspect I’ll be too busy once I’m king… but who says I don’t lead a secret double life as a commoner already?”

Namjoon sighed dramatically and teased, “Do you really still spend all your time reading those picture-books? That’s who you mean, isn’t it?”

“Kalamouche?” Mindeulle asked. “They’re charming. I’m glad you still find moments of joy, Prince Seokjin. Nasimiyu will need to as well, though I don’t think it’s the food here for her. Why don’t you go get your chicken and beer, we’ll find something else to do.”

Nasimiyu hesitated. The whole point was to look besotted with Seokjin, to exude an air of calm and benevolence and wisdom as a future ruler. No one would think oh look at our future queen, we’re so relieved if she was just running around with Mindeulle.

But now Seokjin and Namjoon were making a gentleman’s agreement to divide and conquer –apparently Seokjin could tolerate Namjoon after all, once there was food involved– and in short order they and their entourage were gone, and Nasimiyu had only Mindeulle and her own entourage for company.

“It’s all right not to trust the food,” Mindeulle assured her. “Though some of it is very good. I usually let my brother be the tester before I try anything but let’s go that way and we can look at the flower statues. Maybe you’ll see a pastry that catches your eye.”

“Is it a competition?” Nasimiyu guessed as they wandered down a side street. Statues of dancing women and galloping horses and curly seashells lined one side of the road, all carefully constructed of beautiful blue and pink and white blooms. It felt oddly off-theme considering the sunflowers everywhere else but pretty all the same. Where did they even get these spring-looking blooms at this time of year?

“These come in from Therepin. The summers are cooler there so the blooms last longer, especially far to the south.”

“Not near the border,” Nasimiyu murmured, thinking of marching soldiers crushing the buds underfoot.

“They’re the most beautiful there, I hear. I’ve never been anywhere close of course. I’m sure these are very expensive to bring here but no expense is spared for the Sunflower Festival.”

“I can see that.”

“It’s romantic, isn’t it?” Mindeulle pressed. “I think for one day, the King tries to pretend that his queen is still here, maybe just down another side street…” They both stopped to look over their shoulders because Mindeulle had a wistfulness in her voice. The pause let Nasimiyu realize that her guard were doing such a marvelous job at keeping a perimeter around her that it let her forget just how bustling the streets were. No ghosts of queens, just hundreds of townfolk gawking at her as they passed around her bubble of space

“People sure do stare,” she pointed out. “I don’t have anything between my teeth, do I?”

She knew she didn’t, and Mindeulle only beamed at her, “I think they’re surprised at how beautiful you are.”

“You don’t need to flatter me,” Nasimiyu said, instinctively insulted by such a compliment from the lovely Mindeulle. Her long, shiny black hair caught the light, cascading around her shoulders and down her back, all dark ink instead of the warm hues hidden in Dulce’s long waves. Her heart-shaped face was without flaw or blemish save for one beauty spot beside her nose that managed to be the loveliest imperfection. Nasimiyu had no doubts about her own beauty, but felt suddenly self conscious if Mindeulle felt like Nasimiyu needed comforting.

Mindeulle actually covered her mouth and laughed, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you with a compliment! I only meant that you look especially goddess-like when you have sunflowers in your hair, their color against your skin and hair is just… breath-taking, that’s all I meant,” she rushed out. “You already look like a queen.”

“Without the prince by my side, no one knows who I am.”

“I think they know,” Mindeulle insisted, then nudged Nasimiyu up the street with a gasp of, “Oh, but you should try those. Will you?”

“Will I try what?”

Mindeulle cheeks dimpled on either side of her smile as she leaned around the line at a stall that smelled so strongly of sugar that Nasimiyu wrinkled her nose. She was not big on sweets, even when the sweets weren’t hawked on a street corner like spoons or boots or whatever it was people typically bought from street vendors. But Mindeulle practically vibrated in place as she dug coins out of the purse at her waist and purchased four skewers of candied fruit.

“Grapes or strawberries?” she asked as they stepped aside. Nasimiyu glanced over her shoulder at her guards who looked stoic and alert and maybe like she was stupid for coming here. Her maid watched with open curiosity, as Nasimiyu’s food preferences were well known among her staff. Mindeulle must know she didn’t prefer sweets, she thought she must have said so before, but had clearly forgotten in her own enthusiasm.

“I suppose… strawberries,” Nasimiyu chose, only to correct, “No, grapes.” Sometimes grapes were sour and that was a little better than the cloying sweetness. She could pretend like she was drinking sweet wine maybe. No, she didn’t even like sweet wine.

“Have one of each,” Mindeulle insisted, handing her two sticks, like she had planned this all along. She took hold of a candied grape between her teeth and slid it right off the stick. Nasimiyu’s eyebrows raised. Wasn’t Mindeulle usually so proper and careful? Surely Namjoon would have something to say about his little sister biting and sliding fruit just right there on the street. 

By Mindeulle’s grin, Nasimiyu wondered if she had the same thought. There was something to her smile as she chewed, giggling,

“Listen, you can hear the sugar crack.” She opened her mouth and bit down. The sugar did audibly crack, and juice flooded Mindeulle’s mouth, and Nasimiyu couldn’t hide her shocked laughter.

“Mindeulle!”

“Don’t scold me like my mother,” she tittered. “Try it.”

Nasimiyu did, goaded into it by Mindeulle’s brazenness. She tried a strawberry first, trying to be a little less salacious as she bit the fruit off the thin stick. The sticky sweetness in her mouth made her lips pucker and her cheeks suck in. 

“That’s… very sweet,” she admitted.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” 

Why was she eating this? But Mindeulle’s enthusiasm convinced Nasimiyu to try a grape too and agree with Mindeulle they were really something remarkable. 

Just as Nasimiyu was trying to figure out how to subtly chuck the fruit away, a familiar voice called, “Princess Nasimiyu!” Lidmila floated to her side, admitted there by the guards at a nod of Nasimiyu’s that was probably not necessary. “Oh, I love those.”

“Try them,” Nasimiyu quickly said and thrust them into Lidmila’s hands. A loud street band wandered past so she couldn’t hear whatever Lidmila or Mindeulle shouted next, but Lidmila quickly popped the remaining fruits into her mouth and Mindeulle didn’t even seem to notice. Nasimiyu needed something to wash her mouth free of that sugar –solved when another divine intervention sent Seokjin and Namjoon their way, each holding fried chicken on a stick and a mug of beer.

“Is all the food on sticks?” Nasimiyu asked, followed immediately by, “May I have a sip of your beer, Seokjin?”

“Yes, of course, I’m sorry I didn’t get you one. Do you… like beer?” he asked. She did not particularly, and after only a sip wondered if the fruit hadn’t been the better lingering taste. He chuckled as she handed it quickly back and instead held the skewer out. “Chicken?”

“No thank you, I’m quite full.”

“Oh let’s walk down that way and see if there’s a play on,” Mindeulle suggested.

Namjoon snickered and teased his sister, “A puppet show?”

“Or a comedy.”

“The comedies won’t start until later, it’s only puppet shows right now.”

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s not even noon yet.”

“There’s one way to settle this,” Seokjin suggested and forged ahead. Namjoon and Mindeulle followed, and Nasimiyu found herself shockingly left behind with Lidmila.

“Did he just forget me?” Nasimiyu gasped.

“No, he looked back for you!” Lidmila assured her. “He sees you’re with me. Probably he’s trying to keep Namjoon from bothering you.” 

This placated Nasimiyu, who didn’t mind walking with Lidmila anyway. 

“Do you want me to suggest something else to eat?” Lidmila asked. “I think you don’t like candied fruit much or beer.”

“I don’t but I don’t think I’m brave enough yet for anything else.”

The crowds spread out further as they returned to a main street, walking vaguely in the wake of the others. They passed a balcony with a woman singing opera, which surprised Nasimiyu; she hadn’t considered there was any opera to be had here. She asked Lidmila about what the theater was like, what was popular here, and Lidmila enthusiastically explained all the entertainment to be found here.

“We can attend any of it you like,” Lidmila assured her. “I wonder if it’s very different in Marvono?”

“We shall find out. Oh, Lidmila, before I forget and while I have you alone…”

Lidmila’s face turned up to her, very open and curious, almost fearfully so, as she pressed, “Yes? What is it?”

“I wonder if I might ask for a favor.”

“Of course you may.”

“I would like to see the letters that Namjoon allegedly sent to Çiğdem.”

“Oh.” Lidmila’s eyes widened. 

“I’m familiar with Namjoon’s hand from letters he’s written to the King which were shown to me. I’m curious if a simple comparison might tell us whether it’s a match or not,” Nasimiyu explained.

Lidmila pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes, adorably suspicious, and asked, “Did Mindeulle put you up to this?”

“I act on my own accord,” Nasimiyu assured her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you! Only I know Mindeulle has doubts which you didn’t share about the truth of his character, seeing as what happened with...” She didn’t need to say it. Your maid.

“Yes well I’m trying to understand what exactly did happen with my maid, and what Lord Namjoon Kim’s character is, seeing as he proves difficult for the Prince to shake.” They came into view of the stage and a seated audience of almost entirely children, and standing behind all the children were Seokjin, Namjoon, and Mindeulle, all three equally enraptured by the puppet show. 

Lidmila only glanced at the puppets before admitting, “She may not wish to part with them. Çiğdem, I mean.”

“Will you try? For me?”

“Yes, I can at least try. Hopefully I can do better than try. I’ll see if I can get at least one,” Lidmila assured her.

“Thank you, it means a great deal to me to have your help.”

Lidmila positively glowed, her wispy brown curls framing her face so sweetly that it struck Nasimiyu what a blessing it was that Lidmila was so good-hearted. Such an innocent face would be hard to say no to. She could do wonders with it, if she were someone with a sharper mind or harder heart. But then she wouldn’t be gentle, bubbling Lidmila.

“It’s a story about King Donggun and Queen So-yeon,” Lidmila told her after a loud noise from the stage made them both glance over. “He loved her so much he made this whole festival for her.”

“So I hear. How tragic that she died.”

“I wonder what Prince Seokjin will do to show his love for you?”

“Whatever it is, I intend to be around much longer to enjoy it,” Nasimiyu said without thinking that it might sound crass. 

Before she could correct herself, Lidmila agreed, “You will be. And don’t worry, I’ll make suggestions if it seems like the Prince needs some… proper good ideas.” Nasimiyu smiled at her appreciatively, she did seem quite adept at managing things. Her confidence that Nasimiyu would live a long time was also sweet, though arguably unfounded based on how long women seemed to last in the royal family –Zselyke notwithstanding. Which was, perhaps, curious and suspicious. She wondered what Dulce would think of that question–

If only she could ask Dulce, who could no doubt make sure she lived a long, safe life here, if she cared to. She trusted no one more with her safety. It was unfortunate Dulce could no longer be trusted with her confidence, or her intimacy, or… was it her heart? No, that would be pathetic.

She glanced back at her maid who was not Dulce, and her guards who were also not Dulce. A backdrop of sunflowers loomed behind them. Really, Dulce ought to have come to this, even if they were mad at each other right now. As beautiful as Mindeulle and Lidmila both looked around the blossoms, as beautiful as Nasimiyu looked with them in her hair, she was aware these were the flower for Dulce. Something about them… 

“Nasimiyu,” Seokjin greeted, suddenly by her arm. “I found you a seat. Come watch the show.”

“The puppet show?”

“It’s got romance and tragedy, and the puppet for my father looks shockingly accurate. Come on,” he insisted, practically dragging her along.

Nasimiyu decided she was probably going to develop a headache soon. Maybe. She kind of liked it here too, although maybe not watching a puppet show for children. Well, she supposed it was a good look though for her and Seokjin to watch an unobjectionable performance together. She perched on the bench he had claimed for her with Mindeulle and Lidmila on either side, and tried to look queenly with her chin high and shoulders, Seokjin stood behind her, hand pressed to her shoulder. Eventually he dropped his hand and she was glad.

“Do you like puppets?” Mindeulle leaned in and whispered.

“No,” Nasimiyu whispered back, and both girls giggled as if she, like the puppets on stage, was doing something remarkably romantic by being here. Instead she let her mind wander. How long were she and Dulce going to be angry with each other? Would Dulce have liked the candied fruit? Would she have slid the grape off with her teeth like Mindeulle had? 

Namjoon’s chuckle reminded Nasimiyu he was there and she felt her heart harden again. It was good Dulce wasn’t enjoying the festival. Hopefully she was enjoying doing the laundry instead.

What few footsteps remained seemed to echo around the palace, a combination of clipped, angry steps by those annoyed not to be off at the Sunflower Festival and slow, heavy slides of those who did not feel intrinsically compelled to get their tasks done quickly.

Dulce tried to make no sound at all as she moved through the near-empty halls, a load of laundry perched in her arms and an oversized canvas bag looped over her shoulder with feathers and lightweight wooden rods poking out, and secretly a lantern. To any casual observer, it would hopefully look like a bag full of hat-making things –not that Dulce knew the first thing about making hats, but the bulky decorations were the best disguise she could envision for what would soon hopefully be several stolen paintings. She didn’t plan on being seen afterwards, but you still had to think through these things.

Already she’d had to reroute twice and was just about to make up her mind that she should take the long way out back and down the mountain to the external entrance hidden behind the ivy after all. It would waste time though, was the problem. She had a lot to do in a short amount of time. King Donggun had left the palace, which she understood to happen only for hunts, but his reason for leaving was to attend the Sunflower Fest in honor of his late wife whose birthday was tomorrow. She might not understand their relationship but she fully expected him to visit the Queen’s rooms in the near future, possibly even today, and she needed to be long finished by then. 

The only obstacle was fucking Hoseok, that damn nosy tutor to the prince! Despite his loud enthusiasm about the festival for the past week, he sure seemed unbothered to be one of those left behind to tend to matters around the palace. He strode along as if it were any other day, delivering letters and notes around the palace, checking that the throne room was clean, and even apparently doing a headcount of the guards! The palace had both a castellan and butlers supposed to be doing those things, but no one seemed surprised to see Hoseok doing it instead. They just scurried to dust the corner he’d looked twice at or rushed to reassure that the new table linens were on the way and would be pressed and laid out before dinner. Perhaps he was the sort of work-dedicated person who cherished a well-run palace even more than a festival.

His diligence was going to cause a problem for Dulce though because she was not the sort of work-dedicated person one would expect to see passionately going about her tasks without Nasimiyu around. Everyone knew Nasimiyu was pissed at her. They’d all probably heard Mirta shrieking at her about the laundry she hadn’t done when she’d gone to sit on the seawall and enjoy the sunset instead. With the Prince.

The problem about Hoseok wasn’t only that he was busybodying around the palace, but also that repeatedly seeing her would embed her in his memory. When someone eventually discovered the Queen’s rooms were ransacked, Hoseok would run through the list of people he knew were in the palace and Dulce would top that list if he saw her so many times. 

It led her to doing suspicious things like darting out of the hallway every time she heard footsteps in case they were his –and she hated doing suspicious things. 

One more try she decided, and balanced her linens and the canvas bag and set off for the Queen’s wing with a determined step. Her whole body was on alert listening for anyone who might see even just a glimpse of her, listening for the obnoxious click of Hoseok’s books on the tile floor, hell even the skitter skitter of an escaped pet of the Prince’s.

But nothing came, and the guards in the wing were ambling down the hall and around the corner at just the right time so without even a heartbeat of hesitation Dulce opened the door and slid quickly inside. 

For a moment she stood there with her back to it, waiting as she had last time to make sure no one had noticed after all. She was met with only silence. This time too she made a brisk survey of all the rooms, checking the wardrobe to make sure no one followed Taehyung’s tricks. How mortifying to have been caught that way. She was no smarter than the man who’d been killed in the inn and suddenly realizing the hypocrisy of her judgment at his lapse made her feel even stupider.

Well she wasn’t here to self-reflect, even though something about the preserved rooms made it feel like the time to do so. Now that she was sure she was alone, she set the linens and bag near the door hidden in the back of the closet and walked more thoughtfully through the rooms. Her plan was set –trash the rooms, take the painting and a few other things, make it look like a burglary– and yet when it came time to execute, she felt an unfamiliar hesitation.

Maybe it had to do with Seokjin’s mother staring down at her from the wall. She stared back up at her and noticed once again how much Seokjin looked like her. He had her cheeks, which was not something she’d ever considered a son inheriting from his mother before. He had her eyes too and her nose, her faceshape… did he actually have anything at all from King Donggun? Her hair was lighter, there was that. Maybe his eyebrows were more like his father… She tilted her head–

No, this wasn’t what she was here for. She needed to get the job done and go. 

She reached for the painting and hesitated again.

Seokjin was going to be sad about her wrecking his mother’s room. There was no way around that. She hadn’t let herself think about that part of her agreement with Taehyung. King Donggun was treating Taehyung unfairly by not letting him have even a copy of the painting, but Seokjin hadn’t done anything to deserve the destruction of this shrine to his mother. 

Would Taehyung tell Seokjin? Why hadn’t Taehyung gone to Seokjin with this request since they were so close? Why hadn’t Seokjin helped him? She regretted now not having asked Taehyung before why Seokjin wasn’t in on this. Plausible deniability with the king? She liked having the full picture but it was too late to ask for more now. 

She wouldn’t destroy anything though, and anything she took could make its way back someday, either once Taehyung got a copy of his painting made or enough time passed that the one missing painting wouldn’t be suspicious. 

Carefully she lifted the painting with Taehyung’s mother down, and two others beside it from the wall in the bedroom and carried them to the closet to wrap in linens and tuck into the canvas bag after setting the lantern to the side. They were so much bigger up close and just barely fit into the bag, she wouldn’t be able to take as many as she had planned. She took several off the walls in the painting parlor and set them down so it would look like she’d been planning to take them too and been interrupted. 

Then she braced herself and pushed over the easels. The paints had long ago solidified but scattered across the floor with the brushes, one of the easels collapsed on itself while the others rested awkwardly, legs in the air. It looked silly. It wasn’t truly careless or destructive the way a thief would be as she cleaned out the place. 

She tried to do better in the bedroom. She pulled the blankets off the bed as if she’d been digging for jewels and pulled the drawers out of the nightstands. It wouldn’t make sense for someone to steal paintings but not the jewels, so she swiped several pairs of earrings, a necklace, a bracelet and a tiara, avoiding the reflection of herself in the mirror. Her insides twisted as she slid the things into her bag. She had no way of knowing if any of these were sentimental, if Seokjin would be gutted for them to go missing. He liked pets and flowers and books, he seemed sentimental enough to be attached to specific jewelry. 

Did she have to take everything of value? She paused and looked at the vanity and closet, stuffed with riches. A proper thief would take as much as they could carry, pearls and rubies streaming from their pockets and shoes and hat. A proper thief would certainly take the most valuable things, and jewelry was a better prize than paintings, more valuable, easier to fence. If she was truly trying to stage a burglary, she should do the same, drag away as much as she could, prioritize the small and easy to smuggle things. But she thought of Seokjin entering the room, looking around with horror at what had been done to his mother’s rooms, and felt like someone was physically holding her back.

The painting of the family, of Seokjin and the late prince Seok-ho as boys, caught her eye through the mirror’s reflection. She turned and looked, wondering if the family had been happy. It was a complicated question to answer. Happy? Or at least happier when they weren’t half of a whole? She didn’t know how much Seokjin came in here. Did he come in here and look at the painting and pretend? 

She tugged the locket out from where it nestled deep in her bodice. The intricate floral pattern embossed on the front was nearly worn smooth by years brushed under her thumb. She opened it and tried to remember the portraits that had once hidden in the hollows. She would never have considered herself a sentimental person. She wasn’t. If she needed to shed the locket –and on several occasions she nearly had– she would. But looking up at the painting of young Prince Seokjin, she knew she had to leave that particular painting, even though part of her wanted it. For why? It wasn’t like she could put it anywhere. She already wasn’t sure where Taehyung was going to keep the big painting of his mother. It was over half her height, he couldn’t stow it in the bunkhouse where the yard boys slept!

Taking too long, she scolded herself and promptly swiped everything from the vanity onto the floor. Not every thief would destroy the room as she went but she wanted it to look like someone careless or thoughtless or even possibly hateful of the royal family. These things would divert suspicion from both her and Taehyung. She was none of those things, a truth that clinched in her belly as she flinched when the late queen’s combs and cheek powder and lip stain hit the floor. The ornate flowers popped off a particularly beautiful comb that Dulce regretted not taking for her own personal stash, if she was someone who could be so selfish and collect stolen things. The queen was wearing it in one of the paintings. It was beautiful and now it was broken and shame made Dulce sweaty.

Had she done enough damage to move on? She slipped into the queen’s closet and found herself stunned once again. The volume of clothing and jewelry here was overwhelming, even beyond Nasimiyu’s closet in Marvono. By comparison, Nasimiyu was practically impoverished with how few gowns she had here, fewer than two dozen until her new ones were made. Dulce had three sets of clothing to her name, not including the shift she slept in.

She took a couple pieces of jewelry –two rings and a bracelet– and slid them into her pocket, then simply tugged clothing from the hangers, again to look like she had meant to take things, or pilfered through for secret valuables. Even though she was leaving many valuables just sitting right in the open. Hopefully no one would find these things too odd but even if they did, at the very least it wouldn’t point to her. 

Dulce surveyed her work. It didn’t seem like enough but she couldn’t bring herself to do more. There wasn’t anything personal for her in destroying this sanctuary, though she suspected Taehyung might have done significant damage. Or maybe not, since the Queen had been kind to him. But now these were the King’s rooms, not hers. 

Hoisting the canvas bag was significantly more cumbersome now. Dulce, on the small side, had to clumsily shuffle along with it in front of her, the straps digging into her wrists so it wouldn’t drag on the ground, the lantern wedged in at the top. Wrangling the secret door open and closed behind her was a feat, though a sense of relief came over her once it was closed and she was alone in the pitch black. There, it was done, she hadn’t done too much harm, and she was out.

Dulce was used to moving through the dark, but this dark was so total it made it hard to breathe. She should have lit the lamp before closing the door but her gut had said to hurry, that she was going to be late or caught. She dug the flint and steel from her pocket and made sure her back was to the paintings before she struck it. It took a few minutes of feeling around before she could send a spark in the right direction, and the whole time drawing steady, measured breaths to keep her mind from drifting away from her in this total void. She hadn’t known it was possible to drown in darkness. 

The wick lit and her shoulders released. 

As tempting as it was to leave the things right by the ivy door, she had to expect that the first thing the King would do was charge down the secret passageway to see if the thief had entered that way. Instead Taehyung had drawn her a map to get to a particular hidden spot in the caves where he would retrieve the paintings and from there supposedly take them to a secret and trustworthy painter who would make his copies. That was beyond Dulce’s job.

The map was difficult to follow in the dark with the lantern and the canvas bag and Taehyung’s unskilled linework. Several times she took wrong turns, felt it in her gut, and had to backtrack to make sure. The caves were a maze, and the first time she accidentally stepped into one of the massive caverns gave her a scare like nothing ever did before. It felt like a death sentence to be down here alone. Trapped. By and large helpless. Weighed down with stolen goods. The dark creeping close behind.

She paused to let her body acclimate to the rush of fear and gazed up at the fake starry sky for what comfort it could give. It was beautiful, like nothing she had ever seen, somehow so like and yet so alien to the actual night sky. Personally she thought Paloma’s broad open blanket of night was even more beautiful but maybe that was because it reminded her of freedom and eternity all the time she had slept beneath it and this here was oppression. To never be able to leave this, to always amble through the dark for generations, to not even know you were missing the sun…

Hell might look like this. Dulce followed none of the minor religions that had taken root in Yeonhalbi and yet she thought hell might look just like this.

At last she felt certain she’d found the spot. Instead of wondering how much time Taehyung had spent here to notice and even map this spot, she quickly unburdened herself of the paintings, after fishing the jewels out of the bottom of the bag and shoving them into her pockets. The tiara wouldn’t fit and she held it awkwardly in her hands, not sure what to do about it. 

Noise behind her made her dive for shelter behind the stones hiding the paintings, tiara clutched to her chest, preventing her from dragging out the blade instinct told her too. Likely just an animal, but still she waited, crouched, breath steady and quiet.

Footsteps padded closer, paused, then shuffled closer again, then another pause. She glimpsed a blue directional light bouncing off the wall against the yellow glow of her lantern and realized it was a person. Shit. She had hoped not to cross paths with any of the gamekeepers down here; she didn’t know how many there were or what habits they kept, but Taehyung said there were only a few and not to worry about it. 

Well she was worrying about it now as she listened to the crunch of slow, careful footsteps. Obviously footsteps now. Inspecting the light she had foolishly relied on. She’d been caught, shit! 

She fished the dagger out from her thigh, annoyed still that she’d lost the one Nasimiyu gave her, usually easier to grab from her boot. Then she crouched, waiting, ready to pounce if the person did indeed discover her.

The figure stopped. She could only make out the rounded shadow moving closer to her abandoned lantern. Nothing else was left out there, she was sure of it –but then why did the figure pause so long beside the lantern and crouch down? Damnit, she should have extinguished and hidden the lantern as soon as she had light to see by. These were the sort of mistakes that got you killed.

“It’s dangerous being in the caves alone,” the man said, a weak and aged voice that evaporated in the heavy atmosphere as soon as the words were spoken. “To get out from here, put your right hand on the wall and take every turn you meet, never take your hand off. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”

With that he ambled away, his blue light rocking with his steps. Dulce remained tucked away until she was sure he was gone and only then slid out from the cramped space. Gingerly she picked up the lantern and looked around for any sign of who it was or any evidence of what he might have been looking at. Was it just the lantern? There was nothing else she could see. He was gone, her lamp left where she’d set it.

May the gods have mercy on your soul. Was it a threat? A warning? Sympathy? Did he know who she was or what she’d done, or was this how he handled anyone who wandered into the caves? It had sounded like Master Boutros, the game master she had met in these caves on the hunt so many weeks ago, but she couldn’t say for sure. Maybe everyone sounded like that when you made them live in an underground cave. 

She took the tiara and tossed it as far into the cavern as she could. It disappeared quickly over the lip of the cliff she didn’t go anywhere near; she’d turned her back before that and let her right hand lead her out, just like he had said. She had no reason to believe it wasn’t a trap except her own gut at this point. She let some of the jewelry fall from her pockets on the way. Not to the ivy door though, to a different one she learned as she stepped through it, this one further down the mountain path than they had gone for the hunt. Just how turned around had she been in there?

Aware she had been gone a long time and that her thieving may already have been discovered, Dulce hurried back up the path to the palace, slowing when she neared the yard so she could make sure no one was in view before sliding through the gate. Her heavy pockets tugged with every step so she held them down and continued her steady gait through the yard, into the palace, through quiet halls until she reached Nasimiyu’s room. If anyone saw her at this point, she didn’t care; her scowl likely put them off. 

She only grabbed a parasol from Nasimiyu’s wardrobe so she’d have a reason to make her way to the Sunflower Festival and meet up with Nasimiyu, –or rather with Taehyung, who was supposed to make sure he was visible to all and easy to find. From Nasimiyu’s window she tossed several of the jewels into the bushes far below, then set off again. On the way she took a detour through the hallway that ran near Prince Seokjin’s room and let one of his mother’s rings fall from the window into his courtyard. A bracelet joined it from another window. It wouldn’t make any sense why a thief would drop the jewelry there, but obviously Seokjin wouldn’t have taken it. Confusing was ok. Better than making a mistake while trying too obviously to throw people off your scent.

There were only a few things still in her pockets now and for a moment she contemplated hiding them in Mirta’s bed. But no, Dulce wasn’t someone who sought petty revenge on her own account. Instead she took a walk through the Queen’s garden to reach the front of the palace, and along the way pressed a ring and a bracelet into the dirt beneath a sweet statue of a little dancing girl.

The empty pockets should have left her feeling light as she set off for the Sunflower Fest, but she still felt weighed down. She’d tried to not take anything too sentimental looking but what did she know? No way was that tiara ever getting found. Once the things in Seokjin’s courtyard were found they’d probably scour the palace and find some of it but maybe not the things in the cave, which Master Boutros would probably find and thrift. Who would think to look under the statue in the garden?  

Shit, what was wrong with her though? As if the royal family actually needed so many jewels, or specific jewels. How fortunate was it to own things at all? She’d barely made a dent in the queen’s rooms. There was so much there, if she hadn’t made a mess they might not have even noticed anything but the paintings were gone. If all of this was in service of Taehyung getting the painting of his mother, then so be it. The King and Prince could cry into their remaining riches.

The strong scent of wilting sunflowers had snuck up on her, the noise of the festive town kept back by her thoughts until she reached the main road and its bright yellow glow. She paused to stare up at an arch made completely of flowers reaching far over her head. Probably it had been beautiful hours ago but now the leaves were curling, the petals starting to tumble from the heavy, sagging stalks. 

People crowded the main roads so densely it was difficult to move through, their feet trampling any flower that broke free from where they’d been tied to every surface, strung up rootless for the spectacle. So many of them it almost hurt to look at, second only in awe to actually walking through a field of living, growing sunflowers. Actually, pushing her way through people was not that different than stalks, trying not to trip on the children who darted past like energetic rabbits, avoiding the bumps and tugs of folks nudging past on their way to food or music or spectacles. A man juggled flaming torches, one of which landed too far and crushed a statue of flowers, impossible to tell what it had been, while the crowd shouted and laughed. Musicians tried to get a group to dance but there wasn’t space. A baby in her mother’s arms reached out a hand and poked delicately at the center of a flower, enraptured until a man jumped around it and shouted to scare the child, who promptly burst into tears while her mother scolded the man. 

But Dulce couldn’t appreciate these little moments because it was too busy, too crowded, and she had somewhere to be. She wound her way through the maze of townsfolk, following the main roads as she suspected Nasimiyu would. She kept her eyes peeled for Nasimiyu’s tall dark head, or the uniformed guards, or a wave of people who might be circling around the King. Would Naimiyu and Prince Seokjin stay near his father or wander off on their own? Taehyung had promised to be near Nasimiyu and Nasimiyu would be…

Dulce had no idea. She’d never been to this sort of thing with Nasimiyu. She didn’t know what Nasimiyu would be drawn to. Nothing, was her guess.

So where would the Prince go? Food. But food was everywhere. Maybe music, which he seemed to like even though he claimed not to like dancing. But music was everywhere too. It seemed to usher forth from the flowers themselves, there was so much of it. Everything was so loud and bright and everyone was so happy and Dulce wondered if she had always been different or if life had made her different, to feel so incapable of joining this outpouring of community.

She moved away from the nearest knot of musicians. She wished she could find that cafe the Prince had shown her and hide in there but they were in the wrong part of town. Her stomach rumbled at the scent of delicious food but there wasn’t time. She needed to tell Taehyung the job was done so she could wash her hands of this and forget she’d been involved at all. Maybe she’d bum some coins off him and get something to eat.

A curtain of sunflowers swung across the walkway and somehow not been torn down yet. She walked through to see the fountain too overflowed with them, and children crowded around poking at them –except for a young woman who sat on the edge, and a man knelt before her, asking a question that made her shriek and throw her arms around him, and someone nearby grabbed a flower and ripped the petals off and made them rain down on the couples’ heads as they kissed.

Dulce couldn’t decide if the Festival was tragic or beautiful. Part of her envied the folks who could afford to bring whatever they wanted in the world right to their doorstep, and part of her despised the ruin of something when the flowers could have been left where they were instead of brought here to die, and part of her didn’t care at all. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered –flowers or jewels or tiaras or nice dresses. All these people who would enjoy the fair today and then back to lives of lonely drudgery tomorrow. The food they would eat and shit out, the beer they’d vomit up, whatever cheap goods they were scammed into buying. At best the children would remember the day as magical and then someday find themselves chasing an impossible joy before confronting the reality that it was only the glow of childhood that had made reality seem so lovely.

She didn’t regret that this was not something she could connect with, that’s just how it was. 

On a whim she reached for the chain of her locket. The locket was the stupidest, most sentimental thing about her. She’d nearly tossed it many times to prove a point, only to keep it after all. It was a weakness, finding comfort in rubbing her thumb over the embossed face, she knew that. She would never risk her life over a piece of jewelry, and yet she still had it–

Had. 

It was gone.

“Nothing matters,” she quickly, defensively reminded herself. A woman’s scream interrupted her, timed in such a way she thought it was in her head. Still, she instinctively spun as people suddenly bolted, and in the cleared space not two yards away, she watched a man leave his knife in Seokjin’s chest.

It hadn’t occurred to Seokjin until just now what a terrible meeting place the fountain was. It was right there, right in the middle of everything, and everyone was watching him, every step he took. He’d noticed it the second they walked through the sunflower arch, him with his bride-to-be on his arm. He knew the people would be curious about their future queen, but he hadn’t expected them to stare at him so much. He was just the same ol’! Did they think he was undergoing a transformation now that he had a fiance and was only weeks away from being a husband?

August now. November 1st they would marry and the woman loosely holding his arm would become his wife for the rest of his life.

Seokjin turned his attention to thinking about what food he might like to eat today. The smells flooded his senses, leading him by the nose along the street. He wanted to see all his options and choose carefully; he also wanted to buy everything that appealed to him and eat until he had to be rolled home, like he hadn’t since he was a child. 

It would not endear him to Nasimiyu, that was for sure. He didn’t think she’d eaten a single thing since they arrived, certainly none of the things he had offered. It almost left him glad that Namjoon was hungry and eager to trawl the food vendors, just so he wouldn’t do it alone. Not that he minded being alone, but sometimes it was fun to do something not alone, even if just to discuss whether that peppered fruit had been spicy or if the chicken skewers were too chewy or if the takoyaki had too strong a flavor. Not that he really cared whether Namjoon enjoyed the food or not but it was something. Dulce would have understood and appreciated the food, he was sure of it. He didn’t think she would agree with him on everything but it would have been fun to learn. He wished he knew her well enough to predict.

Was he just going to think things like that now and pretend like it was normal? Maybe. He didn’t feel in the mood to be scolded right now.

“Do you want to wander that way?” Nasimiyu asked. She didn’t want to sit still for any of the shows or eat any of the food and yet she seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself and he couldn’t figure out why. He couldn’t decide whether to take it at face value or accept it was faked and play along.

But Seokjin couldn’t wander that way because he needed to meet with “K.” She hadn’t given him a time, only told him to meet her by the clock tower, which loomed down over him now from the nearest corner of the square. He also didn’t know what “K” looked like, only that she was someone who had known his brother closely –close enough to know that Seok-ho had broken a vase when they were children for which Seokjin had been blamed. Not just any vase, but one their father’s mother had made with her own hands. The men in their family were nothing if not sentimental. Seok-ho had let him take the blame, and though he didn’t make a habit of that sort of thing it had always lingered with Seokjin, that early lesson that his blessed, beloved brother could be selfish too.  

He glanced around, expecting someone to approach, but probably K realized the difficulty as well, that it would be impossible to get him alone for any sort of private conversation. 

Nasimiyu still eyed him expectantly and he felt he had no choice to nod and follow. Lidmila and Mindeulle wound around them and though he reached for Nasimiyu’s hand, she didn’t seem to notice and strode ahead, confident he would follow. It was nice to see her forming such good friendships with the other women, even if it felt strange to see her so close with Mindeulle. He wouldn’t have expected that. But hey, great! Wonderful. Probably Nasimiyu would want Mindeulle to stay and Namjoon would use it as an excuse to stay and Seokjin would never be rid of him. 

He watched her duck under a curtain of sunflowers to follow Nasimiyu and was struck by the realization that any special fondness he’d ever held for Mindeulle had settled so peacefully into brotherly affection that it was hard to recall if any actually had existed or if his father had only put that thought there. He wouldn’t have even called it a crush, but whatever it was, it was snuffed out entirely; at most maybe it had been a distant affection of childhood. Had Nasimiyu entering his life really taken over his senses so profoundly?

Music suddenly struck up behind him, making him startle and spin. Marks and Jungkook were close on either side and remained stoic but Jimin grinned and Seokjin pretended not to know why. There was something familiar about the band though, and it took him a moment and a few steps forward to recognize them. It was the band that had played for the wedding he and Dulce wandered through that day in the city, when he’d almost asked her to dance, he was sure of it. It amused him to think about what she would have done if he had. Her agreement at the ball had surprised him, so maybe she would have surprised him that day too, but he thought it more likely she would have stared at him with those wide dark eyes –the same color as the center of a sunflower. Or maybe it was more like her hair, with that hint of reddish glow. 

No wonder it felt like she was everywhere today despite being nowhere. If she’d come to the festival at all, he sure hadn’t seen her. Nasimiyu had brought other attendants. He’d seen Yoongi drinking a beer earlier and Taehyung was lurking nearby, pretending not to be visible, but since Dulce wasn’t with either of them, he thought that meant she hadn’t come. Or she was avoiding him. Probably it was for the best either way.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Jimin asked, sidling up to him. “Is the scent of the flowers going to your head?” He reached up to fix Seokjin’s collar and the braided trim looping from his shoulders. Wouldn’t it be a lot more fun here if he hadn’t needed to dress up? But Hoseok and Jimin insisted, and Nasimiyu would have been disappointed if he’d stepped out with her for the first time in a vest with no jacket. Still, he was just waiting for someone to spill something on his white trousers.

“Hmm yes, it’s that,” Seokjin joked, wafting the air towards his nose only to playfully cough. “Yes, still smells like Priva under there.”

“Did you mean to let the Princess leave you behind?”

“Ah, no… oops,” Seokjin admitted.

Jimin circled him, as if checking that nothing else was amiss with his outfit or maybe enjoying the clear ring of space the bodyguards maintained for him.

“You seem distracted today. What’s got into your head?” Jimin pressed.

“What do you mean? It’s the Sunflower Festival! Which means there’s absolutely nothing going on up there,” Seokjin assured him. He couldn’t understand why Jimin eyed him so suspiciously, even leaned close to peer into his face.

“You didn’t sit up all night reading, did you?” Jimin guessed.

Seokjin laughed –guiltily, truth be told– and cried, “What do you scold me, is that your place? Where’s Hoseok or Master Jung, that’s their job, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know where he is so I’m taking it over today. Where do you want to go now? Chin up, shoulders back, look your best.”

“Don’t speak so familiarly to me in public,” Seokjin teased. “People will think I’m a lenient prince. Where’s my fiance? Take me to her now!”

To Seokjin’s confusion, Jimin paused for a moment and looked at him in a way that felt pointed, or curious, or suspicious. Something that wasn’t the normal way Jimin would look at him and it made Seokjin self conscious. He wiped at his face in case there was something there but felt nothing.

“Is that what you’re worried about? I don’t know, you don’t tell me what you’re thinking these days, so how can I serve you? All right, I will take you to your princess,” Jimin said, suddenly animated again. He turned towards the curtain through which Nasimiyu had passed now some time ago and Seokjin took a step after him.

“Excuse me, do you want your fortune read?”

The voice reached him across the space and general noise of the festival, cut right through as if his ear marked it familiar, though it wasn’t. Seokjin turned to see the woman who had approached to address him, though no closer than Marks would allow. 

“Your fortune read, Your Royal Highness?” The woman looked vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite recall where he’d seen her before. Her long face was pretty, though her dress was simple, her dark blond hair pulled back in a low ponytail. She reached up to touch her face and then tugged at the neckline of her shirt, where a heavy ring hung on a string, her only adornment. A moment longer than he would have admitted it, he realized the ring was a signet ring –his brothers, most likely, and that this woman might be, must be “K.” 

“You’re a fortune teller?” he asked, wondering if that was true. He worried now he might be falling prey to a scam, or maybe this woman believed in whatever warning she read from the cards he didn’t believe in– but how had she got his brother’s ring?

“I have my tent only here,” she said and motioned behind her. It was almost a tent. Barely one. A couple heavy dark curtains were tied up, creating a small private space right beside a bustling side street.

Seokjin could feel the distrust rolling off Marks as the bodyguard nudged her back and tried to move Seokjin along, but he simply stepped around the bodyguard and agreed, “Yes, let’s see what my palm has to say.” 

“Wha–” Jimin began but Seokjin ignored him and reached for the tent. He could see Marks thought this was absurd but he had no right to tell Seokjin no, and only motioned for the woman to wait as he stepped into the tent first, clearly with intention to stay.

“I’ll get my fortune told alone,” Seokjin announced. “You can all wait outside.”

“But Your Highness–”

“But Ser–”

“Do you think she’s going to slip poison into my mouth from across the table?” Seokjin demanded, gesturing to her as she waited at the opening. 

“It’s not safe for you to be out of sight and alone,” Marks insisted.

Seokjin knew he was wasting time and decided, “Fine, Jungkook can come in with me. I guess I’ll be less embarrassed for him to hear if I’ve got a rotten fortune.” Anyone could have seen Jimin was hurt by this exclusion, so Seokjin pointed out, “It’s too small and Jungkook’s the bodyguard. I’ll tell you anything juicy over snacks tonight.” He didn’t wait for an answer but slid through the opening of the sheets after Marks had stepped out and Jungkook in. The woman came in last and tugged the curtain closed, then sat on one of two stools in the cramped space. There was a small table, but no cards or anything, only a single candle that put off an outrageous amount of heat as it burned low.

By it Seokjin saw her glancing warily at Jungkook, so he started in a quiet voice, “Are you K? You may speak freely in front of him, he’s both a bodyguard and a trusted friend.”

“I… if you say so…”

Jungkook’s brow scrunched in confusion and he opened his mouth to ask something but Seokjin tapped his lips with his finger and Jungkook stayed his tongue.

“We won’t have much time without seeming suspicious,” Seokjin told her, sitting on the stool and leaning close. He was already beginning to sweat in the trapped heat. The drapes did an eerily good job of muting both light and sound from outside but for all he knew Marks and Jimin were listening close and while he trusted at least Jimin, it was clear the woman was nervous.

Suddenly it struck him where he’d seen her before and he asked, “How are your children?”

“Oh. You do remember me?”

“Yes, it was you with your sons. Is he all right, the one who was hurt?”

“Yes, he’s all right. They’re with my mother right now.”

“So you can work? You’re a… fortune teller?”

“I’m not actually. Is this really so convincing? It’s the only way I could think to get time to speak with you.”

Impressed, Seokjin studied her concerned expression and asked, “What is it you want to talk to me about? Is that why you came to court that day? And why do you have my brother’s ring? Who were you to my brother?”

“His wife,” she breathed out, the word so airy and impossible that Seokjin thought he must have misheard.

“Pardon?”

“I am the wife of Seok-ho,” she said again, a little clearer. 

“Um…”

“And those children you saw are his,” she added. 

“That’s not possible,” Seokjin said as he racked his mind to see if it could be.

“I wish I had time to tell you everything, to tell you our entire love story,” she said. “It distressed him not to tell you but of course, I was secret. It wasn’t you he didn’t trust but everyone else.”

“How could he have a secret wife and children?” Seokjin argued. “It’s not possible.”

“We met here in the city. He used to visit the tavern I worked in–”

“My brother didn’t visit taverns.”

“He did,” she insisted. “In secret. I didn’t know who he was, he was always dressed as a commoner –handsome though. So very handsome.” Seokjin couldn’t say anything. It was impossible. It didn’t sound like his brother at all. “We fell in love. He bought us a house outside the city we met at sometimes, other times we stole time together in secret here. We married and I had our children and then… then he went on a military campaign he never returned from.”

Seokjin didn’t hide the confusion from his face. How else should he look when meeting a woman who insisted that his brother the royal prince had led a secret double life?!

She tugged the string over her head and handed him the ring.

“He gave me this and told me that if anything ever happened to him, I could contact you if I felt in trouble. He was certain you would understand and help his wife and children.”

“Yes of course I would but…” Seokjin looked at her, looked for any hint in her face she was crazy or lying. But she looked sincere, and the ring was real, and her story, as outlandish as it was… well, there was a flicker of belief among the doubt. He had always suspected his brother had a secret affair but he’d been thinking penpal, not commoner wife in the country. “But what did he think was going to happen? What did you think? He was going to have to marry as king.” 

“I don’t know, to be honest. It’s not that I liked the secret life but a barmaid can’t become a queen and he was afraid for my safety if I was known. Your father never would have let him marry me. Sometimes he thought he would run away with me but he didn’t want to leave the crown to you.”

“Astonishing faith in me.”

“I meant– he said because you didn’t want it, and he wanted to protect you from the expectations and let you be free,” she corrected. “I didn’t explain it well. I don’t come from money or nobility or education or anything like that. But I loved your brother with everything I had, and he loved me back. I knew it every day, whether we were together or not. I would have lived my entire life his secret if I had to. We both knew something might have to change as the boys got older. My older one looks so much like him but he died before anyone could notice.”

Did he? Seokjin couldn’t remember at all, he hadn’t been paying attention except to the injured one. He certainly hadn’t been looking for traces of his brother. 

“Why did you come to court if you wanted to stay hidden?”

“Your father knows about me,” she said. “And the boys. I don’t know how, but Seok-ho was certain and after that day in court, I’m positive as well. I think he even recognized me before I spoke. His whole face changed when he saw me and then my elder son. It wasn’t until my younger wandered up to the throne that he… well.”

“He’s sentimental about the chair that belonged to my mother.”

“I understand but you see, the reason I risked it, I had sent him a letter and I wasn’t sure he received it, or if he dismissed it. I think my life and that of my children is in danger.”

Seokjin didn’t dance around the truth and admitted, “If anyone knows about you, that’s probably true.” He paused, then added, “Technically your sons are in line ahead of me for the throne.”

“I don’t want that for them. That’s not why I sent you or your father notes,” she insisted. “The complete opposite. I just want to go far away and raise them in safety.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Money,” she said. “That’s the simple truth. Seok-ho meant to leave us with everything we would ever need, but the account he set up for me was suddenly empty one day and the bank wouldn’t tell me why. I wanted to know if your father emptied it. I can only think of a few people who would have the authority.”

“Who besides my father? We can’t just demand a bank account be turned over to us,” Seokjin argued. “And besides I don’t know why my father would do that.”

“I sent him a letter… I told you that. I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” she admitted and only now did he realize her hands were trembling on the table. He reached forward and covered one with his own. Did he believe her or not? He didn’t want to. He wanted to remain suspicious. And yet he found himself believing her more with each word she spoke. If he accepted that he hadn’t known his brother very well at all –which was honestly, very true– then maybe this all sounded exactly like something his brother could and would pull off. It was why he would have made a good king. He knew what he wanted and made it happen. He couldn’t be swayed or coerced. He could do the impossible.

“I understand but you’re the safest you’ve ever been right now,” he found himself reassuring her. “Nothing gets past Jungkook.” The space was so cramped, it was more true than ever; Jungkook was practically resting on his back, hanging on to every word is disbelief, no doubt.

“Good. That’s good, that’s very good because I think you’re in danger too– sorry, I should say first, I don’t think Seok-ho’s death was an accident.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t, he was the king’s son in a war.”

“No, I mean– I mean I think he wasn’t killed in the battle, I think he was killed because of what he saw,” she said. 

Seokjin was so heated by this point he thought he might faint but kept his hand on hers and asked, “What did he see?”

“I don’t know except that it had something to do with your uncle. He sent me a letter within a letter and asked me to make sure it was delivered to your father. The letter to me only said not to read it and that your uncle needed to be held accountable, that he had seen things he wasn’t meant to see, and that if anything happened to him, it would be even more important the letter reach your father.”

What was in the letter?! The need to know was going to drive Seokjin crazy but unlike Dulce, this woman seemed to not read other people’s letters. 

“You really don’t know what was in the letter?”

“I wish. I wish I did. I should have read it… I did what he asked and brought it to the palace and put it right into the hands of… I don’t know his name but he’s always by the king. Dark hair, big nose, always dressed very nicely–” 

“Could be anyone,” Seokjin muttered.

“Maybe Master Jung,” Jungkook murmured and Seokjin thought that could be true. 

“If so it would have reached my father, that’s as close as you could have got.”

“I should have insisted on handing it to your father myself but… but I was so afraid of him, and I didn’t know how to get to him anyway, and I was very tired with child… so many excuses now!”

“You did the best you could. You did what my brother asked,” Seokjin tried to comfort her. She pulled her hands away to brush her hair back, though it was all still in place. 

“I waited for another letter but none ever came. I had our second son. Hoya never saw him. I learned he’d died alongside everyone else in the city when it was announced.” She covered her face and drew a deep breath, shoulders shuddering.

“Everything all right in here?” Jimin asked, head suddenly poking through the flap.

“Ah, my fate is so tragic, it’s moving her to tears!” Seokjin called back. “Leave us be, it’s a rather good story.”

Jimin sighed and let the flap closed, but Seokjin heard him mutter to Marks, “It’s too hot in there, he’s going to faint and you’ll have to carry him home.”

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin said. “I… I wish I had something better to say.”

“Your uncle did something and Seokho wanted your father to know and he died for it. But what can I do about it? If I’m found out, he’ll kill me and our children too.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook thoughtlessly said and Seokjin tried to subtly elbow him. He needed to be less wrapped up in this tale and more alert to any danger.

She didn’t seem to have heard him anyway and continued, “Maybe your father wants us gone too, I don’t know. These are his grandchildren but– is it true, what you said? That they could have a claim on the throne?”

“Yes.”

“We don’t want that! But it makes it more dangerous for them, doesn’t it? If someone thinks that’s what we want?”

From me, Seokjin almost pointed out. He was the one whose claim was threatened by their existence and she had come right to him. And yet he would never have risked even a hair on one of their heads over the throne. His brother must have known that, too. Seokjin felt embarrassed with pride that his brother would put so much confidence in him. If only Seok-ho had ever seemed to think so highly of him while he lived, their relationship could have been so different…

“It does and you can’t help that,” Seokjin assured her. “I can give you all the money you need to disappear. That’s easy. I can give you enough for your journey and send notes ahead to wait for you and I won’t tell anyone in the world where you are –only I will know. If you need more help you can send me a letter.”

“That’s… thank you. It feels wrong to ask…”

“It’s not wrong,” Seokjin said. “We’re family. As for what my brother saw and my uncle… my father…” He sighed and gave a sharp shake of his head. “I don’t know what to do about that.”

“Do you believe me?”

“That my uncle is doing something nefarious and killed my brother to cover it up? I don’t doubt it at all. I wish I knew more. The best I can do is ask my father but I’ll have to figure out how to do it without making him suspicious I’ve met you… I’ll figure it out,” he assured her, sounding more confident than he felt.

If his brother had been murdered by his uncle, there was justice to demand. But Seokjin had never been very demanding, and didn’t know how to start now. How was he supposed to investigate, or convince his father there was anything to investigate? Did his father really know about Seok-ho’s secret wife? If so, was he protecting her or ignoring or, or did he not know after all? Sentimental about his grandchildren or ignorant? He’d adored Seok-ho, surely he wouldn’t let his murder go if he had suspicions. His father and uncle disagreed politically all the time, but his father didn’t replace him which said a lot. He didn’t think his father would be involved in the same business but… but what did he know? Nothing. Seokjin Kim knew nothing about anything. 

He handed the ring back to her and said, “Go to Paloma. Go to the biggest town in Paloma. Here, I’ll give you all the money I have –Jungkook, give me all your money.”

“What? Hyung,” Jungkook complained, forgetting himself and being familiar. 

“Oh, no, it’s–” the woman tried, but Seokjin insisted, “Money is one thing neither of us is short on. Take this. If you tell me where you’re staying, I’ll send Jungkook with more and then you should set out right away, as soon as you can hire transport.”

“Paloma?”

“The biggest town,” Seokjin said again, because he did not actually know which one that was.

“And you’ll find out what happened to Seok-ho?” she asked, naked hope in her eyes. “It feels wrong for his death to be swept away like that. He wanted to fix something and… and I don’t even know if my letter got to your father.” 

“I’m sure it did and he just didn’t know what to do about it or whether it was really my brother, but I’ll lend my doubts to Seok-ho’s and find out the truth,” Seokjin assured her. Realizing he hadn’t asked, he did so now, “What’s your name?”

“Kanna,” the woman answered.

“And my nephews?” The words sounded fake. He had nephews? He felt hungry for family in that moment, for more than just his depressed, eccentric father and cruel uncle and Taehyung who seemed to taunt death constantly so that Seokjin was afraid to love him too much.

“Masao and Yori.”

He repeated the names and wished there was a way to meet them. There wasn’t that he could see, not that wouldn’t endanger them and their mother. Seok-ho had loved this woman. His dead brother had trusted Seokjin to take care of them after he was gone, and that touched Seokjin deeply.

“Why did you wait so long to contact me?” Seokjin asked.

“I… I didn’t think you’d believe me. I didn’t want to risk our safety but it’s getting hard without the money, and I can’t sleep at night worrying that I failed Hoya. It’s just been weighing on my chest that he was murdered and I didn’t do anything.”

“There’s nothing else you can do,” Seokjin insisted. “Will you take on my uncle all by yourself? You’ve told me and now I’ll take care of it.”

“Maybe I’ve put you in danger by telling you, but maybe you’re already in danger. Your brother worried so much about you. He spoke about you all the time.”

“Flattering things, I’m sure,” Seokjin snorted.

“He said you were the most admirable and infuriating person he’d ever met,” she told him. “He said you were too good to be king, that only someone as selfish as him could handle it but that… that because he was selfish, he couldn’t give me up either… He spoke so unkindly of himself like that sometimes. He was so haunted by letting you take the blame for breaking that blue vase!” she laughed.

Seokjin found himself laughing too, “He told you about that.”

“He said if I told you about it, you would know I was telling you the truth because I’m the only one he ever admitted to that he broke the vase.”

Seokjin shook his head and sighed and blinked back the tears as he muttered, “Damn him.” His brother had loved him so much after all? Seokjin had known him so little after all. And now he was dead and they would never get to share their love stories or let their children run wild together at the Sunflower Fest or watch their wives… do whatever it was sisters-in-law did together, he didn’t actually know.

“Your Majesty,” Marks called from the flap and Seokjin understood he had lingered too long now. 

He took Kanna’s hand to squeeze as they both stood and insisted, “I’ll send you the money later tonight and the bank notes will be waiting in Paloma. Promise me you’ll go quickly.”

“I will. I feel much better having told you, having met you. I’m sorry we couldn’t know each other more.”

There was nothing to do but agree with that, and then let Jungkook lead him out of the tent where Marks stood alert. Jimin had grown bored and wandered over to join Taehyung and flirt with some pretty girls, but they both came over as soon as Seokjin was clear of the tent. He felt like he’d sweat out a tenth of his body weight.

“You look…” Jimin trailed off and looked around for something to fan him with.

“You were getting your fortune read?” Taehyung asked. “I want mine read.”

“Not here you don’t. It didn’t exactly seem… legitimate,” Seokjin said quickly, as if he didn’t want Kanna to hear. “Good for a laugh but I’m not sure she actually knows what she’s talking about. I’m supposed to get stomped by a horse before the next full moon, so mind you keep those beasts away from me. Ah, there’s Nasimiyu,” he said as she strode back through the sunflower curtain with a determined look on her face, clearly looking for him.

“And Namjoon,” Jimin added as he made a beeline for them at the same time.

“Well I know which of those two I’d rather talk to,” Seokjin laughed. “Taehyung, go.” He used the moment of everyone shifting around to lean close to Jungkook and whisper, “Stay here for a moment and make sure no one bothers her.”

“You got it,” Jungkook said and took a step back as Nasimiyu reached him.

“Where were you? I thought you were right behind us,” she accused.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted. I’ll follow you anywhere now,” he promised. He did not point out she had left him behind some time ago. Had she only noticed?

“There was a little dancing monkey,” Mindeulle gushed, all giggles with Lidmila. 

“Oh you saw the monkey?” Seokjin asked, before adding, “He’s here every year.”

“He was very polite,” Nasimiyu grinned. “Shook my hand.”

“You… like monkeys?”

“Yes, I like monkeys, if they’re clever or funny. Some of them are rather mischievous…”

Seokjin would never have expected this. It left him speechless, and unfortunately open to Namjoon successfully reaching them.

“Seokjin, your father is uh– I think he could use you right now,” Namjoon told him, leaning in but doing a poor job of lowering his voice.

Seokjin’s suspicion was immediate as he argued, “What could he possibly need me for? He doesn’t need me.”

“Just come on.” Namjoon beckoned. Seokjin knew exactly what his father would be up to today –running around like the most cheerful man on earth until he’d drunk enough for it to turn into longing for his dead wife, at which point he’d sink into despair and his guard would foist him away to the palace. No Seokjin needed. He felt no inclination to go now. He had a lot to think through. His was going to get indigestion.

But Nasimiyu followed Namjoon, which left Seokjin in the awkward position of having to follow as well. He did make one pitiful effort to distract her by pointing out a nearby shop with jewelry if she’d like him to buy her something nice instead of forging ahead to see whatever embarrassing thing his father might be doing. Not that Seokjin was embarrassed by his father in general, nor did he embarrass easily, but that was exactly it, that whatever his father was doing that Namjoon found so inappropriate Seokjin needed to rush to his side was in fact just the way his father was. 

“He was right here…” Namjoon said, stopping short and looking around. They’d stopped beside a tavern that had set up tables and several beer kegs on the sidewalk to let the celebration spill over. Namjoon craned his neck looking around while Seokjin counted his blessings and turned to Nasimiyu to suggest they wander like she’d said. He had a lot of trying of things bouncing around his mind and it would be better to just walk dumbly beside her for a while until he could reconcile the fact that he had a sister-in-law and two nephews who he would never see again. That his brother had hidden this from him, but also known he could count on Seokjin when needed, without explanation. 

“Oh there he is,” Nasimiyu said –or maybe it was actually Lidmila, but Seokjin wasn’t paying attention until Nasimiyu nudged his arm and Namjoon gestured for him to lead the way.

Confused, Seokjin pointed out, “He’s fine.” In fact his father the king seemed more than fine, one arm thrown out while he laughed around a deep mug of beer.

“He was on the verge of something just a minute ago,” Namjoon insisted. 

“On the verge of what?” Nasimiyu pressed and Seokjin found himself fond with gratefulness that she was taking his side. Not that there were sides between him and Namjoon in this but kind of there were.

“He was waving his sword around and beer in the other, shouting about love and death,” Namjoon said. Seokjin was not sure he believed him. His father’s sword was safely tucked away in its scabbard, not even a hand on the pommel, and he seemed perfectly in control of his emotions.

Until he saw Seokjin and let out a shockingly cheerful shout, “Ah, my boy!” Maybe that was a little suspicious, for his father to be so openly cheered by the sight of him. “Let me tell you, my son could never hold his alcohol, but this boy can!” the king added to the folks nearest him around the kegs. Seokjin suppressed a sigh. Was he proud or backhanded? He shouldn’t be calling Seokjin this boy to the people he would rule someday.

“Let’s escort him home?” Nasimiyu suggested. “We can come back.”

Seokjin gave her a look. As if he could escort his father anywhere. What an absurd idea. King Donggun would go where he wanted, when he wanted.

“Seokjin, Namjoon, come drink with me,” he shouted. “Nasimiyu, will you drink? I will gather the ducklings just like your mother would have wanted. Mindeulle, who are you here with, my son and other ladies? Time you met someone…”

Mindeulle inhaled sharply enough that Seokjin did step forward, interrupting, “Father, what, you want a drink with me? I’ll drink you under the table, old man. Your men there will have to carry you home.”

“You brat, I’ve been drinking beer since before you were a tickle in my balls.” 

“You should have stopped before you tickled, old man, I’ll unseat you,” Seokjin countered, and tried first to take the beer out of his father’s hand before simply accepting the one someone else handed him. He was trying to end this, not join the drink. 

“What other ducklings have we got around here? Everyone’s mothers are dead, isn’t that a joke of the heavens? Why is that? It’s not right. Our worlds revolve around them even after death, but they would forget us. Little Lidmila, I see you hiding there, your mother is still alive,” he called. “And can drink with the best of them!”

Lidmila looked like she wanted to slip beneath a table and evaporate. She practically dove behind Nasimiyu.

“Stableboy, I see you. Have a drink on me!” the king called and Seokjin didn’t know if it was paternal, or taunting, or if he was so drunk he’d forgotten about his own progeny.

“Why do you want to drink with the children?” Seokjin asked. “Where are your own friends, father?”

“Damn them to hell, I don’t know. Sleeping late I should think, or hiding from me. What’s wrong with them on a day like this, eh? It’s beautiful, beautiful, your mother will love it,” he said. 

Will.

“Yes, the flowers are beautiful,” Seokjin said and his father’s head lolled to the side and he grinned and sighed.

“They are. They are beautiful today. They’ll be gone by tomorrow. Their beauty never lasts.” He trailed off as he said it and for a moment Seokjin feared he was slipping into one of his stupors, which would make him nearly impossible to move home. Then he realized his father had forgotten himself and stared at Taehyung. Likely it wasn’t only the queen his father mourned today, but Seokjin wasn’t worried his father would let something like that slip. After all these years, King Donggun hadn’t drunkenly tattled on his own affair.

“They’d go running around together here, those girls,” King Donggun sighed. “Both of ‘em pretending to be commoners for the day. Sukdheep thought it was horrifying but she’d humor her, humor her anything. Are you as full of humor as your mother, Little Lidmila?”

“...Yes, sir?” Lidmila guessed, clearly not sure what to say.

“Where’s your mother today?” the king asked. “I was never as close to her… but I look around and everyone is gone but the two of us. Just me and the ducklings left. I’m the last one who should be left with all the baby birds. Two clumsy hands, I’ve got!” He waved the mug of beer and some sloshed over his hand and splashed onto Seokjin’s shoes and across the trousers of one of the king’s guards, who stepped back in surprise. “What’s wrong, afraid of a little beer, you coward?” King Donggun laughed and flung the rest of the beer directly onto the guard.

“Father, that’s rude even for you,” Seokjin scolded, trying not to sound shocked in case it just egged him on further. The guard stepped back, stoic but whole body stiff with obvious anger. Seokjin didn’t even know the man’s name, he must be on the newer side and maybe hadn’t understand what he was signing up for.

“Who do you think you are?” Donggun demanded, then suddenly softened as he looked at Seokjin and admitted, “You look so much like her, it makes me love and hate you.”

“Is that so?” Seokjin said. He’d meant to say something funny but his mind had betrayed him. He didn’t want to be near his father anymore, not today. His father was just drunk and vacillating between bitter and nostalgic. Seokjin and Nasimiyu didn’t need to be here to witness it. His father had taken care of himself for this long and didn’t need an loved-but-hated son tidying him up. Namjoon knew that by now, Seokjin didn’t see why he’d been fetched, unless Namjoon felt like Seokjin should be up for some emotional torment –not that this was much of anything. It barely registered. Hadn’t his father just said he loved him? That was nice.

“Her eyes were always laughing too but she was kinder about it,” Donggun said just as Seokjin began to turn, to lead Nasimiyu off to something more fun than this. The complaint made Seokjin hesitate –his father could be painfully, cleverly cruel when drunk, but his voice sounded almost hurt. 

“Wha? I’m unkind? What can–” you possibly mean by that Seokjin had begun to say, turning back after all to demand his answer, just as a man slid into the space left by the guard who’d turned to dab the beer off his suit. Just as this man raised the knife. 

It wasn’t that he thought about whether to act or not. Honestly, it was stupid of him, wasn’t it? How embarrassing, that despite nearly twenty-five years of training, Seokjin’s instinct was not to disarm or even attack the man. He did in fact grab the man’s wrist as he dove between his father and the assailant, but failed to shove the weapon safely away. Instead he noticed how surprised the man looked as the blade sank into Seokjin’s chest, sliding in his left side with little resistance until the blade scraped against bone. Seokjin didn’t know a blade could skewer a body that gently. He had never dreamed how obvious the scrape of blade against his bone would be.

Things happened very quickly but they felt slow to Seokjin. Someone screamed. Multiple people screamed. Someone knocked the assailant away and Seokjin looked down at the knife protruding from his body when there wasn’t supposed to be something sticking out of him like that. Someone grabbed his shoulders and spun him around and his father shouted at him,

“Are you stupid?!”

“I think so,” Seokjin mumbled as more people grabbed his arms, he wasn’t even sure who, but it felt like he was falling. Nasimiyu looked worried, that was nice. Where had Dulce come from? Had she always been here? He was falling –no, he was being eased back onto something. Someone reached for the blade, or their hand was close, and he shouted because everything in his body told him that something wasn’t supposed to be there and it burned but it would be worse if it wasn’t there anymore. He didn’t want anyone touching it. He didn’t want anyone touching him either but Jungkook’s face was over his and he could hear Jimin’s voice shouting for people to get back. At least he thought that’s what the urgency meant.

Seokjin shouted as it felt like he was thrown into the air but he was only lifted. The board was hard beneath him and didn’t let his body curl in around the pain the way he wanted to. Without meaning to he reached for the blade, maybe it needed to come out after all, but a hand grabbed his arm and pressed it down to his side.

“Don’t let him take it out.” He recognized Dulce’s voice, or maybe she’d said that before, everything was all out of order right now. It was Nasimiyu’s hand holding his arm down. Jimin held the other arm down. He didn’t like being held down like that and complained but no one seemed to care, or maybe he wasn’t quite saying words. It didn’t hurt the way he’d expected it to but it was impossible to breathe or move. Maybe that had more to do without everyone moving so quickly around him than the injury. It was just a small knife. Wasn’t it not a big deal? It went in so easily, it could come out so easily too.

“Hey, hey,” he called to any of them that would listen. It didn’t feel right to be lying on his back on a plank as Jungkook and Marks carried him. “Don’t you know I have an image to uphold? I’m not dead, let me walk!” Everyone was being way too serious and it scared him. Was it worse than he thought? 

“Stay still,” Jimin scolded.

“At least carry me on your shoulders like a king, let me sit up.”

“Just be quiet right now, hyung,” Jungkook said. “You’ll be ok. You’ll be fine. Just let us get you all to safety. You won’t die.”

“Yah, why don’t you sound sure?” Seokjin laughed, then winced. He didn’t want the people around him to panic but damn. Something was wrong. It was suddenly so cold, and wasn’t that someone thought right before they died? What if the blade had gone right into his heart and he was bleeding out…

“Ok fine run faster, I’m tired from doing heroics,” he said, wincing as the board jostled.

“What?” Nasimiyu asked, then, “What did he say? He’s so quiet…” He appreciated that she sounded worried. She did, didn’t she? That was good, for his future wife to be worried about him when he got stabbed in the chest. But where was she? She wasn’t holding his arm anymore, Taehyung was, and Nasimiyu was gone, and Dulce was staring down into his face –no, it was sunflowers overhead as the board was loaded into the back of a wagon. So many people were shouting still and Seokjin only just realized it because it hadn’t stopped so he’d tuned it out. 

He cried out as the wagon jolted into action, and beside him Jimin rubbed his hair and soothed, “It’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. You can’t die yet so you won’t, everything will be fine.”

“I’m not going to die,” Seokjin agreed. “This doesn’t seem like a good day for dying. I just need to lay down for a while.”

“You’re already laying down. Seokjin? Seokjin?”

Nasimiyu couldn’t bear to be next to Seokjin in the wagon –not that his guards wanted her there anyway. His manservant Jimin practically bodied her away as the wagon began to roll, but when King Donggun called for a horse, she echoed his demand, and so the two rode in the dust of the wagon with half their guards mounted around them, half running alongside to shout people away from the path. It was panic and chaos, between the people who didn’t know what was happening except it was something terrible, Lidmila and Mindeulle who both fluttered around like trapped moths as she left them behind, even in her own heart that couldn’t believe what she had just seen and didn’t know what it meant. Seokjin couldn’t die yet. This wasn’t her doing. Neither of them were supposed to die until she was securely married, so who had done this?! He must be in so much pain.

She reached the palace yard and let the horses be taken control of and didn’t spare a second thought about it. They were slowly lowering Seokjin from the wagon to carry inside but he wasn’t making any noise and she didn’t know what that meant. If he’d been stabbed in the heart, he would already be dead. She couldn’t tell. Even though she saw the knife slide into him again each time she closed her eyes, she wasn’t sure where it hit, and she found herself too afraid to draw close. Instead she looked around, trying to figure out who did this, and whether she was in danger too. She took steps towards Seokjin, then back towards the yard to look for Dulce, then towards the palace because Dulce would tell her to get somewhere safe, right? That’s what she should do. Where was safe when she didn’t know who had just attacked the King and Seokjin, or why, or if she was next?

“Go to your room,” a voice commanded, as clear to her ear as if it had been whispered there. She looked back as Dulce appeared on a horse behind Mindeulle, Lidmila and her mother on others, Namjoon as well. Apparently more houses could be found after all, and in a way Nasimiyu felt like the true guard had just rolled in. They were in the palace and these people would keep her safe. 

Dulce slid from behind Mindeulle –what a place for Nasimiyu’s maid to ride! She wondered how that had come about but was too frazzled to ask. Instead she waited for Dulce to approach, and urge again,

“Go to your room with your guards in with you until we know what happened. Unless you already know?”

“I don’t know,” Nasimiyu insisted. “This wasn’t…”

“So go,” Dulce said again. They both watched as Lidmila’s mother went racing into the palace, where Seokjin and the King had already gone. Dulce looked like she planned to run after them.

Nasimiyu grabbed her arm, “Come with me too. Please.”

“I’ll come with you,” Lidmila said, leaping from her horse to Nasimiyu’s side in no more than three steps. Mindeulle and Namjoon were arguing in hushed whispers several yards away as the stablehands ran around shouting about whose fucking horses were these? As if that mattered right now. 

“Yes, both of you,” Dulce agreed. “Go. I’ll find out what’s going on.”

“No, come with us,” Nasimiyu argued. “What if there’s someone…”

“There’s no one–” Dulce began but was cut off by a woman’s shriek from within the palace. It was not the direction the others had gone. Nasimiyu’s instinct was to jump back onto the horse and ride far away but Dulce dashed without hesitation in the direction of the scream. Mindeulle and Namjoon ran after Dulce, and Nasimiyu’s feet carried her after them without meaning to. Lidmila grabbed her arm to hold her back but Nasimiyu felt tethered to Dulce and Mindeulle and Namjoon; she took Lidmila’s hand and pulled her along, too. Nowhere was safe but these people she was following were probably the ones who could protect them best. Everything Dulce had taught her about self defense had left her mind.

It wasn’t clear who had shrieked, but the why would never be forgotten. Seokjin’s bodyguard –the young one, not Jungkook but the other young one whose name Nasimiyu didn’t know– hung by the neck from the balcony, his bloody body swaying at the end of a velvet sash. A piece of paper was pinned to his chest though no one could read it from below.

“Don’t cut him down!” Dulce shouted at the servants rushing around the balcony. “Pull him up gently.”

“She’s right! Don’t disturb anything that could be on his clothes!” Namjoon yelled. “Don’t do anything until I’m there!” To those close, he muttered, “For all we know they’re fucking in on it. Nobody can be trusted right now– All of you get to Nasimiyu’s room and stay there with the guards– Dulce, you go with them.”

“I need to–”

“You need to get your mistress and these ladies to safety,” Namjoon ordered. “I’ll deal with this. Go!”

“I’ll help,” Mindeulle offered her brother.

“No I can’t keep arguing with you, all of you go and hole up until we know who’s doing this.” He gave Mindeulle a rough shove towards Nasimiyu and set off at a run for the stairs, shouting again at the servants not to do anything until he was there. 

Dulce looked furious, conflicted, but not afraid and Nasimiyu wanted to wrap around her. In the chaos, of course Dulce would be calm and sure of what to do. Nothing would get past Dulce. If Nasimiyu hadn’t sent Dulce away, maybe Dulce would have even stopped the blade before it got to Seokjin. Nasimiyu was sure of it.

“Dulce,” she called, reaching for her, accidentally bumping Lidmila, who had her hands over her eyes. 

“Go to your room. I’ll be there after I see what’s happening with the prince.”

“But Namjoon said–”

“He doesn’t give me orders and neither do you. All three of you go now, I’ll be there soon, you know my knock.”

That order given, Dulce took off. If Mindeulle and Lidmila were shocked by this behavior between the two of them, they said nothing, just looked to Nasimiyu for the first step forward. Nasimiyu tried to pull herself together despite the sick feeling of helplessness. 

“All right, both of you with me. Guards, follow close. We’ll set up a safe space in my room for now.” Her voice sounded shockingly stable as she led the way, fists balled to hide the shaking of her hands. This was no time to fall apart. Just because someone was hunting the royals and their guards for sport, didn’t mean she was next. She wasn’t part of this royal family. Yet. 

Why the fuck wasn’t Dulce with her?

The palace was in chaos but they cut through it, not slowing their steps until all three women and several extra of Nasimiyu’s trusted guards and a couple of her maids were inside her room.

“Brace the door,” she ordered. “No matter what, don’t let those doors open until I say.”

“What do we do? My mother is out there!” Lidmila cried.

“I think she went to be with the King and Seokjin so she’ll be surrounded by guards. For now we… wait,” Nasimiyu said, looking around at those sheltering with her.

“For what?” the maid Bab whispered to Eula.

“Until I say so,” Nasimiyu said, loftily. Unwilling to say the real answer: For Dulce. 

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[sweetestofchaos]

Blackthorn Ch 15 | M.YG

Pairing: Crown Prince Dragon!Yoongi x Crown Princess Impundulu!Keena  Genre: Soulmate AU | Arranged Marriage AU | Fantasy AU | Fluff | Angst  Word Count: 9.9K  Warnings: Magic | Physical Violence | Shifting | Blood | Flashbacks Of The Past | Murder | Talks of Reincarnation | Crying | Depictions of Betrayal | Kissing Rating: NC-18

Forgive Me - In another lifetime, Agust knew what happiness was.

a/n: As always thanks to @sailoryooons for making the banner and being my beta. Shout out to @theharrowing for being another set of eyes!

a/n 2: like before there will be ⚠⚠⚠ to show where murder starts and stops, if you want to skip that part

Character asks and the taglist for Blackthorn are always open! Minors do NOT interact with my work, please and thank you. Also, this is cross posted on ao3, under the same username sweetestofchaos.

Taglist: @thickemadame @loisje123

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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Silver and gold, two colors that had not existed in the same space in eons, met silently. Agust’s body was frozen as glistening tears spilled from those all too familiar silver pools. A single drop of blood plopped down from the ceiling and splashed on Ceyeh’s cheek. A small river of tinted red streamed down her face, yet she made no move to wipe it away. Agust stepped forward with a hand raised and Ceyeh’s arm shot out with a startled gasp as she took a quick step backwards. The distance wasn’t much, a handful of footsteps, yet Agust felt that there were whole continents between them.

“My moon?”

Ceyeh’s silver eyes narrowed into thin slits as she glared at the animal spirit that spoke to her. Her lips curled over her teeth and the feathers on her shoulders bristled. Agust felt his forked tongue turn to lead. He couldn’t form any words, the hatred in Ceyeh’s eyes was a harsh reminder of their past. 

A water drop from his hairline, tinted grey, slid down his face and seeped into the open wound by his eye. Agust hissed, his right eye slammed shut as the pain blurred his vision. Ceyeh took the moment to flee and ran out into the rain. Agust growled, his chest rumbling violently as he spun on his heels and took chase.

Black leathery wings sprouted from Agust’s back and carried him through the rainstorm. The chilled winds and icy rain threatened to freeze the strong appendages, but Agust refused to lose Ceyeh. He would chase her to the end of the Earth, and further still, if he had to. 

The town flew by in darkened colors and distorted shapes as he followed the scent of rotten tangerines. The scent was a searing reminder of his past mistakes. Agust growled as he caught sight of brown and grey as Ceyeh darted around a corner. He flapped his wings harshly, just once to propel himself upwards over the houses. Below him, Ceyeh hid against a wall, the roofing created a small awning that shielded her from the rain but not from his sight.

Agust wasted no time, he had chased Ceyeh long enough. Pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes once more, Agust dived in the air and dropped right in front of Ceyeh. The bird spirit's feathers ruffled and she swiped at Agust with her talons. Agust easily caught Ceyeh’s wrist with one hand - the attack was half hearted. Afterall, he was in the body of the very man that Ceyeh’s host loved. He pressed himself into Ceyeh’s space and loomed over her smaller frame as he took shelter from the endless rainfall.

The two of them were soaked, a couple of drowned rats if anyone saw them. Ceyeh’s heart beat harshly as it drummed against Agust’s chest. She moved to push him away, she hated that he was so close. Her eyes were nearly glowing, bright and wide like the moon trapped in the sky. Agust narrowed his eyes and snarled in warning. He wouldn’t hurt Ceyeh but he would not accept her running from him again. 

From this distance, what little there was, Agust was reminded of the past once more. The rancid scent that filled his lungs, the blood on his hands, the uncertainty in Ceyeh’s eyes, it all reminded him of the times long gone. The memories raced to the forefront of Agust’s mind and drowned out any coherent thought as he was confronted with his past.

The air was chilled as the night clung to the dark. Its bleakness was all-consuming, a muted reminder of the light that was bound to come. In the far distance, a single tree sat atop of a hill, its silhouette nearly invisible as shadows wrapped around it. The shiny stars above twinkled and gleamed, and the moon casted a silver halo on the land. Nighttime in the spring was peaceful and filled with the songs of tear crickets.

A low rumble broke the silence and the sound of large wings cutting through the air echoed faintly. An enormous shadow covered the land, darker than the night as it soared past the fading moon. A melodic chirp called after the large winged being, and soon a smaller winged creature was by its side. Together the beings glided through the air. Feathers and scales were kissed with moonlight, iridescent and soft.

Day slowly pushed through the darkness of night. Black and deep blue gave way to ruddy red and warm orange. The clouds sprinkled a harsh shadow against the new backdrop as the sun started to rise. Stars glittered to a faded memory as the moon dissolved into the mellow yellow and lighter blue of the day. As the sun crested over the horizon, the two shadows in the sky were bathed in a pleasant bloom of light. Onyx scales shimmered and tiny rainbows were thrown onto misty white clouds as strong wings carried the body of the dragon higher and higher. Brown and silver wings fluttered in the air, gleaming as the sun warmed the body of the lightning bird.

Side by side they flew until they reached the hill with the single tree. The dragon swooped down first. His large body took up most of the space, and he curled his long spiked tail in front of his feet as he sat upright. He lifted his face towards the sky and grumbled a warning as the bird above hovered in the air. The dragon snapped at the air and thumped his tail once; the large limp shook the very ground he sat on. A teasing chirp filled the air and the bird flouted down closer and closer to the dragon. Silver eyes shined as they looked into swirling gold and the dragon started to shrink.

In the air the bird started to shift, and feathers rained down upon the dragon. A woman’s giggles followed the breeze as she danced in the air, wings sprouted from her back. Below, the dragon was not large like before but the size of a man who stood well above six feet. Both were nude but there was no discomfort as the woman allowed herself to sink into the awaiting arms of her lover. Her own ebony arms wrapped loosely around the man’s tanned neck as her wings folded against her back and were absorbed into her body.

“Looks like I beat you, my moon.”

The woman scoffed and tangled her fingers into the man’s long raven black hair.

“I let you win, mpenzi.”

The man huffed a laugh and blew out a plume of smoke through his nose as he lowered himself to the ground. He leaned his back against the tree and cradled the woman in his arms as she sat on his lap.

“Shall we test your theory?”

“I will be the victor everytime.”

The man shifted with a growl and trapped the woman underneath him, pinned to the ground by her arms and hips. The man had a smug smirk on his handsome face and the woman sucked her teeth. Willing the wings on her back to shoot out, she propled herself upward and sent the man sprawling onto his butt. She hovered above him, her foot pressed lightly against his chest as she smiled down at him.

“It is as I said, mpenzi.”

Agust blinked as his vision started to blur. The pain in his right eye had started to throb consistently, no longer a dull irritation as dye tinted water ran down his face. 

“My moon, you must stay by my side.”

“I am fine, mpenzi.”

“Ceyeh-”

“Agust.”

Agust huffed as Ceyeh walked ahead of him in a crowd. Snow crunched underneath their feet and Agust cringed. He was not accustomed to wearing shoes, nor was the amount of clothing acceptable, but he refused to let Ceyeh suffer alone. They were in an unfamiliar part of the world, up north to meet with humans that had requested their aid. 

It was colder than the land in the southwest but it wasn’t anything that really bothered Agust. He was a dragon and his blood naturally ran hotter than most creatures. Ceyeh, however, had a hard time. She lived for the warmth of the sun and the cool moon on her bareskin. Having to wear such thick clothing was unusual and made her itch. 

There were many layers to her garb while in the north. A tan linen dress with a rounded neckline was the base and worn over top was another dress made from wool, dyed a deep brown with white crisscross squares embroidered down the whole length of the front. Ceyeh’s shoulders and head were kept warm by a brownish-black woven cloak with a geometric design stitched throughout. The hood was adored with cowrie shells around the hem and white fox fur was on the inside to keep the wearer warm. Brown leather booties covered Ceyeh’s feet and cuts of fox fur were wrapped around her ankles with thin leather straps.

Agust thought Ceyeh looked lovely. The colors complemented her darker skin tone along with the tan and silver feathers that never left the creases of her eyes or cuffs of her ears. As a warrior, Ceyeh always stayed half shifted in case she ever needed to protect herself. Agust followed her lead, allowing his golden eyes to be framed in tiny black horns and his black scales lined his jawline and collar bones before they appeared in five inch patches along the rest of his body. Except at the small of his back and hips where the scales covered the skin fully and grew sparse as they went lower towards his inner thighs. When Ceyeh felt playful, she would teasingly compare Agust’s scales to that of a naga since their hip placement was similar.

Agust wore dark brown wool breeches with a tan linen round neck tunic. Over top he layered a brown cross collared wool coat with a brown-black woven cloak that had a tan and white swirl design stitched along the hood and hemming. His feet were covered with brown leather turnshoes and tan handwoven leg wraps. The darker tones made his honey tanned skin stand out, and his scales glistened.

“Ceyeh!” Agust called after his lover as she got lost in the crowd. He hurried his steps, ducking and dodging in between people as he followed the scent of warmed tangerines and sweet honey. He found himself in the town square in front of a large stone statue of who he assumed to be the land's first ruler. A flash of tan and brown flickered in the peripheral of his left eye and he pivoted on his heels. 

“Cey-”

Whoosh!

“Ack!”

Agust stood as still as stone as children’s laughter filled the air. His eyes were closed and his mouth was filled with an icy substance that melted on his tongue. He spit something out on the ground and wiped his face with his hand. As he looked at the ground, he saw the remains of a ball of snow.

"Ni nini maana ya hii?" Agust asked as he glared at the children, his anger pulled his native tongue from his lips, and Ceyeh appeared with a small child no more than three in her arms.

Ceyeh laughed, her face bright as she hiked the child up higher on her hip, “They call it a snowball fight!” 

Agust was at a loss for words. A snowball fight? He looked at the broken ball of snow and licked his lips. 

“Is it a declaration of war?” 

“Wema!” Ceyeh laughed as she shook her head. “A game, mpenzi.”

The discomfort was clearly displayed on Agust’s face. His lips pursed into a frown, a pout half formed as he brows pulled together. One single word bounced in Ceyeh’s mind as she looked at her ex-lover: Pallas. Ceyeh’s hand shook as she reached up to push away the strands of hair that dug into the open wound. Agust’s whole body tensed and Ceyeh stared unblinking as she tucked the uneven hair behind his ear. Some of the dye had started to melt away, patches of blond shined here and there.

The cut was deep but thankfully not jagged, it would heal in due time. Ceyeh was sure that it would scar and she felt something buried inside tremble in worry. She swallowed and grabbed Agust’s hand. Most of the blood had washed away from the rain, now his black clawed fingers were cold to the touch, his palm the only warmth. They stared at each other, chests rose and fell without a sound. The rain pelted the ground and mud splashed onto the bottom of their clothing.

Ceyeh tugged at Agust’s hand as he squeezed her fingers and she pushed against his chest. Agust didn’t move an inch and Ceyeh narrowed her eyes as a frown formed on her lips.

Ceyeh’s hand was laced with Agust’s as they walked through the town. Humans and creatures alike all placed their fist over their hearts and bowed their heads. Agust returned the gesture while Ceyeh smiled wide. Her hair was plaited into micro braids with small gold hoop rings looped into a few that framed her face.

Ceyeh wore a teal asymmetrical skirt with a white and gold brocaded chest band. A thin rope with red, white, and yellow beads rested against her waist with a single pixie crow’s feather attached at the center. She wore no shoes and walked with black feather anklets that brushed against each other if her steps were too small.

Agust was shirtless and wore a simple pair of white trousers that bunched at his knees and hung loose on his thighs. He too was barefoot and wore a single gold anklet on his right leg. Large golden earrings hung from his ears and his long dark hair flowed freely, his bangs pulled back and braided before they were wrapped together with golden twine. 

The market today was said to have beautiful goods and Agust was on the hunt for the perfect gift. Ceyeh had lost the last torment in her village and her spirits were a little low. She smiled and laughed, but it never reached her eyes. Agust couldn’t stand to see his lover down, and as he came upon a foreign vendor, he saw just what he had been looking for. 

Agust tugged on Ceyeh’s hand and pulled her towards the vender with a toothy grin. The sun reflected off the scales on his collarbones and casted a multitude of mini rainbows against Ceyeh’s chest as he turned towards her. The smile on her face was soft and true, endeared as she leaned into Agust’s chest and wrapped her arms around his waist as best she could. The dragon was large, even in human form. He kissed the top of Ceyeh’s head before he rested his cheek against her for a short while. They were in a world all their own as they basked in each other’s love, and when Agust pulled away, Ceyeh’s eyes were a pale silver and shined like freshly plucked pearls.

“I love you,” Agust breathed as he cupped Ceyeh’s face in his hands. Her fingers wound around his wrists and she smiled, melting into his touch. “Come now, pick your gift.”

Agust placed a warm, tender kiss upon Ceyeh’s lips and a high-pitched whistle slipped into his mouth. A mating call that never failed to make a sensual flame churn in his gut and threaten to consume him whole. Agust broke the kiss with only a few centimeters in between their lips. He smiled as Ceyeh chased after him and shook his head softly, teasingly.

“Pick what you will wear while I ravage your body again and again, my moon.”

Ceyeh pushed at Agust’s chest again and stepped forward, shoving them out into the rain. The water was startling and forced the clotted blood on Agust’s face to loosen and run red. Agust hissed as the rain stung the wound and he bared his teeth, unimpressed with Ceyeh’s actions.

Ceyeh pointed in the direction of the palace and Agust understood what she had wanted. He allowed for Ceyeh to lead the way. She walked with a purpose and Agust stared at the expense of her bare back where her jeogori had been ripped, showing off dark scarring that resembled ice crystals in the shape of wings. The mark of the lightning bird made Agust’s steps falter as he realized that the wings were just scars. There were no fully formed wings with sleek tan and silver feathers.

Agust closed his fingers into a fist and pulled his arm down at his side. He caught himself in time, he hadn't even noticed that he had raised his arm to touch Ceyeh’s back. Now, halfway to the palace, the rain had lightened and the bleeding cut on Agust’s face continued to sting as raindrops continued to bombard the deep wound. Wanting to get out of the rain as fast as possible, Agust pulled Ceyeh’s hand back harshly which made her stumble backwards into his chest. He was quick to scoop her into his arms and in the blink of an eye, his wings had sprouted from his back once more.

Ceyeh scowled at Agust’s wings, the large black appendages made her want to give him a matching gash over his left eye. Agust tightened his hold on Ceyeh and took off into the air with a single flap of his wings. Agust flew above the houses, only a foot above the roofs to avoid detection from guards and the village folk. Ceyeh watched as the world passed underneath her unknowing. A deep longing radiated in her eyes and as she looked away from the ground, Agust caught sight of the tears in her eyes.

Agust rumbled in his chest, a purr of sorts meant to comfort the woman in his arms as he flew closer and closer to the palace. Ceyeh closed her eyes, she didn’t want to see the view from above anymore. It was a mocking and painful reminder of what she had once had…before it had been stolen away.

Mid-spring in the northwest was humid at best. Full, fluffy clouds of white and blinding rays of sun glared down at the land from above and begged anyone to find shade. The lightning birds worked hard during the humid months and Ceyeh was no exception to the rule. In the middle of the day she would fly to the tree on top of the hill and wait until the sun was the highest in the sky. As she sat parched on top of the branches, she whistled a song that forced cool winds and heavy clouds.

A mild clash of nature created a low rumble as clouds rolled in from the north and filled the sky. The rumbling grew louder and at the first roaring crash of thunder, rain poured down from the Heavens. Thin, steamy vapors raised from the ground as it greedily drank in the refreshing liquid. Sometimes Mother Earth wasn’t fast enough in her gluttony and she choked on the water, sputtering so much that emptied river beds overflowed and villages flooded. It was as much a curse as it was a blessing.

The lightning never came, and Ceyeh sighed as she flapped her wings. Today would be a taxing one and she stopped her singing. The feathers that covered her body started to glow with a dim halo of blue silver, watery like the moon’s reflection on the rivers. Ceyeh’s eyes were a liquid pool of rolling clouds and endless skies. She flew high above and gave a mighty cry as she circled the sun seven times. Lightning cracked, a white-grey tree root in the sky before the electric light followed the rumble of the thunder. Ceyeh hovered in the air, her eyes focused on the flickering light that grew farther and farther away.

Satisfied with her work, Ceyeh turned back to her tree and chirped at the sight of Agust’s human form standing under the cover of the leaves. She flew to him and shrunk in size as she got closer. Agust smiled as Ceyeh landed on his shoulder and nuzzled into his temple.

“You did very well, little bird.”

Ceyeh’s wings ruffled at the teasing lilt to Agust’s voice and he laughed, golden eyes bright and gleaming. Ceyeh headbutted him and nipped at his hair, flapping her wing as she made sure to soak him.

“You will pay for that, my moon.” Agust laughed once more, his gravel-like voice softened at the edges with love. He pecked Ceyeh’s head and stroked the smooth feathers along her back.

“Shall we head home?” 

The palace wall came into view and Agust flew towards where the trees were the thickest. He blended in well enough with the cover of the clouds but he wanted to make sure no one saw Ceyeh in such a state. There was only one place that Agust knew they would be safest, and he flew into the seventh garden. He passed the lunch clearing, ignored the Blackthorns and flew right to the man-made water pool. As his feet touched the ground, his chest filled with strong flames and he blew them out onto the top of the water. The flames touched the stone waterfall and the runes turned a yellow orange before the water started to steam.

Ceyeh kicked her feet and Agust set her on the ground, a hand kept close to her lower back if she needed help. She stepped away from Agust and he resisted following her every step. Here in the cover of the trees, no rain fell down around them. 

Agust’s wound still bled. It throbbed and the pain spiderwebbed down the length of his face, just below his jaw. Ceyeh refused to look at him, her back turned as she crossed her arms over her chest. Agust’s clenched his teeth, now that they were alone and hidden from the rest of the world completely, he couldn’t seem to untangle the memories and feelings within his heart.

Bodies littered the ground, blood watered the grass, a mass grave had been built and it kept growing in size. Fire and smoke spread to destroy the land. It burned everything down until nothing but ash was left. 

In the carnage of it all, Ceyeh and Agust stood face to face. Agust’s eyes were ignited with hatred as he glared at the woman he once loved and trusted with his life. Ceyeh’s eyes glowed as sparkling tears littered her face like glitter. 

How had this come to be? What had turned her lover against her and her people? What had gone so wrong?

Agust lunged with a growl and tackled Ceyeh, who in turn used Agust’s momentum to flip them over. She pinned him to the ground, her forearm dug into his neck while her wings pressed into his shoulders.

“Yield!” Ceyeh demanded with tears in her eyes. “Agust, please? Stop this madness!”

Agust snarled, snapping his jaws while spit started to foam in the corners of his mouth as he tried to shake himself free. She had betrayed him and his people, the humans were here for their hoards and their scales. They knew too many secrets about dragons and the leader of the humans had given Agust one name.

“I will kill you!” Agust seethed, his eyes were large and bulbous like a wild boar as he honed in on Ceyeh.

“Agust!” Ceyeh begged as she tried to talk sense into him. She didn’t understand what had happened, and in truth, seeing Agust like this before her was soul-crushing.

She tried to smooth his hair from his face, tried to touch him gently but that only seemed to anger Agust more. He lashed out, stronger than Ceyeh had been prepared for and sent her flying onto her back. He pounced, caged her underneath his legs as he sat on her hips.

His smile was misplaced, something Ceyeh has never seen directed at herself before. It was wicked and cruel, taunting as Agust cupped her face gently. His claws pressed into the meat of her cheeks and drew blood. He hummed deep in his chest and turned her head away from him as he leaned forward.

“You did thisss to ussss, my moon,” Agust’s voice was warped, a hissing growl as he lost more and more of his control.

“Did what?” Ceyeh demanded, her voice full of tears as Agust licked the sweat and dirt from her neck.

Agust growled as he nuzzled into the softness of her throat, the vein pulsed quickly as she tried not to panic.

“The sssweetessst ssscents hide the worst sssecretsss. I wisssh not to hear anymore of your liesss!”

⚠⚠⚠

Ceyeh opened her mouth to speak and screamed. Blood filled her throat and lungs as Agust sunk his teeth into her neck and ripped out her vocal cords. Blood covered his mouth, it was bitter and as Ceyeh gurgled underneath him, Agust finally let his tears fall. Ceyeh’s hand shot to her neck as she tried to stop the bleeding but she knew it was pointless. She managed to pull herself out from under Agust and rolled onto her stomach. Blood spilled from the gaping hole in her neck and she wheezed, a sound choked by bloody bubbles. 

Wings sprouted from Ceyeh’s back, shining silver and warm tan, a sight that always made Agust purr. Now he scrambled to his feet as Ceyeh tried to fly away and his chest burned as he heaved a great billowing flame right at her back. 

Ceyeh dropped six feet from the air, her body hit the ground with a heavy thud and laid a yard away, unmoving. Agust was panting, his chest ached but he chose to ignore the reason why. He took careful steps in Ceyeh’s direction, his eyes watched for a hint of movement but he saw none.

As he stood a foot away, he saw that Ceyeh had fallen onto her face. The beautiful wings that he had admired so much were gone. Now, singed into her back were fresh burn marks that resembled ice crystals. Agust drew closer and kneeled at Ceyeh’s side, her wings had melted into her skin as they protected her. From the lack of blood and movement, Agust knew that Ceyeh had died before she hit the ground. His eyes stung as they blurred with more tears and he carefully rolled Ceyeh onto her back.

He had seen countless dead bodies, he knew the horrors of war, and yet the sight of his lover, the one he killed with his own two hands… Agust dry heaved. Fat tears poured down his face and he cradled Ceyeh’s lifeless body to his chest. Her blood stained his hands, his chest, his pants. He bent forwards and pressed his lips to Ceyeh’s forehead before he closed her eyes and scooped her into his arms. Agust rose slowly to his feet and carried Ceyeh through the flames that grew around them. 

⚠⚠⚠

Humans, dragons, lightning birds, and firebirds alike all froze when they saw the sight of the mighty Agust carrying a body in his arms. The birdfolk knew who it was and they all dropped to their knees in tears. The dragons roared in mass agony at the loss of what they called a soulmate. The one soul in the whole world that reflects yours, a balance of light and dark. One could not be without the other. Agust carried Ceyeh all the way to their shared nest and laid her in the center. He crossed her arms over her chest and placed one final kiss to her cold lips. 

Pire, the leader of the firebirds, appeared outside of Agust’s nest. The elder was a tall and narrow slip of a man. Withered with age yet strong from decades of battles and knowledge. He climbed into the nest and sat beside Agust silently as he studied the lifeless form of Ceyeh. Her throat had been ripped out and he could smell the stench of burned feathers and skin. He sighed heavily as his eyes flushed with tears.

“You are not welcome in this land. I banish you and your kind from henceforth.”

Agust didn’t fight against his punishment, he had let his anger get the better of himself, he had lost control. He had felt so betrayed and the anger in his heart had turned it black. He should have listened to what Ceyeh had tried to say.

“I cannot bring her back, you have killed her.”

Pire placed a hand on Ceyeh’s face and smoothed her braids from her dull eyes with a frown.

“I will grant her final wish…” 

Pire slid his hand to Ceyeh’s forehead and closed his eyes. The tears in his eyes slid down his face and dripped onto his robes. His hand had started to glow a pale yellow-red. The color of a starting flame. The light grew brighter and brighter and slowly spread from Pire’s whole body as it covered Ceyeh’s. Agust fought to keep his eyes open but the light was too bright. He closed his eyes and a moment later a tiny chirp was heard.

Agust opened his eyes and Pire was no longer in his human form nor was he a full grown firebird. In his place a tiny yellow chick with red ombre wings rested on Ceyeh’s chest and flapped its wings. Another firebird appeared, Dagan, younger than Pire before he turned younger. Agust stared at the chick confused.

“What was her final wish?”

Dagan picked Pire up and cradled the tiny chick to its chest. “To meet you again in another life.”

Agust’s eyes felt like they were made of fire from the tears he cried once again. Agust wiped at his face and nodded his head. Dragons were not immortale. They lived and died, unlike the firebirds, a phoenix, the humans later came to call them. Agust looked to Dagan beside him, he wanted to ask a favor but he knew he would receive no help from those he hurt.

The chick chirped away in the Dagan’s hand and the young firebird spoke up once more.

“Pire says our fates are intertwined by a red string. As the world falls into place around us, your story will continue to be told. This is not the end…that is his promise to you.”

Agust rose to his feet, placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head. He cast one last look at Ceyeh’s body and roared, a call to all the dragons to leave the land that would later be known as Escistan.

“Nitakupata tena, mwezi wangu."

Agust watched as Ceyeh stepped towards the water’s edge and peeled the ruined clothing from her body. She stood before him, nude in a body that wasn’t her own and Agust felt the Prince as he stirred in his mind. He was silent as Ceyeh stepped down into the heated water, submerging everything except her shoulders and head.

The pale silver of Ceyeh’s eyes reflected off the water’s surface, and Agust blinked slowly. Was it truly Ceyeh’s reflection or the moon’s? She stared at him in silence. She raised a hand and water droplets fell back into the pool before she tilted her head in a silent question. Agust carefully removed his clothing and joined Ceyeh in the heated water. His body relaxed from the warm temperature as the chill of the rain slowly faded little by little. 

“Ceyeh,” Agust’s voice was shattered glass, rough and sharp but he swallowed and tried again. “My moon…”

Ceyeh watched as Agust got closer to her, the sight of the cut on his face made her wince. The young prince had such a handsome face. She thought that it was lucky that the scar wouldn’t take away from his beauty, but added to it. It would harden his soft features and strike fear into those who looked upon him. She reached out and cupped Agust’s face with wet hands, her thumbs brushed away the blood and dye, and soothed the tender skin. 

Healing waters, that is what the runes turned the pool into, and yet Agust wondered if the Princeling even knew. He was sure that the gardener knew, but he pushed that thought from his mind. Agust focused on the way Ceyeh’s hands touched him, gently, slowly…lovingly. He leaned into the caress, one he had missed the moment he lost it, and purred loudly. 

He guided Ceyeh to the water’s edge and sat on the steps with her in between his legs. His arms wound themselves around her hips and he pulled her closer. His face smushed into her bare chest and Ceyeh flinched. Her body tensed and Agust purred louder as his fingers slid up and down the skin of Ceyeh’s hips.

“I have wronged you and yet you still care for me?”

Agust inhaled deeply as smooth honey coated his mind and ripening tangerine trickled down his throat. His mind slowly grew quiet, crickets played their song and night birds sung along. His body felt heavy as he started to float in the water, held in place by Ceyeh’s caring hands. 

In the palace courtyard, Hoseok and Aga stared at the sky as the rain slowed to a gentle drizzle. The clouds lost their darkened grey hue and glided through the sky in wispy white stokes. The lightest of colors against the darkened night. There high above all, the moon held its place among the stars. A glowing reminder that the young royals were still unaccounted for. 

Hoseok’s eyes lost the spark that swirled in his iris like twisted flames and Aga leaned against one of the support beams of an arch way with his arms crossed over his chest. He knew that the young royals were safe by the way the rain came and went. He worried that they could be hurt but he trusted Ceyeh to keep Keena safe, and he knew that if it came to life or death, Agust would protect the Prince at all costs. 

“We have to tell them,” Hoseok sighed as he kicked at a pebble in front of him. 

Aga agreed with Hoseok, but he knew that the young ones needed time to figure something out. The air was charged with a power that he had not felt in quite some time. The tides were changing and Aga couldn’t tell if that was for the best or not. Hoseok groaned as he rolled his shoulders and looked back at the moon.

“There is only one place we have not looked.”

Hoseok whistled and Ussik, the black eagle, flew down from above shortly after. Aga stared at the bird as it cocked its head to the side and nodded impressed.

“The Min Empire continues to show its strength it seems.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow confused by Aga’s words.

“Black eagles are extremely hard to tame. They have a warrior’s heart and usually don’t do well working with anyone who doesn’t possess a bird spirit.” Aga explained slowly with a blank expression on his face. Hoseok nodded his head to show that he understood and turned his attention to the Ussik.

“Find Yoongi and Keena. Report back to me straight away.” He spared a glance at Aga and quickly added. “Make sure no one sees you.”

Ussik took off and soared through the air silently. Beady onyx eyes scanned the landscape of the palace grounds and listened for the familiar vibrations of the Prince and Princess. The sound of muffled tones caught Ussik’s attention and the bird flew over the seventh garden. The treetops were dense, sprinkled with shimmering drops of rain that glittered in the moonlight. Ussik slipped through the leaves and landed on a branch three yards away from the Prince and Princess. 

The black eagle easily blended into the shadows, its eyes seemed nothing more than two bugs stuck on the bark. Below, the young royals stood face to face, the Prince had the Princess caged between himself and the stone wall, their forms distorted by the waterfall.

Ceyeh had tried to get away from Agust, his grip had become too tight, his face too close to her throat. He had scared her and as she ran, he trapped her beneath the waterwall. The water was deeper here but a single stone bench allowed for both of them to stand on their feet. 

Agust had a hand wrapped around Ceyeh’s throat, the grip wasn’t threatening, lighter than he would hold anyone else’s; this thumb resting on her chin. Ceyeh scowled at him, her eyes misty pools of thickening fog. Their noses touched as Agust leaned in closer. His eyes flickered down to Ceyeh’s lips and she flashed her blunt teeth. A silent warning that made Agust’s lips quirk up into a half smirk as he huffed out an amused snort.

The cut on his eye wasn’t fully healed, pink and raw, but it no longer bled, and the pain had faded to a dull heartbeat. Easily ignored with the woman he loved in front of him. Agust loosened his hold even more, his hand slipped and he held both hands up in the air in surrender. The way Agust’s obsidian eyes softened slightly was enough for Ceyeh’s body to untense. The feathers that lined her ears bristled and Agust licked his lips, his fangs gleamed ever so slightly.

“You hate me that much?” Agust mused as he stared at Ceyeh. “Would ripping my throat out make you happy, my moon?” Agust bared his neck in all its smooth and unblemished glory. “My life is yours to do what you would please.”

Ussik observed silently for a moment longer before it flew off to find Hoseok. Ceyeh stared at the unprotected area. How easily Agust had offered his life, it made sparks sizzle in Ceyeh’s eyes. Lightning struck down one of the trees with the seventh garden. Smoke rose into the sky quickly and Agust lowered his head. They stared at each other in silence. Neither one made a move until Agust’s eyes fell to Ceyeh’s lips once more.

He moved slowly as he reached for her face with both hands. She didn’t flinch, only blinked owlishly. Agust’s forehead rested against hers, his words were his final warning.

“Kill me.”

Ceyeh’s own hands grabbed at Agust’s shoulders and he braced himself for death but it never came. Cool lips pressed into his, smooth, and soft. An April shower filled his heart and washed away any doubt in his mind. Ceyeh had still loved him even when he didn’t deserve an ounce of it. Agust dropped an arm to Ceyeh’s waist and pressed her farther into the stone wall. The kiss grew hotter. A desert with a single oasis hidden within many mirages. All optical illusions that Agust’s mind had made up. 

Agust nipped at Ceyeh’s bottom lip as he requested permission to taste her. As her lips parted, Agust growled deep in his chest, the vibrations made goosebumps appear on Ceyeh’s arms. Agust was drowning. He drowned in the first rain of the spring, the first snow of winter; that first scoop of sweet and gooey honey. Agust’s body burned with the simmering fire that laid dormant for how long? The two horns at the center of his forehead started to grow outward and he groaned as he pressed into Ceyeh’s soft body more. 

The plushness of her thighs called him home, he lifted her wordlessly and she gasped as her ankles locked behind his back; a habit from their past. The heat between her legs was maddening, Agust wanted to take and take and take as much as he wanted to give. He pulled away from Ceyeh’s lips and moved towards her neck, he needed to smell her as the scent of her arousal was washed away by the water around them. 

Ceyeh tried to speak. Her lips parted but no sound came as Agust’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of her throat. She shoved at his chest, as tears blurred her vision, the past was too close in the forefront of her mind. Her throat throbbed, searing pain made her whine and Agust pulled away at the sound of distress. His chest heaved, his eyes liquid gold as he nosed at her chin. Bitter tangerines, long forgotten in the sun burned his nose and Agust growled. Ceyeh was scared of him. Ceyeh pushed him away sharply and shook her head as he released her.

“N-No! N-Noooo!”

The words were choked, whispered out harshly as Ceyeh forced herself to use vocal cords for the first time in all of her three reincarnations. Agust froze, the voice was the Princess’ but it was sharper, a hard shelled candy with a nutty filling. A voice that was both the Princess’ and Ceyeh’s mixed together. A sound that Agust felt himself submit to easily. He backed away from Ceyeh and kept his hands where she could see them. His clawed fingers twitched as Ceyeh wrapped her arms around herself, seemingly holding everything together all alone.

Agust wanted to hold her tightly, assure her that everything would be okay, but as the smoke from the struck tree grew thicker, Agust knew their time together was short.

“Come,” Agust held out his hand and looked towards the water’s edge. “The guards will be here soon and I’d rather not slaughter those that the little royals are so fond of.”

The critical look that Ceyeh gave Agust made his shoulders ease and a smile pulled at his lips. Ceyeh placed her hand in his and he wrapped his fingers around hers tightly.

“I have had quite some time to think about my misdeeds,” Agust spoke as he led Ceyeh to the edge of the water. “I would like a moment of yours if you would grant it so?”

From behind, Ceyeh took in the expanse of Agust’s back. His shoulders were wide and thick, the muscles that twitched under the skin made Ceyeh bite the inside of her bottom lip. Agust had always been strong, but here in Prince Yoongi’s body, his strength wasn’t clearly seen nor was it shown off. The large black dragon tattoo that covered his back was intimidating, and from how the Prince acted, Ceyeh wondered if it was Agust who craved the bold design. Agust lifted himself out of the water just in time to see Hoseok and Aga break through the bushes. 

“That is far enough!” Agust hissed, golden eyes reflecting the flames of the fire on the tree.

 “Give me your shirt, bird of fire.”

Hoseok’s brows were furrowed in concern the moment he saw the Prince’s face. His right eye looked damaged and Hoseok feared that it was worse than it looked. He took note of the way the Prince’s hair was dyed and cut short with some blond peeking through…he would have a few choice words with Prince Yoongi once he regained his control. 

It was clear to see that Agust had shifted, patches of black scales covered his body, his horns were fully formed, and he spoke with that unsettling snake-like lisp. From the silence that came from behind him, it was safe to assume that the Ceyeh was present as well.

Aga dropped to one knee with his hand over his heart and bowed his head, “Mighty Impundulu have you been-”

Agust bristled at the show of respect and narrowed his eyes. 

“Your shirt,” he repeated as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked Aga up and down before he licked his lips in thought.

“What right do you assume you have to gaze at my moon? Off with your shirt as well.”

Aga removed his shirt without a second thought and threw it to Agust while Hoseok frowned. It was still lightly raining and he really did not want to let the cool water touch the rest of the body. He had just put on a dry cape. As Aga rose to his feet, he raised an eyebrow in Hoseok's direction and Hoseok sucked his teeth. Wordlessly, he removed his cape but kept his shirt on before he tossed it to Agust. 

Agust turned his back on the men in the clearing and focused on Ceyeh. He lifted her out of the water and used the cape to dry her off before he carefully dressed her in Aga’s shirt. It was big enough to fall past her thighs and Agust nodded his head in approval. He wrapped the black cape around his waist wordlessly. It was damp from the rain and drying Ceyeh, but better than his wet and bloody clothes. 

Aga watched as Ceyeh hugged Agust around the waist and nuzzled into his chest. Agust stroked a hand over her hair and lifted her face upward by her chin. He spoke softly enough for Aga and Hoseok not to hear his words before he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. 

Hoseok gasped and Aga’s jaw clenched. Aga knew there was history between them and that at some point in time the two had been happy with each other. To see Ceyeh willingly kiss Agust was disturbing, but with how the Prince’s face looked, Aga was sure that the flame they once had reignited over shared trauma.

Ceyeh left Agust’s side and walked right over to Hoseok, she motioned to her eye and Hoseok nodded his head. He knew that the Prince would need medical attention right away. Turning her attention to Aga, Ceyeh walked over the guard and he wordlessly lifted her into his arms bridal style. Agust hissed, fangs flashing and ready to strike, but Ceyeh threw him a look that screamed behave, and he settled. Aga left the seventh garden with the Princess and went right into the palace.

Hoseok stood with Agust and rubbed a hand over his face, “Are you going to behave?” 

“Have I not killed you yet, fire bird?” 

Hoseok rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, “What happened tonight?”

“It seems that the rat you spoke of has a pack.”

Hoseok’s eyes hardened and his jaw ticked, “We will discuss this later inside…for now, I need the Prince immediately.” 

“Something happened while we were away.”

It was a statement, one that Hoseok very much wished he could deny. For the first time in a long while Agust felt…well it did not matter what he felt. Whatever had happened while the foolish Princeling had snuck out had nothing to do with him. 

“The Little Prince cannot handle this pain. Fetch the doctor and meet me at the Princeling’s chambers. I will protect him for now.”

Hoseok was weary of Agust’s mocking words, but he didn’t have much choice. He needed Yoongi to come back to his senses and fast. Hoseok nodded his head and whistled loudly for Ussik. Once the eagle was on his shoulder, he relayed the message for Hyungwon and sent the bird off into the night. 

Before they left the seventh garden, Hoseok placed his hand on the flaming tree and absorbed the flames. His eyes twirled alight with the new flames and he frowned at the sight of the charred tree. He wondered how long it would take for Namjoon to notice.

As they left the seventh garden, Hoseok crushed a starstone in his hand and blew it onto Agust before he led the way to the Prince’s chambers unseen. He politely declined any conversation with others as he made his way into the palace and Agust thought it strange. What had happened while the Princeling was frolicking about in the night? Once inside the Prince’s chambers, Agust headed right to the washroom and Hoseok followed behind him. Agust stripped himself of the cape and stepped into the hot water with a sigh. 

He sat on one of the stone benches and rested his arms on the edge of the bath. His head fell back and he closed his eyes as the scent of lavender and teakwood filled his lungs. His body appeared as the starstone washed away. The horns in the center of his head start to shrink and his scales fade little by little. The points of his claws shortened into rounded blunt nails, the black gone from his fingertips.

Agust was tired. It had been quite a while since he last fought to the death, and he would not admit it to anyone, but his skills were lacking. The world had evolved around him, those who were weak were now able to stand toe to toe with the stronger warriors. Magical weapons gave power to those who didn’t deserve it nor need it. Agust thought back to how the Princess was able to be captured and he growled, his head shooting up as his irises twisted with something wicked.

“I think it’s time for an execution.”

“That is not your call to make, Agust.”

Hoseok sat at the edge of the large tub and dunked a dried washcloth into the water. He had a plan to get the Prince’s body clean and back to the way it should look. First was to wash out the remaining dye used to color his hair black. Once that was taken care of, Hoseok would scrub the Prince’s body nearly raw before he had Hyungwon come to take a look at the cut on his eye. 

“Keep your eyes closed.” Hoseok ordered before he folded the wet washcloth and placed it at Agust’s hairline. He grabbed a small bowl and filled it with water before he poured it over Agust’s hair. Two times he did that before he started to scrub at the scalp and strands to remove the dark coloring. As more and more of the blond started to show, Hoseok saw that the Prince’s hair had been poorly cut.

“Who did this to Yoongi’s hair?”

“Bandits,” Agust hissed, his eyes still closed as he allowed Hoseok to wash his hair. “Chopped it clean off with a dagger while the boy was fading. He wouldn’t relinquish control and fought me.”

Hoseok made a noise in the back of his throat in response. Bandits did all of this? His mind went over a list of who he thought was the rat inside the palace and he shook his head. He would make no judgment until all the facts were laid out. Once all the black color was out of Agust’s hair, Hoseok started to wash his body.

“It’s a pity the Min’s are born with blond hair. I quite liked having my natural color back.”

“You had black hair?”

Agust hummed with a slight nod of his head, “Long black hair. Ceyeh made it her duty to style it anyway she pleased when we were younger.”

Hoseok took a moment to think over his next words before he spoke, watching as the small horns that lined Agust’s eyes retracted back into the skin. Most of the scales were now gone and Hsoeok wondered why Agust was giving up control so easily. 

“You never share information about your past.”

“What is there to share? I lived and I died, five times now. I have found my soulmate in this life and those before me have granted me a chance to atone for my misdoing.” Agust sighed and peaked open his left eye. “Everything else is meaningless.”

Hoseok opened his mouth to counter Agust’s words, but Hyungwon bursted into the bathing room with his medical supplies floating behind him. His face was flushed and he was panting. He clearly ran all the way here and Agust raised an eyebrow at the good doctor.

“I-I-” Hyungwon folded over in half and inhaled deeply before he straightened up and exhaled. “I have come as requested.” 

Now that Hyungwon had gathered himself, his eyes widened at the sight of the Prince’s face.

“Your Highness!!”

“Easy, Hyungwon,” Hoseok warned as the doctor hurried over to the bath. “The floor is wet and His Highness isn’t fully with us…”

Hyungwon froze at those words and he looked at the Prince. He saw it now, the difference in those golden eyes. Even when the Prince got angry and his eyes shifted colors, they never held such ire and turmoil. Agust was in control, and with how the Prince’s eye looked, Hyungwon was thankful.

“Forgive me, Agust. I didn’t realize it was you.” Hyungwon bowed his head deeply and lowered himself to the floor. “May I treat the wound?” 

Agust grunted and waved for Hyunwon to move closer. The doctor took his time as he examined the damaged area. The cut was deep enough to scar, that much was clear, and when Agust closed his eyes, the lid was thankfully missed. However, upon further inspection, Hyungwon gulped.

“I-It seems that some first aid has already been applied and in this case, I am thankful. The cut looks to be an inch in depth, though since the area is partly healed, it is hard to tell. The lid is still intact and with a regrowth serum the eyebrow’s hair can go back to normal.” 

Hyungwon licked his lips and rubbed the back of his neck before he spoke again.“My greatest concern at this moment is the eyeball itself. There are signs of trauma and I fear that His Highness’ sight may be affected.”

“His sight?” Hoseok repeated, his face horror stricken.

“Agust will you allow His Highness to join us? I need to see the full extent of the injury.” 

“I will be near if you so need me,” Agust informed Hoseok before the Prince’s body went limp.

Hoseok and Hyungwon were quick to grab the Prince by his armpits and pulled him out of the water. Laid out on the floor, Hyungwon reached into his bag and pulled out a small bottle of smelling salt. They didn’t have time to wait for the Prince to wake up, and Hoseok understood that. He held Prince Yoongi down by his shoulders and nodded his head for Hyungwon to wake him up. Hyungwon swiped the bottle underneath the Prince’s nose and by the third swipe, Prince Yoongi woke with a choked gasp.

“Easy! Easy, Your Highness!” Hyungwon ordered softly and Hoseok applied light presses to his shoulders to keep him down.

“You are safe, Yoongi.” Hoseok spoke with a tight smile.

Prince Yoongi groaned with a wince. His whole body hurt, it felt like a whole herd of horses had trampled him. His vision faded and blurred like he had just come up face first from the sea. He blinked a few times, and as his vision cleared in his left eye, Prince Yoongi’s pulse started to race when no images cleared in his right eye.

“...Yoongi?” Hoseok’s voice was on edge, his grip on his shoulders tightened and Yoongi started to sweat.

His stomach swooped and tumbled as he tried his hardest to focus but nothing changed. Something was wrong, and Prince Yoongi was hit with a wave of nausea as he recalled the events of the night. They were attacked, ambushed! And—

“The Princess!” Yoongi pushed Hoseok away from him and sat up, nearly crashing his head into Hyungwon’s chin, who was dabbing at his face with a damp cotton ball.

“She is safe. Yoongi, Princess Keena is safe.” Hoseok reassured his friend as he forced him to lay down once again. “Aga and the other guards are with her. She is safe, I promise.”

Yoongi groaned as Hyungwon pressed a cold cream against his right cheek. It stung as much as it soothed the burning skin. Yoongi tried to focus on the doctor but he couldn’t see him clearly. Hyungwon’s image was distorted, an opaque film thrown over him and scribbled over with a gray and black hue. A faded shadow with diffused edges and unclear shapes. Even the coloring was off, muted at best if Prince Yoongi had to describe it. It reminded him of the time he got muze dust in his eyes and everything was fuzzy for two days.

“Your Highness?” Hyungwon pulled him from his thoughts and nodded to Hoseok. “Let’s get you up now, slowly.”

Hoseok and Hyungwon carefully supported the Prince’s back and helped him sit upright before Hyungwon pulled back a little.

“Your Highness…how many fingers am I holding up?”

The Prince starred in Hyungwon’s direction and licked his lips, “Four.”

“Very good, Your Highness. Now please cover your left eye.”

The Prince covered his left eye, Hyungwon’s figure was clear as day and he stared at the two fingers in front of him, “Two.”

“Good. Now your right eye, carefully.”

The Prince switched to the right eye and flinched as the skin of his palm brushed against his cheek. He frowned. Hyungwon’s figure was-

“Your Highness?” 

Prince Yoongi blinked hard, four times as he tried to clear his vision. His pulse rushed in his ears and he struggled to answer the simple question.

“Yoongi?” Hoseok’s voice was strained as he watched tears collect at the corners of his friend’s eyes.

“I-I can’t…I can’t—”

The hand that covered the Prince’s right eye fell into his lap and he shook his head. He refused to meet Hoseok or Hyungwon’s gaze. The two shared a look with each other and Hoseok nodded his head, his face blank as he patted the Prince’s shoulders.

“Okay. We can take care of it, Yoongi.”

“Yes, I will not give up, Your Highness. I will find a way to gain your sight back.” Hyungwon promised, and the Prince nodded his head. 

He started to rise, and Hoseok was quick to help Prince Yoongi to his feet. Hyungwon handed the Prince a towel and the three of them headed into his sleeping chambers. Hoseok left the Prince’s side and grabbed a black cross wrap v-neck shirt, the material was light and breathable with a pair of matching sleep pants that fit loosely around the legs for him to settle into. 

Once the Prince was dressed with a blended black silk robe with butterfly sleeves and golden waves pattern over top to keep warm, he sat with a cup of tea in his hands, now in the sitting room. Hoseok sat across from him on the smaller couch and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yoongi?” 

“Say whatever has been on your tongue, Hoseok.” 

The Prince’s face was paler, his right eye wrapped in clean white bandages and his hair hung around his ears messily. Hyungwon had started to comb the Prince’s hair, the strands pushed back and out of his face before he bowed and left.

Hoseok sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face before he looked at his dear childhood friend.

“Your mother has requested an audience with you and the Princess.”

“Can it not wait until tomorrow?” 

“If you had been within the palace, you would have heard the news by now.”

“Hoseok, please. I do not have the patience for your word games. What has happened in my absence? Why has mother requested an audience at such an hour?” 

Hoseok raised to his feet and stared at his friend, his face pinched as the words left his lips in a rattled croak.

“T-The Emperor…he is ill.”

[yeh-kaali-kaali-ankhein]

His Royal Highness prince kim taehyung 👑❤️‍🔥

[bangtanloverboys]

the artist and his prince

summary - being the second son of the king, taehyung is left free to do whatever he pleased. whether that be travel the world, lounge about like a cat, or be a patron the arts

pairing - prince!taehyung x male artist!reader

genre - fluff; royal au

word count - 2.3k

warnings - historical inaccuracies, autor knows nothing about art

author’s note - slightly inspired by this tumblr post 

Early on in his life, Taehyung knew he would never measure up to his brother, Namjoon. He was the perfect prince and heir to the throne; mastered sword fighting by 10, an accomplished diplomat by 15, and was a kind and just man. Sure, he garnered all of their father’s attention. But Taehyung was never jealous of him. 

No, in fact quite the opposite. 

He was thankful for him. For as the second son, he had all the freedom to do whatever he so wished. He spent his teen years traveling abroad; going from Greece, to Rome, to Spain, to Egypt, to India. By the time he returned home, he was in his two and twentieth year and was skilled in nearly six languages. But there was something Taehyung loved more than traveling or gold, or anything else in the world. 

Art.

Everywhere he went, he collected the most beautiful pieces of artwork he could find, commissioning dozens of artists for their work. It was something he remembered his mother instilling him, always taking him to art houses and shows. It was one of the few ways he felt closest to her after she succumbed to illness when he was nine..

Once he returned home, he promised to continue to fill the palace with the most beautiful art. Enter: you.

You were a local artist he came across at the first art show he went to upon his return home. You weren’t very popular, per se. A few people would stop and stare at your work, admiring it for a few moments before moving on. However, when Taehyung came across your work, he felt as if the air had been stolen from his lungs. 

It was a piece telling of the myth of Narcissus and Echo, with the young man draped across the rocks of the pond, lowering his face as close as he could to the water without causing it to ripple. It had been clear that he had been there long, for instead of strong, slender arms; Narcissus was thin and sickly. Already, daffodils had begun to grow over him. The nymph was in the foreground of the painting, tears streaming down her face as she screamed to her unrequited love, who now lay dying before her, unable to tear his attention away to save him. 

Taehyung didn’t know how long he stood in front of the painting, but he could not tear his eyes away. For to spend a second not appreciating its beauty, would’ve been a moment wasted. 

“Do you like it?” A voice pulled him from his thoughts. Turning his head, he saw you, a young man around his age, a small smile playing on your lips as you waited for him to answer your question. 

“Like it? I- I have no words for it! It's almost as if it speaks to my very soul! From the composition, to the subject, to the color. . . It’s a stunning painting. Do you know the man who painted it?”

You regarded him for a moment, stunned at his compliments before responding. “From what I’ve heard of him, he’s an old bat that refuses to leave his studio until his next masterpiece is done.” 

“Do you know where I may find him? I would love to speak with him.”

“Usually, he hates attending exhibitions such as these; stuffy society members critiquing his work as if they know the very thoughts in his head as he painted,” you continued, speaking bitterly. Taehyung frowned at the information, upset at the prospect of being unable to meet the artist before you laughed silently to yourself, holding out your hand, giving your name. “And he unfortunately also just so happens to be me.”

Taehyung blinked for a moment, his mind not processing the information. Before he knew it, he reached for your outstretched hand. “It is- it is an honor to meet you! My word, you almost had me fooled.”

Your grin grew wider at that. “Please, the honor is mine. It’s not every day a prince compliments my work. For which, I thank you for.” You bowed your head slightly. “Not everyone can say the same, failing to understand the basis of the mythos.”

“I couldn’t agree more; I saw so many pass your painting by, without recognizing the true tragedy of it all. Having Narcissus already dying, being consumed by the earth and Echo trying to pull him away to save him. . . What drove you to that decision?”

You turned your attention back up towards the art, quietly staring up at Echo. “In so many words, I know what it’s like to watch the one you love fade away from you, unable to stop them from their own undoing. Not being able to speak the words you truly want to say. . .” your eyes glassed over, as if recalling that very memory. “So what can I say, the story of Narcissus felt like a reflection of my own so. . . how could I not?”

Taehyung said nothing, simply nodding in some understanding, despite having no experience of such pain. He looked up at the painting again, following your eyes to truly see what you could. To see it through your eyes. For a moment, he almost saw you in Echo’s features. But in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

More people stopped beside either of you for a moment, before quickly moving on, uttering some words about it not being beautiful or questioning the subjects’ expressions. With each statement, Taehyung could sense you growing tense beside him, the stitching in your gloves stretching as you squeeze your fist tight. 

“I would like to hang this in my estate.” The words slipped by Taehyung’s lips before he could think.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I would pay your handsomely, of course. If no one would appreciate your work here, I can assure you, I will dedicate an hour of my day, every day looking at this painting,” he offered, hoping it would be enough.

You were silent as you narrowed your eyes at him, as if you were trying to detect any hint of a lie in his words. “Alright, but I have one condition.”

Ecstatic, Taehyung broke into a wide grin. “Name it.”

“I get to paint you.”

Intrigued by your condition, he agreed.  

True to his word, Taehyung bought the painting, hanging it in his private rooms so it would be the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night. And within days, you had come over, paints and easel in hand, ready to paint the younger prince.

It became apparent to Taehyung that you were unlike any other artist who had made a portrait of him before. Instead of having him in the most elaborate dress clothes, decorated with ornate jewels and dressings; you requested him to be dressed simply. For him to wear nothing that would even remotely suggest he was royalty. Taehyung complied, curious to see what exactly you had planned. 

“Do you have a conservatory?” You asked upon your arrival in the early morning. “Or a garden perhaps?”

“Yes, it’s just this way.” Taehyung gestured for some servants to carry your equipment for you before leading you towards the conservatory. It was a bit smaller than the one that was at the palace, but it was still well kept. Dozens of different types of flowers and other types of local flora were tended to throughout the year by his staff. Greenery grew from every nook and cranny, and whilst Taehyung wasn’t much for flowers, he enjoyed having color in his home. 

Once you set foot into the greenhouse, you immediately went to work; setting up an area for you to paint but a scene. You pulled around a garden table, setting it beside a rose bush. You stared at it for a moment, only to move it around again. Taehyung watched from the side lines, fascinated with your process. After a near ten minutes of pushing the table this way or pulling another plant that way, you declared yourself ready.

“I’d like you to sit there,” you gestured to the table, “you have the option of reading a book whilst I work or you may just sit there. Whichever you prefer,” you told him as you began to pull out your pencils. 

“Nathaniel?” 

“Yes, Your Highness?” His butler responded. 

“Bring me the novel that’s in the drawing room,” Taehyung said as he sat down.

“Of course, right away, sir.” Within minutes of leaving, he had procured the book Taehyung had been reading earlier that very day. 

He opened it, and began to read. A comfortable silence fell over the conservatory, only the sounds of your tasks filling it in. The sound of your pencils against the canvas, the occasional turning of a page, the gentle ‘hmm’ as your eyes flickered from the canvas to the prince. 

Taehyung could feel your eyes everywhere. He would occasionally spare glances at you through the corner of his vision, watching you as your eyes traced his entire being. From the curve of his neck, to the slope of his nose. The length of his arms to the spaces between his fingers. He could feel you everywhere. He had posed for hundreds of portraits his entire life. Never before had it felt so intimate.

After the first hour or so, you had the first sketch completed. You moved onto the paints, quickly mixing them on your pallet, before bringing them to the canvas. It was usually around this time that Taehyung grew anxious, no longer able to sit still any longer, wanting to watch the art process from the artist’s perspective. He barely opened his mouth to ask to peek at the product before you shushed him.

“It will be finished soon, Your Highness. You may see it then. Have patience.”

He could not believe it. No one had ever dared to speak to him in such a way, he was stunned into silence. By the time he shook himself out of it, he could see you smiling to yourself about your brazen words. It was then and there that something bloomed within his chest, he could not think to name the emotion, but he knew he could not dare to let you go.

A few more hours had passed and Nathaniel had brought Taehyung another book to read. Somewhere between Taehyung taking glances at you and getting lost in his novel, you shed your jacket, with the added paint stains growing along your sleeves, you looked more and more disheveled as you worked. But there was this gleam in your eye, glowing brighter and brighter. He’d seen that look before in many painters' eyes, the look of pure and utter passion. So much love and care for their work that it was overflowing from their very being. 

The look of a true artist. 

 The sun was now hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows and illuminating the conservatory in the golden glow when you finally announced yourself done. Taehyung rose from his seat, groaning as his stiff limbs ached after remaining still for so long. But he ignored the burning of his muscles, knowing that what you had created would’ve made it worth it. You turned the easel to face him and Taehyung felt like his heart soared.

You had painted the prince leaning forward on his elbow, the pages of his book kept open by his free hand. The pose was so informal, so personal, that he felt as if he’d walked in on a private moment with his own image! The flowers you’d placed around him spread out around his back, as if they were blooming out from his very body as he read. It looked so real, so life-like that he felt as if you had somehow, magically paused the moment he had just lived. 

He breathed out your name, turning to face you, where you were waiting with baited breath. Paint had found its way across your cheek and forehead, but you made no fuss of it, watching Taehyung intently as he inspected your work. “This. . . I have no words. It’s as if you captured my very soul!” He turned to look back at the painting, unable to process anymore words for your remarkable work. “You truly have a gift. . .” As you glanced away bashfully, he felt that feeling in his chest again. Like his heart was being squeezed, but it didn’t hurt at all.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” You bowed formally, but a warm smile on full display.

“I want to sponsor you.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Taehyung knew to be a sole artist’s patron was something to grow upon over years of friendship and reliability. Not something to be carelessly asked, for once it’s agreed upon, it’s hard to back out from. Any and all art work you would create would solely belong to Taheyung in his name. If you or he were to end the partnership, you would hold no claim to anything.

“I want you to make things for me, I want to ensure you have any and all supplies you may need. Anything you want, it shall be yours. Say yes and I swear to you, I will do nothing but honor your name and your work,” he pleaded. He needed your art in his life, this feeling in his chest he did not want to be rid of. All he could ever want was you. 

You gnawed on your lower lip, eyes focusing to the ground as you thought over his offer. Taehyung felt as if he could go mad as he waited for your answer.

“On one condition,” you parroted your words from your first meeting.

“Anything. Name it, and it shall be yours.”

Your hand came up to rest on his forearm. The feel of your touch burned right through his clothes, nearly having Taehyung ready to rip his sleeve off just to feel the touch of your hand against his skin. When your eyes met his, he felt as if he would melt right on the spot. “That I will not be one of your artists. I will be known as your only artist. So long as I may refer to you as my prince.”

“As you wish.”

[junqkook]

⚠️ FIC DROP @ 10PM CST

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 17

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 8k

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Note: it’s actually difficult to believe it’s been eight months since I’ve updated, went through two jobs, a friend group and a boyfriend who gaslit the absolute fuck out of me and made me experience female hysteria 😍 I wrote this chapter the night he broke up with me so it just has that nice little extra touch of ✨ intensity ✨ enjoy lovies and I will be back hopefully sooner then last time with another update

It felt wrong, packing a small case of clothes while so many things at the castle had yet to play out, and Wheein’s life was hanging in the balance of it.

You had no intentions to trudge your way to the barracks but here you were; early morning where all of the guards were training and the person you were looking for was watching them, hands on his hips as he called out to one of them to tighten their guard.

You hadn’t planned on talking to him today, but leaving without so much as saying a word felt wrong, and perhaps after everything that had happened you were searching for sober reassurance.

“Jungkook.”

Everybody froze at the sound of your voice, you ignored all the eyes on you, after having lived in Penumbra for almost a year, you had somewhere along the way gotten used to all of the eyes that constantly followed you.

The guards exchanged awkward glances with one another, Jungkook looked surprised by your appearance, eyes glancing over you as if you were a hallucination, but after a moment it was evident you weren’t going to disappear upon blinking.

He glanced between you and the guards before he waved them off, “Keep going.”

You couldn’t stand the hopeful look in his eyes, almost a bit bashful as you walked in line with him further away from the barracks, “How can you expect me to leave the castle when Wheein is in a dungeon? And furthermore sending your aunt to try and reconcile with me?”

Jungkook frowned, “Well I doubted you wanted to see me after my drunk display- which truth be told I hardly remember anything I said, and It’s probably for the best that I don’t, Y/n…” He sighed as he stopped, “It was only a suggestion, it crossed my mind about the estate because truthfully I think you would like it there, and it would be safe,” His hands tenderly grabbed your shoulders as your lips curled in anger but you said nothing, “And I think it would be good for you to put all of this out of your head for a few days. I’ll continue to handle things here and if things change with Wheein trust that I’ll be able to take care of it.”

Your expression didn’t change as Jungkook frowned, “I would also like to remind you that she’s been one of my closest friends since I was a child. You’re not the only one who cares for her.”

You begrudgingly looked away from him but your expression softened, a stab of guilt surging through your stomach at the realization that he was very much right, “I know, I’m sorry I just-”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook replied, “You have a mean bite but I can appreciate your loyalty. I can’t undo the past but I want to make things right. I…” Jungkook paused, looking hesitant his eyes darting away from you and then back to you once more.

You offered no words forcing him to sigh, as if it was difficult for him to admit, “I want to be with you Y/n, not as two people amicable due to marriage or friends on uneasy terms…” He bit down on his cheek, unable to hold your steely gaze as his hand hesitantly reached out, tenderly stroking along your jawline, “I want more than that with you, I want all of the fire and all of the rage, I want the pain, the hardships. I want you, all of you, every flaw that makes you, you.”

You hadn’t even realized your eyes had blurred until his thumbs were tenderly pushing your tears away, “Is this a declaration?”

“It’s a promise.” Jungkook’s eyes held such a softness in them filled with something you still felt uncertain to assume, “You told me that you wanted to bear the deepest parts of yourself to me, all of your insecurities, the parts you don’t like about yourself, the parts you may even hate, so I am standing here to tell you to show me, show me all of it, and I will still take you as you are.”

He was saying many overwhelming words to you, but you knew he was dancing around the most important word, you could see it in his eyes, how it lingered on the tip of his tongue.

But something was stopping him from truly confessing it.

Perhaps even after all of these months, it was still too soon.

Evidently so given your circumstances.

“I don’t want you away from me,” Jungkook admitted, a frown slowly forming on his lips, “But if that’s what it takes, I would wait a lifetime if it meant your forgiveness, if it meant a second chance to be with you.”

“Is that why you’re willing to send me away?” You sniffled, “Otherwise you’ll continue to drink and wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t my finest moment,” Jungkook gave a weak smile, “But you can’t deny it got my point across didn’t it?”

Just his smile made something in you crumble, a vast desire to embrace him here and to forgive him, surely you could put this all behind you…?

But a bigger part of you didn’t want to rush this, you didn’t want to be complacent anymore, that was how you got into this situation, how you immediately jumped to Claudin’s offer rather than confide in the person you were married to.

It was such a raw feeling, you could feel it licking at your very soul, trying to tame your desire to throw all caution to the wind once more.

And for a brief moment you could feel Jungkook have the same reaction as you, as if it took every fiber in his being to not beg you to stay, you don’t know if you could stand your ground against him again if he came on as strong as he had last night.

“Just for a few days.” You whispered out as he frowned, giving you an understanding nod.

“You’ll love it there.” His hands finally let go of you, somewhat reluctantly.

And then it was silent for a long moment, tension still lingering in the air and both of you clearly hesitant.

“Then…I’ll see you in a few days.” You mumbled and Jungkook nodded once more. It felt like the ground was trying to engulf your feet as you turned around, feeling oddly empty at your goodbye, waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

What was it you had hoped for? A hug…?

Maybe a kiss…?

But then again, it felt as though you were no longer deserving of those things, Jungkook may have done things to hurt you but you had also done things to hurt him, how could you both love one another if you couldn’t trust one another first?

You wished Jungkook had reached out for you, to at least give you some form of affection before leaving, but he also knew this was true, and let you leave with no grief.

It left you feeling empty inside, but this was for the best.

You journeyed over horseback for the day, trying to leave your fretting heart behind as you nervously glanced back at the far away sight of the castle, what if something developed with Wheein?

You felt as though you were betraying her just by leaving, more than anything you were desperate to get her back, perhaps that was why Jungkook was sending you away, as if he sensed your desperation would only heighten the longer this went on.

Dare you say, he feared the worst might happen if you stayed.

Your grip tightened on your reigns, once more trying to put it out of your mind, taking a deep breath you took in the heady scent of the pine tree’s the surrounded you, the Estate was much closer to the mountains then you had anticipated, by midday you had journeyed far enough that snow had already reached the ground.

“Are you nervous?” Yoongi had slowed his horse down to ride next to you, his eyes however still scoured ahead for possible danger.

“What do you mean?” You frowned as you glanced at his back, hearing a branch snap as your eyes darted towards the left of him.

Your faithful companion Fenrir having accidentally broke the branch he had been carrying in his mouth the past hour he had grown fond of, a whine leaving him in disappointment as he picked up the bigger side.

“Journeying away from the castle during these trying times…” Yoongi glanced back at you, a frown of his own, “It can’t be easy leaving with everything that’s happened.”

You didn’t reply for a long moment, Yoongi slowed down to ride beside you as he curiously took in your expression.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally relented, “It is difficult, but…After a long night, I figured this was probably best. It seems like my involvement in things only tends to make them worse. And truthfully there's no telling what lengths I’d go to at this point to get Wheein back.”

“Oh?” Yoongi looked curiosity once more, “I didn’t realize you had such a taste for danger.”

His joke made a smile finally tug on your lips, “Neither did I before coming to Penumbra. It seems this kingdom has a way of bringing out the primitive nature in me. But then again, it seems people have always looked down on me when I think of it.”

“On you?” Yoongi scoffed in amusement, “Dryad Matron of Eunoia? It’s difficult to believe, you’re like a pillar of light to the commonwealth of Penumbra, it used to drive the Prince nuts during your engagement.”

“It did…?” You peered somewhat hesitantly at him.

This made Yoongi grin, “Oh yes, when news of your engagement first broke out it had the people ecstatic, it had him gagging every second he heard good things of you.”

“This is hardly making me feel better…” You winced, though a small part of you was amused to hear this, though you wish you could say the same.

It always seemed to you that people in Penumbra didn’t fully grasp just how much people feared them on the outside world, instead poking fun at the titles they had earned as if it was a little joke.

The whole two years of your engagement are two years you’d rather die then live through again, the anxiety that kept you up at night, the endless amounts of tears you cried, the emptiness it left inside you how no one even tried to comfort you.

Looking back you understood, nobody wanted to feed you lies to comfort you, but at the time, you didn’t understand, it felt cruel.

“Not everyone feels that way about me, evidently from what I saw in the Underside.” You replied, somewhat reminiscing on the horrendous memory of the mock version of you.

“You shouldn’t pay that any mind,” Yoongi scoffed, “The humor is juvenile there, everything it stands for is juvenile, even it’s name; the Underside was a joke, a mockery meant for every royal that has to say it’s name with seriousness, point being- they don’t respect anyone who won’t give them money.”

You only shook your head, “It’s not just that though, there has always been a small part of people and court alike who haven’t liked me, even long before I was engaged to Jungkook. I was known for having a temper,” It made you smile wryly, “-The Bitch of Eunoia, that’s what they ran around calling me behind my back. It was horrendous in Kimhae.”

“Was it now?” Yoongi looked amused by this, “That in some ways does, and doesn’t surprise me.”

“The court ladies in Eunoia often liked to call me that as well. But it was very pronounced by Kimhae court men. When I was younger, I used to wear traditional Eunoian attire when i’d visit. Apparently shoulders and knee’s used to drive them crazy. I had one of the aristocrats boldly ask me if I was an exotic woman of the night, willing to pay for me.”

Yoongi’s jaw had dropped making you laugh as he gestured you on, “What did you say?”

“Something along the lines of calling him a perverted old man whom ought to have his loins cut off for making such a comment to a women- let alone a Princess.” The memory made you smile as you shook your head, “The Bitch of Eunoia…why is it men are allowed to be angry Yoongi? Why is it women are shamed so?”

Yoongi let out a hum, “This is indeed a good question, but perhap it’s because they know a woman's scorn could even bring heaven out of the sky. I’m not all too surprised about Kimhae- but you said Eunoians called you this as well?”

Your smile became saddened, “By many court ladies yes,” You scratched your cheek in thought, “I was always lonely as a child…the war took a toll on me, I was temperamental and childish. But the court ladies as children, also liked to mock me and egg me on. As we grew older they grew closer and I still stayed a distance away. They’d find any reason to pick me apart or give me more work to do. They were practically leaping for joy when the news broke that I was engaged.”

“Why do you think that was though?” Yoongi asked, “That they didn’t like you?”

You shrugged, you had never really thought about it much, rather you preferred to keep the past where it was rather then dwell on it, “I suppose it had a lot to do with the fact that while we were all training to be healers I excelled more at it, it came naturally to me and they ended up putting me in the tents before the others. They all assumed it was from favoritism…Maybe it was,” You pondered on this briefly, “I just remember thinking it wasn’t fair.”

“Fair?”

You didn’t elaborate on the word for a long moment, feeling something akin to guilt bubble in your stomach.

You glanced off into the distance where the mountains towered high, it made you feel so tiny in comparison to its greatness, and briefly you felt awe.

You always admired nature, how vast it was compared to you and all your humanly troubles, you turned to it and it’s kin when you needed comfort and in these moments you could turn to it when you were also troubled with words.

It was difficult to adequately explain to people the rage you had felt since you were a child, anger had always been in your bones, from the moment you were born. Your mother used to tell you, that when she gave birth, you had come out of her womb with a roaring cry.

You craved to be vulnerable, to be soft and tender, to be all the things you were not, and you were many things, just not those.

Many people people heard you, they just never listened, didn’t understand.

“I had a lot of resentment as a child, to everything, the war, my parents, our country. I didn’t want to be a healer, I didn’t want to have to watch people in my care die, I didn’t want to attend the burnings or hear the whales of agony and pain, the cries of mourning, the people who blamed me for not being able to save their loved ones.”

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel haunted by those memories, watching the lifeforce leave someone's body as you tried to stop the bleeding, the maimed limbs and mangled bodies that were beyond your skill or help.

“I didn’t want to be made to go past our lesson times to keep studying, or made to go back in to practice when all the other girls were allowed to play. Or put in a tent over night while they all slept. It wasn’t fair.”You mumbled, perhaps still a lingering tone of resentment.

The past was the past, it couldn’t be changed, you had come to terms with this, but if you stopped and really thought about it, old feelings old eventually begin to resurface, it was why you tried so desperately to just forget about it.

At one time you blamed Penumbra, you hated it’s people for what they did, what they caused.

But then you married Jungkook and you journeyed here yourself, and saw with your own eyes, that these people, were simply people, who were also victims of their own royalty.

You felt the soft grip of a hand on your shoulder, “I am sorry, for what it’s worth,” Yoongi held a face of sympathy, “We all felt the same, or…I suppose a mutual feeling on the opposite side of things. Children being forced to enlist into a war we didn’t want to wage with little choice…”

You gently grabbed his hand giving it a small squeeze, a weak smile on your face, “It wasn’t fair for any of us. We’re all a bi-product of our parents' sins. It’s up to us now to break that cycle.”

You had arrived to the estate by nightfall and it was shrouded in tall pine and fir trees, the aroma had you closing your eyes for a moment to savor it, just as Jungkook said, it truly was beautiful.

Snow covered the ground in a few inches, and a chill was left in your bones, but you settled in rather nicely, Yoongi had managed to get a fire going rather quickly and it was quiet in the solitude of the estate.

For once, it was nice to be able to breathe without being watched.

The first two days had went by surprisingly quick, but you had found a natural rhythm in nature, you went on long peaceful walks, kept yourself wrapped in a blanket while sitting on the terrace taking in the crisp cool air.

You had even spent the evening watching the snowfall outside, enchanted at how it came in big fluttering puffy balls, you had heard of snow before, but you had never actually seen it fall from the sky, like a thousand little gifts from the heavens.

It was dull and gray out today, the same as it had been for the last week now, at the estate was unsurprisingly no different.

Today however you had Yoongi set up some haybales in the pit area where guards would typically be trained, it was run down now, old boxes used as storage had been broken down and were hazardously strewn everywhere, long nine inch rusty nails sticking out of wooden pieces at razor sharp jagged angles.

But with Yoongi’s help you both had piled it up safely away and got a decent bit of space ready for training.

“Too stiff-”

“Ah!”

It was a second too late, you had already released the string, sending the arrow flying, it had veered off target as the string slapped your forearm with a sharp snap causing you to drop it.

Fenrir suddenly popped up from the ground where he had been laid out the last half hour, head cocked in concern at the noise that escaped you.

“How many times do I have to tell you,” Yoongi groaned, “You can’t hold it with a stiff arm! Look at this!” He got up from his spot as he held up your arm by the wrist, “It looks like somebody gave you a lashing! Jungkook will have my head if it isn’t heal by tomorrow.”

Your lips twisted into a sulky pout, “I am trying!”

“Not hard enough that’s the fifth time within the hour,” Yoongi whistled out as he let you go, Fenrir walking up to you as he sniffed your hand, giving it a lick before nudging it.

You rubbed your forearm, that was undeniably sore and throbbing with pain before placing your hand on Fenrir’s head to give it a nice long rub.

He had grown remarkably big in the last month, almost as big as you now, just a five or six inches shorter, it made you give a sad frown, at how big he was and soon he’d become a monstrous size…

You’d simply have to build a bigger stable you supposed.

“Aim comes naturally but holding a weapon does not,” You sighed as you placed both your hands on Fenrir’s head, now giving him generous rubs and pats that had him giving a toothy puppy grin that made you smile, “I’ve practiced here and there with a bow but with everything going on, I just haven’t made it a priority.”

Yoongi sighed, “Natural ability will only get you so far, discipline if a far greater advantage Princess, thankfully we can start working on this daily, I think it’d be good for you to have a hobby.”

“I have hobbies.” You frowned as crossed your arms.

“Such as…?” Yoongi gestured.

“Well…” You could think of several as a matter of fact, but you had given them all up once you had moved to Penumbra, the thought made you frown in realization, you had been so caught up in all the highs and lows of your new life that it was true.

You had hobbies, you just never participated in any of them.

“I suppose it would do me some good to work on it,” You sighed as you relented, “I still feel a tad guilty though, shouldn’t I be honing my skill in swordsmanship? Jungkook once told me that it’s expected the Crowned Prince and Princess are supposed to be the best at it.”

“Well…” Yoongi stretched the word, “This is true but, I don’t think somebody is going to fault you for not being the best at it. I’d like to think it’s an expectation from those born in Penumbra, not those who marry in. Not only this but if you are inclined to another form of weaponry, then it’s as simple as that.

“As long as you have some form of sword training then it’ll do,” Yoongi shrugged, “What matters is personal protection, some training is better then none, but having a form of training you’re good at is even better.”

“You Penumbrian’s certainly like taking precautions.” You sighed wistfully as you picked up your bow once more.

“The more the better,” Yoongi said, “Guards are great, but what happens when you’re caught without any? Learning to defend yourself is vital.”

You glanced down at your bow, “I understand but…”

“But?” Yoongi asked.

“Well, I suppose a part of me just feels odd,” You replied, “I grew up being taught to save lives, not take them,” You rubbed your neck in uncertainty, “When I took the Dryad’s oath, it was a promise to myself and my ancestors that I would abstain from our carnal nature. That I would never take a life nor would I consume its flesh. Animal or human. Even though the chances of me having to defend myself in such a way are so low, it’s odd to train for it, after taking that oath and living by it my whole life.”

Yoongi let out a small smile, “Then don’t view it as such.”

“What do you mean?” You tilted your head.

“Sword play is considered an art form in Penumbra, you can view a bow in the same light. It’s quite a beautiful thing really, it’s not just aiming and shooting, it’s how you hold it, the type of arrow you use, the weight of your feet. A lot goes into it.”

You thought on this for a while before nodding, “I suppose you are right.”

“Min Yoongi! I’m looking for a Min Yoongi?”

A voice called out that had you both glancing around the courtyard before seeing the courier at the gates glancing around before meeting his gaze.

“Yes?” Yoongi called out, walking up to meet him.

“I have a letter for you sire! It was urgent from the court” The courier dug through his bag before handing it to him, giving a short bow to you and then departing.

You glanced at it anxiously as you exchanged a look with Yoongi, was this about Wheein?

Yoongi opened the letter, reading it before he sighed,

“What, what is it?” You asked, anxiety in your voice.

“It’s not about Wheein,” You let out a breath in relief as Yoongi continued, “But it is a request for help.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Yoongi sighed, “There’s a watchtower just east of here, about an hour away give or take on horseback, apparently they’ve been dealing with a gang of bandits up there. Supposedly they’re going to siege the tower.”

“They can do that?” You asked in surprise.

Yoongi shrugged, “I suppose so, I don’t know what they think I can do about it.”

“Well you said you were an assassin before you became a knight? So surely that counts for something.” You said, setting down your bow on a lonely bale of hay.

Yoongi sighed as he folded the letter back up, “Even so, I won’t just leave you here by yourself.”

You frowned, “It’s only us here, and it’s secluded so I won’t be in any real danger, and you said it was only an hour away. I doubt you’d take long in taking them down.”

“Are you just trying to get rid of me?” Yoongi asked in mild amusement.

“I would never!” You said, “But I’d hate to see something unfortunate happen that could be prevented, you’re far closer then someone is to the castle. It would make the most sense for you to go.”

Yoongi sighed, “Even if I’m over cautious, it doesn’t sit right leaving you here all by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t be alone!” You replied, grinning as you gave Fenrir a solid pat, “Fenrir will defend me! Jungkook and I have been working on commands. Sit!”

Fenrir immediately complied.

“Very fierce.” Yoongi said dryly.

You held up a finger, grabbing a piece of wooden box that was free of any nails off the ground, “Fenrir,” He perked up at his name, “Attack!” You threw it causing his gaze to follow it with a loud snarling howl, his jaws crunching the board in half immediately grabbing the smaller end.

Running back to you before dropping down on his front paws, tail wagging as he tried to get you to chase him.

Yoongi looked a bit more startled at the thick board of wood that had been crushed as he nodded, “Okay, a little more fierce than before…” Yoongi thought about it for a long moment, “I suppose if I left now I would make it back by supper….Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

You gave him a small smile, “It’s only a few hours, I think I’ll be able to manage.”

Yoongi still seemed hesitant but he nodded, “I’ll go gather a few things then and be off. The sooner I leave the sooner I’ll be back.”

“It’s one night,” You smiled, “And then we’ll be back at the castle tomorrow.”

You had waved Yoongi off before you continued on with your day.

Spending another few hours training with your bow you had eventually given up once the string of your bow hit a particularly sensitive spot on your forearm.

The rest of your day had been spent taking walks along the trail’s with Fenrir before eventually settling inside, roaming the halls and exploring empty rooms.

And eventually the afternoon came.

But slowly the sun began to set and a vague feeling of dread followed along with it.

Yoongi…would’ve been back by now, right?

Or perhaps it took him longer to clear out the bandits.

You nodded at this as you stayed curled up in your large chair, Fenrir curled up beneath your feet as he let out a sigh, as if sensing your discomfort and unsatisfied with it.

Continuing to read, time went on and soon the sun had set.

You had managed to get a fire going on your own and had lit the candles in the hall, making the estate feel less consuming then it had before but it didn’t quell your anxiousness as the hour went on later.

Yoongi would certainly be back by now…

You were certain you’d manage the commute back to the castle if you had too but…You wouldn’t feel right just leaving without him, but you also had no way of sending a message to the castle for help without going back yourself.

You felt at a loss for what to do, as you roamed the main hall, pausing at the sound of the gate opening. Opening the doorway you hurried out to the courtyard.

“Yoongi, I’ve been waiting all day, you worried me sick!” You stopped short at the sight ahead of you.

“Not who you were expecting?”

Di Jin’s smug smile was the last thing you saw before the sudden blow to your head caused your vision to go dark.

“You look lost.” Jimin commented as he plopped in a seat right next to his dearest friend, both sat out for breakfast on the terrace.

“Was it a good idea sending her to the Estate?” Jungkook stared down in hard contemplation, his food untouched, “If something happens I won’t be able too…!”

He inhaled sharply as he forced himself to lean back in his chair, but despite the motion his body refused to relax.

You had left two days ago and he felt a void ever since.

Jungkook didn’t realize how much your presence had filled every inch of the castle until you had left, and now, he felt utterly useless, it was one thing for you to be mad at him, it was another for you to be gone.

Jimin looked amused but felt bad for him nonetheless, “Nothing is going to happen to her, the estate is nice and tucked away, the entire court has forgotten about it anyways, it hasn’t been used in years. You did a good thing.”

“Did I?” Jungkook finally slumped.

He had been constantly replaying his last memory of you, the conversation you both had before you left, the memory of you looking up at him for a long moment as if silently yearning for some form of affection.

It left Jungkook’s hands twitching and an unfamiliar ache in his chest, he couldn’t even describe how it felt. And he was honest when he spoke with you the night before, true he didn’t remember much, but what he did remember was straight from his heart, he thought he knew many things.

But after meeting you he found out quickly that he knew nothing at all.

Tomorrow, surely you’d be back tomorrow. You hadn’t given him an exact timeframe, but surely when you said a few days, you had meant no more then three?

“What if I-”

“No.” Jimin cut him off, “The whole point of her going was to get out of the castle and by default away from you. Not only that but what if something happened to Wheein while you were gone?”

Jungkook sunk back in his chair, that was right…He had promised you he would take care of anything that might possibly happen.

He wouldn’t let you down.

“Have you found any evidence yet?” Jungkook lowered his voice, his gaze lingering on the far side of the table where Claudin had been dining with a group of court ladies.

Jimin frowned, “Yes but the problem is getting it open,” He huffed, “I was able to slip into his room last night, it was empty but he has a lock box beneath a hollowed broken floorboard piece, seems he was in a hurry when he left, otherwise it wouldn’t have been left afar.

“Regardless I haven’t been able to crack the lock. Whatever is in there, it has a master’s lock on it. I’ll need at least another dozen picks before I even come close to cracking it.”

Jungkook sighed as he shook his head in disdain, “Of course when we need Yoongi he’s gone.”

Their elder would be able to open it within the hour if he was here.

Jimin frowned as well, “I’ll try again this afternoon.”

Jungkook’s eyes narrowed, “That’s early for you.”

“We’re running out of time Jungkook,” Jimin sighed, sinking back into his chair as well, eyeing Claudin with a certain wryness, “I keep hearing stirrings from the guards about how they’ve narrowed their search, but they’re hellbent on saying it was Wheein.”

“Sire,”

They both paused at the sight of Taehyun, a frown on his face as he glanced between them both, an anxious look as he bowed slightly, “It’s the council…they’ve summoned you. It doesn’t sound good, you should come as well Jimin.”

Jungkook glanced at his friend but said nothing as he stood up, not liking this one bit.

The walk to the throne room was swift and Jungkook wasted no time in arriving, the other council members had just arrived as well.

Clearly he wasn’t the only one uncertain of what was going on, other members had started hushing whispers to one another, all glancing in Jungkook’s direction occasionally as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he glanced at the empty throne the seats on its left occupied by his aunt and uncle whispering to one another.

They both glanced at him once before quickly looking away.

The tension felt suffocating and the longer it lasted the more anxious Jungkook felt, seconds turned into minutes and the whispers began to get louder.

And all within a moment, the doors open and a sweepingly silence took over the room save for the sound of boots against the ground. Dae Seong walked with confience in every step before standing before everyone on the throne.

“It is with confidence I have come to announce something of the utmost importance,” His voice boomed, “The attempted assassination on our Crowned Princess, was indeed committed by her maid Jung Wheein, we have reason enough to believe it was her as all the evidence points as such. Her form of punishment will be burning at the stake, tonight at the height of the moon. I ask you all join me on this divine distribution of punishment,”

Groaning softly your vision was blurry at first, and the first person to appear in your vision was not who you expected.

“Not so quick witted now are you Eunoian Bitch,” Seohyun sneered, her smirking figure beneath you as your vision of her doubled.

Your mind was confused as you only remembered Di Jin being here, your eyes closed briefly only for a sharp pain to spread through your side that you recognized as being kicked in the side by her.

Groaning your eyes opened and her eyes beaded, sneering at you as another voice spoke, “Come along now Seohyun, why don’t you go see if that insufferable knight has managed to come back yet, I will finish our business here.”

She eyed you warily but said no more as she left and soon Di Jin stood in front of you, “You have truly been a pain in my ass since I was enlisted to kill you, I only hope you realize that.”

There was no remorse in his eyes as he pulled the wickedly curved knife from it’s sheath and a sadistic smile curled on his face, “Don’t worry Princess, i’ll make sure you have a slow miserable death.”

Despite your sluggish movements, adrenaline had shot in your veins as you realized you were about to die, you had too much to live for still. You needed to see what would come of Eunoia, you needed to make sure Wheein was okay, that you would keep your promise to Jungkook.

You couldn’t die, and you would fight if it meant living to see it.

Your mind was slowly coming out of it’s haze as Di Jin stepped closer to you, realizing you were in the courtyard near the hay bales, the pile you had cleaned early next to you, your arm reached over to grab one of the planks, three long rusted nails sticking out of it.

You swung it with as much force as you could towards his legs, it made contact, the nail piercing his skin with a wet noise as he cried out in pain, falling back on the ground as he growled out. “You dumb bitch, a pain until the end!”

You attempted to crawl away, heart pounding in your ears as you scurried but he was still too mobile, yanking the plank out of his leg with a growl of pain as he managed to get on top of you, you caught his wrists as he attempted to plunge the knife in your throat, “I’ll enjoy watching the life leave your eyes. I’ll be sure to bring your head back for your little husband to see one last time.”

Your strength was already failing as you winced out, the knife slowly coming closer to your skin as you whimpered out as it pierced the first layer of your flesh.

It was an indescrible pain that had you yelping in pain,

“I’ll make these last few moments the most excruciating and perhaps if you beg me enough, I might just end your pathetic little life girl,” Di Jin grinned leaning in closer, “Maybe if you beg me more i’ll give you a little more than just a long death.”

He pushed the knife a little deeper as blood spilled from your skin making you cry out, his body weighing heavier on yours and his lips suddenly pressing to your ear, “Something tells me you’d prefer that over this.”

Something about his lips pressing against your skin lit something primal inside of you, every sense heightened inside you as your lips parted taking a wide bite into his neck, you could taste it first, the metallic flavor of blood running across your tongue and dripping down your throat and then his skin was next, uncomfortably soft and tender and next was the cartilage, it was rubbery and had hard bits in it, next was the sensation of something warm and wet against your face.

Di Jin could no longer properly speak, his grip suddenly loosened on the knife as you yanked the large chunk of flesh straight from his neck, grabbing the knife as you yanked it away shoving him down as you managed to get on top of him.

The chunk missing from his neck was ghastly, blood pooling on the ground, oozing everywhere and squirting from various places and he was gagging loudly, choking on his own blood.

Anger trembled in your body, it wasn’t enough, even with chunks of flesh missing and blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible it still wasn’t enough, before you could even think you plunged the knife into his neck, eyes blurring as you watched him gurgle, choking on his own blood as the life left his eyes.

Your hands were shaking as you waited for him to jump back to life to kill you, and then you slowly realized your vision was blurred from tears, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath yanking the knife out of his neck before you let out blood curdling scream slamming it back in his neck again.

Jungkook’s betrayal.

Wheein being taken.

Exiled from your own kingdom.

Being forced to wed.

Made into a healer as a child.

Bone.

Blood.

Ash.

The mourning bells rang in your head and you could vividly taste the metallic on your tongue stronger than ever as the taste of raw flesh lingered in your throat.

Blood splattered upward as you stabbed the spot over again, all of the rage searing in your veins as Di Jin’s form became disfigured, his neck nearly separating his head from his body as you shoved the knife in deeper.

Hearing the wet gurgling noise as you heaved a breath, staring at his cold dead eyes staring back at you, the next scream was not your own, but it came closer within seconds before the door to the estate opened.

Seohyun was heavily bleeding from her left thigh, sporting a large bite as a loud snarl came from inside the door, shakily you stood up, “Fenrir, wait.”

The large wolf paused, and that's when you noticed the large gash on his leg, causing him to limp, rage quelled in your veins again as you limped over, Seohyun looked pale a ghost at the sight of you.

From the moment this woman met you, she had given you nothing but grief, attempted to humiliate you, belittle you, try to win a lost battle, attempt to kill you, and now she had hurt your precious companion.

Even with a mangled body behind you, it still wasn’t enough.

Tripping over her own two feet she fell down as you walked over, “We can talk about this Y/n!” Her eyes were as big as saucers, “Please! I’ll leave Penumbra and- and never come back.”

You felt nothing for her as you stood above her, watching pathetic tears drip down her face for a long moment, finally you knelt down, “If Penumbra has taught me anything Seohyun, It’s that some people do not deserve my forgiveness, nor my kindness.”

Her lips parted rapidly, her throat scratchy, and for the first time, you saw genuine fear in her eyes, “B-but you’re a Eunoian,”

Her words were pointed, bargaining, pleading even- if you listened close enough, “Eunoian’s don’t kill.”

Your lips slowly lifted into a joyless smile as you let out an uneasy laugh, “Well,” Your smile dropped, your hands were still shaky, unbridled rage still taunt in your veins.

The primal urge of need to prove her wrong, prove all of them wrong, that you would never again be looked down upon as weak or underestimated.

Your hand grabbed her neck, causing her to let out a choked sob as you squeezed it tight enough to choke her airway, yanking her nearly nose to nose with you.

“We’re not in Eunoia, are we?” Your nails dug into her neck, not stopping until you felt the blood from her skin oozing, you shoved her back before you stood up, ignoring her blubbering, tears trickling down her face as you walked away, “Fenrir.”

“Please!”

He let out a growl, “Attack.”

Her cries of agony were left of deaf ears as you walked back over to the corpse of Di Jin grabbing the knife from his neck and yanking it out before taking the sheath that went with it, adjusting it on your waist.

Collapsing on the ground away from him you noticed your hands for the first time, shaking, trembling as your vision blurred once more, scarred and covered in blood, just what had you done?

Fenrir’s mouth was covered in blood, but the whine didn’t escape your ears as he tenderly tried to sit down in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” You ushered, grief strong in your voice though uncertain of who it was for, yourself, your country, your companion, you reached out for him, gently rubbing your hand down his neck, “But we have a long journey ahead of us Fenrir.”

The bells were ringing and a somber air had taken over, Jungkook had nearly lost his entire wits, his father had banished him from the room, not wanting to hear another word from him about this.

Being told he was too sentimental fell on deaf ears, he didn’t care, it was his friend, it was injustice, it was corrupt. He hated it, he hated that despite being the crowned prince, his son, his father simply didn’t care.

All Jungkook could do was wait for Jimin to unlock this damn box. But it felt as though it was too late, he was banned from so much as leaving his room, guards at his door there to keep him boxed in but this wouldn’t stop him.

pulling the cloak over his head, he opened the window, the bricks were jagged and uneven enough that he could easily climb down, he did it often when he was younger, much to the blindness of his father.

Scaling the wall, Jungkook got down, feet planted firmly on the ground as he kept the hood over his head tight as he made his way to the courtyard. A crowd had gathered, all wanting to witness the supposed assassin.

Nobody paid mind to him with his identity concealed, it would be soon now. If he couldn’t get evidence to get Wheein out, then Jungkook would take matters into his own hand. He didn’t want to have Wheein leave Penumbra, but if this is what it took to keep her safe until her innocence was proven, this is what he would do.

He owed so much of his existence to her, he couldn’t let this happen.

He wasn’t going to let this happen.

The bells stopped as Dae Seong stood up from his throne on the wooden stage they had set up, “We have all gathered here to see the execution of the assassin who tried to kill our crowned princess! Her very own handmaid, this is the killer, our own flesh and blood, and the punishment for a traitorous woman is fitting, burning of the steak!”

Wheein was brought out, her hands tied behind her back, her eyes had dark circles and she was crying as she shook her head, “Please! I would never do that to Penumbra! To Y/n! Please you have to believe me!”

But her cries were in vein as the crowd boo’d her, all shouting vile words her way as they dragged her down to the large wooden steak pyre that had been set up.

Jungkook shifted in his spot as he watched them begin to tie her up.

“Are there any last words you would like to impart to us traitor?” Dae Seong looked at her with pure disgust.

Wheein’s lips quivered as she parted them.

A loud bloodcurdling scream interrupted her before she could speak, the crowd tensed and everyone seemed alert, Jungkook was towards the front, having intended on getting her off there the right moment, but he quickly turned around to see people quickly departing and creating a path.

And the next thing he saw was hardly comprehensible.

You, covered in blood, your face was a horrific sight with it’s dried crimson color covering your mouth all the way down your neck, but what was even more horrifying was what was next to you, Fenrir limping beside you, a corpse held in his mouth.

Women screamed and men gasped in horror as they all moved.

The looks on the royals faces were indescribable, Dae Seong most of all, “What is the meaning of this?”

You stopped in front of the throne, Fenrir as if knowing this was the destination, dropped the body from his jaws, it smacked the ground with a wet echo, the head finally detaching from the body as it rolled towards Dae Seong.

You don’t think you had ever seen an expression quite like what Dae Seong had, and you were sure this would be the only time.

It was silent for a long moment before you finally spoke, your throat raw and scratchy, “That’s your assassin, he tried to kill me again just hours ago.”

Dae Seong’s look of shock slowly twisted into one of rage, “Where is your proof of this!” He stood up from his throne towering over you with a growl, “What does a girl like you have meddling in business you don’t understand and taking the lives of those who were helping!”

“Am I standing in front of you not proof enough?” You snarled back, “From the moment I have come to this kingdom I have been nothing but disrespected, disregarded, used, and seen as nothing more than a tool to further someone’s agenda. And i’m sick of it.”

“Even when it comes to my own life, you stand in front of me questioning it!”

“Why I ought too!-”

“I have it!” A voice cried out, Jimin was running from the side entrance of the courtyard, a notebook in his hand as he panted, his eyes widening when they set on you, ‘Y/n!? Are you okay? I have it, I have proof that Di Jin was the assassin! Here, your majesty.”

Dae Seong snatched it with a certain level of venom as he looked through the book, but slowly as his eyes read through, an unreadable look took over his face.

Exhaustion began to take over, your body beginning to sway.

Dae Seong closed the book with a sense of finality, “Very well,” He aid with gritted teeth, anger still simmering in his eyes, “Perhaps, you do have the grit to survive here princess.”

You didn’t hear his words though, your gaze had went down to the body of Di Jin, and swaying backwards you collapsed into an abyss of darkness, nothing more then multiple people calling your name.

[veeparkersstuff]

"You must face it, Cob. Everyone fears their own mortality" -Prince Arren from Tales of Earthsea

⚔️BTS as Studio Ghibli's male characters according to ChatGPT⚔️

(Like or reblog, don't repost pls!🤍)

[mrsparkjimin18]

part 2: bound by duty, torn by desire

It’d been almost a week, yet Jimin’s words lingered continuously through your mind, no matter how much you tried to brush them aside. You kept your distance, donning the same stoic, controlled demeanor ingrained in you since childhood.

In a grand meeting room, you sit amidst the advisors, watching their expressions shift from measured interest to faint skepticism, as you present your proposal for a new trade route that could bolster the struggling kingdom. The air thickens with expectation, and you suspect the underlying tension as they exchange glances.

When you finish, the head advisor waves his hand dismissively, his tone edged with condescension as he addresses you. “That would be reckless. We cannot risk the stability we have,” he argued, casting doubt on the feasibility of your plan without further consideration.

You glanced around at the other advisors and they seemed to agree with simple head nods and a rush of frustration surged through you. This idea wasn’t just any proposal; it was a genuine opportunity for Silla's recovery, a chance to prove to your father that your words mattered – you could control this kingdom and make it prosperous. 

Seated at the head of the table, Jimin leaned forward, a spark of determination igniting in his gaze. “I believe we should consider this idea more seriously,” he interjected, his voice steady. “To move forward as a kingdom, we must embrace innovation rather than fear change. I will personally oversee the discussions on this trade route.”

A wave of satisfaction rises within you, tempered only by the advisors’ begrudging nods and the shuffled rustling of their papers. Frustration simmered beneath your calm exterior and you crossed your arms tightly over your chest as if to hold your true feelings in. Once the meeting concluded and the advisors filed out, you stood in place, the weight of their dismissive attitudes igniting anger that was difficult to shake. 

You walked to the window overlooking the palace grounds, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as if to shield against the sting of rejection. The gardens stretched out below, a vibrant scene filled with life that felt entirely disconnected from the turmoil within you.

“Your Highness?” Jimin’s voice broke through your reverie, soft and cautious. He approached you, concern etched across his features. “Are you alright?”

“No,” you admitted, turning to face him, frustration bubbling over. “I’m tired of being ignored. My ideas… they could truly help Silla, but all they see is the crown I wear.”

Jimin stepped closer, his eyes locking onto yours with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “You’re more than a crown; you’re a voice for the people of this kingdom. Your ideas are valuable, and I promise to support them.”

His words wrapped around you like a soothing balm, calming the storm of emotions inside. Before you realized it, he was close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from him. At that moment, the walls you had built began to crumble. You leaned into him, and lips brushed lightly against yours – an accidental touch, but one that sparked a feeling filled with promise and understanding, as though a silent confession had passed between you two.

Just as quickly as the tenderness bloomed, you pulled back, instinctively shutting down your emotions. “I can’t… I can’t let this happen,” you murmured, stepping away, your heart racing as you distanced yourself again.

“Why not?” Jimin asked, his brow furrowing in confusion and concern. He took a step closer, his voice low and sincere. “What’s holding you back?”

You felt the weight of his gaze on you, a mixture of warmth and inquiry that made your heart flutter and ache. “We should wait until the night of consummation,” you said quickly, grasping at the flimsy excuse. “It’s tradition.”

His expression softened, but the worry remained. “Is it truly just about tradition? Or is there something more?”

You averted your gaze, unable to meet his eyes. “I… I just think it’s best,” you stammered, the unease twisting in your stomach.

“Best for whom?” he pressed gently, stepping even closer, his presence a comforting yet dangerous temptation. “You deserve to be happy too. I want to understand what you’re feeling.”

“Jimin, please,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you took another step back, creating more distance. “We have our duties, our expectations. I can’t let this… whatever it is… interfere.”

He watched you, concern etched across his face. “I don’t want to interfere. I want to support you. You don’t have to hide from me.”

“Maybe it’s safer if I do,” you replied, feeling the heat of unshed tears threatening to spill over. You turned away from him, staring out at the palace grounds, your heart aching with the weight of your conflicting emotions.

As you walked away, you fought to keep your composure, knowing that with each step, you were retreating into the walls you had so carefully built around your heart. You knew you had to play your part, to make him believe in your love while waging a silent war against your feelings.

A few days later, Jimin hesitantly asked, “Would you like to take a walk through the palace gardens with me? The blooms are particularly stunning this time of year.”

You nodded, feeling a twinge of apprehension, and scurried ahead of him to maintain the physical distance you craved. He quickly matched your pace, his footsteps steady beside you as you both walked in silence, the vibrant garden surrounding you.

As you moved through the colorful blooms, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the beauty around you. Instead, your mind was a battlefield, caught between the memory of the kiss you had shared and the necessity of keeping him at arm's length. 

“Do you ever imagine what life would’ve been like without these responsibilities?”

The question struck a chord, though you kept your gaze forward, forcing yourself to remain detached.

“I never had the luxury to imagine such things,” you replied, your tone measured.

But he wasn’t deterred. “That doesn’t mean you’ve never thought about it.”

You hesitated. His quiet persistence unnerved you, and for a moment, the lie you’d prepared clung to the tip of your tongue. But the sincerity in his eyes disarmed you.

“Perhaps,” you admitted, though the word felt foreign leaving your lips. “But this is the path we were given. It’s not a matter of choice.”

Jimin turned, his expression gentle but unyielding. “Doesn’t mean we can’t make something more of it.”

Again, his words stirred a dangerous thought inside you, one you had been too afraid to acknowledge. You reminded yourself of your father’s expectations and the mission that had brought you to this place, fighting to suppress the warmth of his presence that threatened to break through your carefully constructed walls.

The next morning, you found a quiet corner in the grand library, nestled among the towering shelves filled with knowledge accumulated over centuries. In the warm afternoon light, you sat with a book open on your lap, but your thoughts drifted away from its pages, preoccupied with the web of duty and deception you’d been woven into.

Jimin’s soft footsteps broke the silence, and you glanced up to find him standing nearby, a book under his arm. His presence was becoming so familiar that it was both comforting and unsettling.

“I thought you might be here,” he said, settling beside you with a gentle smile. “I wanted to share this with you. It’s a fascinating history of former rulers and the mistakes they made.” He opened the book to a passage and handed it to you. “I find it humbling, learning about what they got wrong. It feels… grounding, I guess. Helps remind me of what not to repeat.”

You glanced down at the open pages, half reading, but your mind was elsewhere, tangled in the tension between your duty to your father and the quiet pull of Jimin’s earnestness. As he continued reading, his calm voice filling the space, you felt your carefully constructed defenses weakening. The choices ahead seemed heavier by the day, and the thought of fulfilling your mission left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Late that afternoon, you walked with Jimin through the palace gardens, reflecting on the meeting from earlier in the morning that had not gone as planned for either of you. 

His advisors were pushing to trade their resources to the West, but the trade lines were unestablished, and it was dangerous to do so without having maintained and protected routes. While you and Jimin had different reasons to oppose this plan, you were still on the same side against the advisors.

One in particular appeared to want to get under your skin. “You may oversee the kingdom from your throne, but we know what is best for the people and this nation, and trade will bring revenue. You’ve never even been into the city, have you? I wouldn’t advise it until you can understand it from a commoner’s point of view. Just stick to what you know.”

It had been a hard meeting to sit through, feeling as if they viewed you as a little girl playing as the future Queen, and the fresh air helped you let go of your animosity. As the sky began to turn shades of orange and pink, he turned to you with a rare smile.

“You should smile more,” he said, his tone teasing but warm.

You raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”

“Because it suits you,” he replied, his smile softening as his eyes held yours. “And remember, I’m on your side. I’ll support you as long as you support me.”

Your heart fluttered, and you quickly turned away, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. Despite yourself, you smiled. The rest of the walk continued in silence, stolen glances and blushing cheeks the only form of communication.

Time passed and late afternoon became early evening, as you entered the dining hall and sat together to share a quiet meal. “Do you ever feel like we’re trapped?” he asked, his voice low as if confessing a secret.

You glanced around at the unaware staff before looking at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. “Trapped?”

“In all of this,” he gestured around him. “The expectations, the duties… sometimes I feel like there’s no room for us to be… just us.”

You studied him for a moment, then nodded. “I know the feeling,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes softened, and you felt a quiet understanding pass between you—an unspoken agreement that you both wished to become more than what the world expected of you, rather than your fathers.

As the cooler days of mid-autumn arrived, you met Jimin in the palace garden before heading to your separate sleeping chambers. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of fallen leaves, and the stars shone brightly above. Beneath the ancient willow tree, a new sense of closeness settled between you, unspoken yet undeniable. You could feel the pull of the moment, the weight of all that had been building between you, and in the quiet stillness of the night, you grew fearful—not of your mission or even of him, but of the dangerous way your feelings seemed to deepen.

The gentle whisper of an autumn breeze was the only sound between you. Jimin turned to you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. His hand gently brushed yours, sending a familiar warmth through your skin.

"Your Highness," he whispered, his voice low and intimate, "there’s somewhere I want to take you. Somewhere secret, outside the palace walls." His words hung in the air, a tantalizing offer of freedom. 

For a moment, the weight of your duty seemed to lift, and all that mattered was the thrill of escaping—just the two of you, far from the watchful eyes of the court. The temptation to leave behind the confines of your world, if only for a night, tugged at your heart. Without waiting for your answer, Jimin’s hand tightened slightly around yours, his smile daring you to follow him into the unknown.

The palace seemed to grow smaller behind you, its towering spires fading into the distance as you and Jimin made your way into the heart of the town. Dressed in simple cloaks, with your faces hidden beneath the hoods, you moved quietly through the cobbled streets, unnoticed by the guards or the townspeople. The cool night air carried the sounds of life—laughter, music, and the murmur of conversation spilling out from taverns and homes.

Your heart raced, not from fear, but from excitement. It had been so long since you ventured out like this—since you had walked the streets anonymously, mingling among people you were destined to rule. Tonight, however, you were not alone. Jimin walked beside you, his presence a constant reminder of the dangerous feelings you were struggling to contain.

"This way," Jimin whispered, gesturing toward a narrow alleyway that led to the market square. You followed him on a path similar to the one that leads to the city outside of your palace, winding through shadowed corners and past brightly lit stalls. The smells of fresh bread, roasted meats, and sweet pastries filled the air as you approached the market, bustling even at this late hour.

As you stepped into the square, you felt a sense of freedom wash over you, as though the weight of your titles had momentarily lifted. You were no longer the former Princess of Goguryeo, and he was no longer Prince Jimin of Silla. Here, among the commoners, you were simply two people hidden from the eyes of the world.

Jimin paused near a stall selling trinkets and handcrafted jewelry. He picked up a delicate silver bracelet, turning it over in his hands, admiring the craftsmanship, before setting it back down. You watched him, curious.

"Why did you bring me here?" you asked quietly.

He smiled, his eyes glinting beneath his hood. "I wanted you to see what I see when I come here. I come to places like this often when I'm alone."

You frowned, surprised. "You come here? Into the town? Why?"

Jimin’s gaze drifted over the market, watching as a young boy chased after his sister, their laughter bright in the night air. A group of artisans haggled with a merchant over the price of goods, their gestures animated and full of life.

"I’ve done this for years," he said softly, turning to face you. "I sneak out of the palace whenever I can. I need to see it all for myself—the real kingdom, not just the one we rule from up there," he said, nodding in the direction of the distant palace. "My father believes in ruling from a throne, in making decisions that serve his ambitions. But how can you lead people if you don't know them? If you've never walked in their shoes, feel what they’ve felt?"

His words struck a chord deep within you. It was the same reason you had begun sneaking into town, the same reason you had disguised yourself to live, even for a few moments, among your people. In the palace, everything was cold and calculated, built on strategies and alliances, but here—here, life was vibrant and real. The people who would live under your rule weren’t just nameless figures in a distant province. They were right here, living, breathing, struggling, and thriving. How could you rule them without understanding their lives?

Jimin continued, his voice filled with passion. "I want to be a different kind of ruler. I don’t want to sit on a throne and dictate from a distance. I want to know these people. I want them to trust me, not fear me. That’s why I come here, why I talk to them, learn from them. How can I build a kingdom of peace if I don’t understand the ones who live in it?"

You stared at him, your heart pounding as you absorbed his words. His vision for the future, his belief in ruling through understanding rather than power, was the same vision you had kept hidden for so long. He was speaking the truth you had never dared to voice.

"I did the same," you admitted softly, your voice barely a whisper. "I visited the city outside of my palace for years, too. Disguised, hidden. I listened to their stories and watched them live their lives. It’s the only place where I felt..." You trailed off, unsure if you should reveal too much.

Jimin's eyes searching yours, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "Where you felt free?" he finished gently.

You nodded, the confession hanging between you like a fragile secret. In this moment, you felt more connected to him than you had to anyone in your life. He understood—he knew what it meant to live between two worlds, to be bound by duty yet long for something more. The affection you had been fighting to suppress surged in your chest, undeniable and terrifying. How could you resist someone who shared your secret hopes and dreams? How could you continue to follow your father’s plan when Jimin stood beside you, offering a glimpse of the life you had always wanted?

Jimin’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his voice barely audible over the bustling market. "We’re not so different, you and I."

His words made your heart ache with confusion. You were different. He was a dreamer, a man who believed in peace and love, while you were a weapon forged for conquest, conditioned to betray and destroy. And yet, his presence stirred something deep inside you, a longing for the future you had never thought possible—a future with him.

"Jimin," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "what if..." But you stopped yourself, unsure of what you were about to say or the dangerous path your heart was leading you down.

He turned toward you, stepping closer, his eyes locking with yours. "What if what?"

You swallowed, the words stuck in your throat. What if I can’t do it? What if I can’t betray you? What if I want more than power? But you said nothing, your silence betraying the battle raging within you.

Jimin reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your hand. It was a small gesture, barely a touch, but it sent a shock through you. "You don’t have to fight this alone," he said softly. "I’m struggling just as you are. I’ve grown to care deeply for a woman who doesn’t appear to feel the same. Eventually, maybe you will, or we’ll make this work another way."

Another way. The words were so simple, yet they carried the weight of a world you had longed for. But the shadows of your father’s command still loomed, and you knew that the choice ahead of you was far from easy.

As you stood there, surrounded by the life and laughter of the market, your heart warred with your duty, and for the first time, you truly weren’t sure which would win.

Autumn neared it’s end and winter was fast approaching, which seemed to be all too soon. Beneath the ancient willow tree, you found yourselves standing in silence, but it wasn’t the comforting quiet it usually was. It was laden with unspoken truths, words neither of you dared to voice.

Jimin finally broke the stillness, his tone gentle but direct. “I feel there’s something you’re not telling me.”

Your breath hitched, and you fought to keep your expression neutral. Trust was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not with him.

“I’ve never asked for more than you’re willing to share,” he continued softly, stepping closer, “but if you ever need to, I’m here.”

His patience, his understanding, only made the ache in your chest grow stronger. You had spent so long convincing yourself that feelings had no place in this equation. But now, standing under the stars with him, the weight of your choices felt unbearable.

“What if I can’t?” The question escaped before you could stop, a quiet plea you hadn’t intended to voice.

Jimin’s eyes softened, and his voice lowered. “Then we’ll face it together; whatever it is that weighs heavy on your mind, we’ll get through it. Together.”

For a moment, you let yourself believe him. You allowed the possibility of a different future to bloom—a future where you were free from the chains of duty, where you and Jimin could carve out a life beyond the reach of your father’s shadow.

But reality was swift to crush that fleeting hope. You had already set events into motion, and there was no escaping what was to come.

As the day faded into evening, the moon hung low in the sky, casting a soft silver glow over the palace gardens. You and Jimin had spent hours walking through the quiet paths, talking of everything and nothing, your footsteps light on the frosted, dew-kissed grass. In his presence, the weight of your titles and the impending decisions fade into the background.

At the edge of the gardens stood a small pavilion draped in flowering vines, its wooden beams worn smooth by time. A place of refuge, hidden away from the eyes of the palace. Jimin stopped there, his hand resting lightly on one of the posts as he turned to look at you. The warmth in his gaze was undeniable, and you felt your heart lurch in your chest.

"Your Highness," he said softly, your name lingering on his lips like a whispered secret.

You stepped closer, the tension between you palpable in the night air. You could feel it—this pull, this dangerous, magnetic force drawing you toward him. The rational part of your mind screamed for you to step back, to remember who you were and what you were meant to do. But your heart, already so entangled in this impossible bond, refused to listen.

"I don’t know how much longer I can do this," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the gentle rustling of the leaves. I can't pretend that I don’t feel anything.

Jimin’s eyes darkened, his gaze softening with an intensity that made your breath catch. He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against your hand, and it felt as though the entire world stopped around you. The cool night air suddenly felt warmer, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.

"You don’t have to fight it," Jimin murmured, his voice low and intimate.

Your heart raced as his hand slid up your arm, the gentle touch sending shivers through your body. You could feel his warmth, the nearness of his presence, and it made everything else—your duty, your father’s plans—fade into a distant, meaningless hum.

Jimin took your hand, intertwining your fingers, a delicate touch both tentative and certain, as if he, too, was afraid of crossing this invisible line between you but unable to stop himself. His thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, the simple gesture igniting a storm of emotions you had fought to suppress.

"Your Highness," he whispered again, his voice like a quiet plea. "I’ve tried to keep my distance, tried to be the person I’m supposed to be. But I can’t anymore. Not when you’re right here, within my grasp, to hold and feel your warmth, to kiss those lips I’ve been longing to taste."

His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of what they meant. You knew, at this moment, you were teetering on the edge of something you couldn’t take back. But you were tired of pretending, tired of denying the connection between you.

"I’m not supposed to feel this way," you breathed, your voice trembling. The unspoken truth—the path your father had set you on—loomed at the back of your mind, but you kept it buried, hidden deep beneath the surface. You couldn’t bring yourself to admit it aloud.

Jimin’s gaze never wavered, his eyes full of understanding and something deeper—something that made your heart ache. He reached up, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingers softly grazing your skin. The tenderness of the gesture unraveled the last threads of your resolve.

"This is uncharted territory for both of us," he said gently, his voice steady with quiet conviction. "We may not know exactly how to navigate this, but here we are. While we had no choice in the beginning, love can grow between us in time—if we allow it."

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. The warmth of his touch was like a balm to your troubled soul, and you leaned into it, craving the closeness, the comfort, the safety he seemed to offer.

When you opened your eyes, Jimin was closer than before, his face inches from yours. His breath mingled with yours, and you could see the way his gaze flickered down to your lips, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

You knew what was about to happen, and yet you couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to stop it.

Slowly, carefully, as if giving you every chance to pull away, Jimin leaned in. His lips brushed yours in the softest of kisses, tentative and questioning as if he were waiting for permission to go further. But instead of pulling back, you pressed closer, deepening the kiss, the last of your resistance melting away.

The kiss was slow and gentle, yet filled with a longing that had been simmering beneath the surface for too long. Jimin’s hand moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. Your hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers, grounding you in the moment.

Time stood still and it felt like just the two of you existed in the world—nothing else mattered. His lips were soft against yours, his touch tender yet filled with restrained passion. You felt the emotions you had tried to bury rising to the surface, spilling out in every breath, every touch. You knew you shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t be feeling any emotions, but for once, you didn’t care.

When you finally pulled away, your breaths mingled in the crisp night air, Jimin rested his forehead against yours. His hand remained on your waist, keeping you close, as if afraid to let go.

"You don’t have to choose between duty and your heart," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "We can find another way, Your Highness. Together."

Tears pricked at your eyes, the weight of his words crashing down on you. The choice before you felt impossible, and yet, in his arms, you dared to hope that maybe—just maybe—there was a different path. One where you didn’t have to follow your father’s path. One where you didn’t have to become the weapon he had forged you to be.

"I don’t know how," you admitted, your voice breaking. "I don’t know if I’m strong enough."

Jimin’s hand moved to your face, gently cupping your cheek as he looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with unwavering resolve. "You are. You’re stronger than you know. And I’ll be by your side when you feel you’re not strong enough, holding your hand every step of the way."

At that moment, you believed him. You believed in the possibility of a different future—one not defined by betrayal and bloodshed but by love and hope. But as the night stretched on, you knew the choice still loomed. The snow would fall soon, and with it, the decision that would shape the rest of your life.

But tonight, in Jimin’s embrace, you let yourself believe in the impossible, even if it was only for a little while longer.

Tonight is the night, the first snowfall, the night tradition dictated you consummate your marriage. As you stand before the mirror in your opulent chamber, the weight of your father’s command feels almost tangible. Your gown, embroidered with silver and sapphire, is exquisite, yet it barely masks the burden of the night ahead. The reflection staring back at you is a blend of regal beauty and concealed resolve.

The grand hall is awash with candlelight as you make your way to the chamber where Jimin awaits. His silhouette against the window is both imposing and oddly comforting. You step forward, your heart pounding with each measured stride.

“Your Highness,” Jimin says, turning to face you with a smile that seems both genuine and welcoming. “You look…stunning.” After giving you a once over, his dark eyes meet yours, and you’re struck by how open and sincere he appears.

“Thank you, Prince Jimin,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady despite the storm inside you. You approach him –  your every step a battle between duty and the burgeoning connection you feel.

The moonlight streamed into Jimin’s chambers, casting long, soft shadows across the room. It was the only light illuminating the space, giving everything a dreamlike quality. You and Jimin stood together in silence, the air between you thick with unspoken words and emotions that had simmered for so long.

“Is something troubling you?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

You hesitated, caught between the demands of your duty and the connection growing between you. “I… I’m just nervous,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin took your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “As am I,” he confessed, “I’ve imagined this moment since the day I first saw you. There’s no need to be afraid. We’ll explore this new intimacy together.”

He reached out, brushing a tender hand against your cheek, his touch sending a shiver through you – not from the cold, but from the weight of what was to come. The world outside his chambers seemed distant and insignificant, leaving only the two of you in this moment.

He drew you closer, gently resting his forehead against yours. The nearness was overwhelming yet soothing. His breath mingled with yours as your lips met in a slow and deliberate kiss, full of the emotions neither of you had dared speak aloud. His hands, gentle but insistent, found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, eliminating the space between you.

The kiss deepened, shifting into something raw and desperate – a culmination of the unspoken longing that had built between you for months. His lips were soft but hungry, as though he couldn’t get enough of you. And for the first time, you let yourself give in completely, allowing your walls to fall.

With one smooth motion, Jimin’s hand moved to release your hair from its pin, the metal clinking softly to the floor. His fingers combed through your curls, tender yet possessive, letting them cascade over your shoulders like a waterfall. His eyes, darkened with desire, followed your every movement as you slowly turned your back to him, heart racing. His hands found the laces of your corset, loosening them with agonizing slowness, the tension between you thickening with each tug.

As he removed it, your dress slid from your body, pooling at your feet. When you turned to face him again, his gaze roamed over you, as though memorizing every inch. His fingers grazed your skin, first your collarbone, then the delicate straps of your silk slip. Reverence mingled with his desire as he slid the material lower, exposing your breasts to the cool air and his hungry eyes.

Jimin’s lips were on you before you could take another breath, his mouth claiming your skin with fervor. He suckled at your nipple, the warmth of his breath and the soft pull of his lips sending a shiver down your spine. A low, guttural moan escaped him, vibrating against your skin and stirring something deep within you.

As he pushed the final silk layer lower, it slipped past your hips and fell to the floor, leaving you completely bare before him. You felt the heat of his gaze lingering on every inch of your exposed body, his desire palpable in the way his breath quickened.

He kissed his way back up to your lips, capturing them in a slow, heated kiss that left you breathless. His hands, rough yet tender, explored your body with a familiar intimacy, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. His fingers fumbled with his clothing, but his lips rarely strayed from yours. Only when he reached for the hem of his shirt did he pull away, his eyes locking onto yours, full of promises unspoken but deeply understood.

He stripped away his shirt, revealing the taut muscles beneath his skin as he stepped closer. The air between you crackled with anticipation, each touch, each kiss, building a fire that had been smoldering for too long. As his hands returned to you, pressing your bodies together, the world seemed to shrink until only the two of you existed.

Jimin guided you to the bed, the cool silk sheets a contrast to the heat your bodies were creating. His hands traced every inch of your skin with reverence, as though committing you to memory. Your breaths intertwined as you surrendered to the moment, your heart racing, your mind lost to the intensity of it all. Each touch, each kiss, was a quiet confession of all that couldn’t be said aloud.

When he entered you, it was slow and deliberate; his movements filled with tenderness and restrained passion. You felt the depth of your connection in every moment, every motion—a bond that transcended duty, kingdom, and betrayal. For that time, there was no world outside this room, no looming shadows—only love, raw and unspoken.

As the two of you moved together, the intimacy became overwhelming. Jimin’s whispered breaths against your neck, the way his hands held you as if you were something precious—it was as if every touch, every kiss, was a silent declaration of all he felt for you.

When the moment finally reached its peak, the release came like a wave crashing over both of you, leaving you breathless and entwined, the sheets tangled around your legs as you clung to each other.

For a few moments, all was quiet. The only sound in the room was the gentle rise and fall of your breaths, the steady beat of Jimin’s heart against your chest.

The moonlight suddenly seemed to radiate brighter through the window, illuminating the room in a silvery glow. The reality of what you had done began to settle back over you. Lying there, entangled with him, the weight of your duty rushed back, heavy and suffocating.

Jimin’s arm lay draped across your waist, his breathing even and calm. He was unaware of the storm of conflict brewing inside you, the cold resolve that had returned to your mind despite the warmth of your body still pressed against his. Carefully, silently, you slipped from his embrace, your fingers finding the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath the pillow.

The metal felt cold in your hand as you stood, the moonlight bathing you in its pale glow. You felt its weight, the jagged, carved edges of the handle biting into your palm as you gripped it tightly. Your heart pounded in your chest, the echo of what you were supposed to do reverberating in your mind.

Jimin stirred slightly in his sleep, a soft sigh escaping his lips. You looked down at him, his face peaceful in the dim light, so unaware of the danger before him. You hesitated, the dagger heavy in your hand. This was the moment your father had prepared you for—the moment you were meant to secure your kingdom’s future through cold efficiency, as he had taught you. But standing there, the blade ready, something inside you wavered.

You felt the familiar tug of doubt, the quiet voice that had grown louder with every moment you’d spent with him. Could you do it? Could you kill the man who had shown you kindness, who had offered you a future filled with hope and possibility? The man who had just held you so tenderly in his arms?

Your hand trembled as you stood over him, dagger in hand, the weight of your father's command pressed down on you, but the pull of your heart was stronger. You looked down at Jimin—so peaceful, so unaware—and slowly, the cold resolve in your chest began to thaw. Your grip on the dagger loosened, and you quietly placed it back beneath the pillow. For tonight, you couldn’t be the weapon your father forged you to be.

Instead, you lay back down beside Jimin, his warmth enveloping you as you settled against him. His arm instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you close, as though even in his sleep he could feel the connection between you. You closed your eyes, breathing in the scent of him, allowing yourself—for just this one night—to give in to the love you’d tried so hard to deny. Tomorrow, you would have to face the consequences of your choices, but for now, in the soft moonlit silence of his chambers, you chose him.

The next morning, you rose early, slipping out of Jimin’s embrace before he woke. You dressed quietly, stealing one last glance at him before leaving his chambers. Stepping outside, the crisp morning air filled your lungs, a mix of excitement and dread about the future settling in your heart. Just as you began to gather your thoughts, a palace servant approached, bowing respectfully.

“Your Royal Highness, you have a visitor,” the servant announced.

“A visitor?” you asked, curiosity piqued. “Who is it?”

“It’s the Crown Prince, your brother,” the servant replied.

Your heart skipped; it felt like it’d been an eternity since you’d last seen your younger brother, and you nearly ran before asking, “Where is he?”

“He’s waiting in the garden, Your Highness. He requested to speak with you in private.”

Nodding, you followed the servant through the cold, hushed corridors of the palace until you reached the garden. The usual vibrant blooms lay dormant, replaced by a heavy layer of snow that blanketed the ground. The stark landscape felt ominous, and the quietness wrapped around you like a shroud as you spotted your brother seated on a stone bench, his expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“Brother!” you exclaimed, as you stood within inches of him. “What’s the matter?”

His eyes darted around to ensure no one else was listening before he leaned closer. “I couldn’t wait to tell you what I overheard, Your Highness,” he whispered urgently. “It’s about Father.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you nodded for him to continue.

“I heard him speaking to Lord Hwang in the war chamber,” he said, his voice trembling. “He was discussing you. Once you’d completed your task, he planned to have you arrested.”

“Arrested?” you echoed, confusion and fear coursing through you. “Why?”

“Because he intended for you to kill Prince Jimin,” your brother explained, his voice barely above a whisper. “After that, he planned to execute you. He believed your death would secure the trust between the Kim and Park dynasties.”

A chill washed over you, colder than the winter air, each word sending shockwaves through your body. Your father had plotted to use you as a pawn all along—an expendable piece in his game of power. He never intended for you to live. The moment you fulfilled your duty, you would be discarded, sacrificed for the sake of his ambition.

“I can’t believe this…” you murmured, the weight of betrayal nearly crushing you.

“Please, Your Highness, you must be careful,” he urged, grabbing your hands tightly. “You cannot go through with his plan. You have to warn Jimin.”

The walls of the garden seemed to close in around you as you shook off the shock and made your way back inside, determined to find him. There was no longer any doubt in your mind. You could not betray Jimin, and now you knew your father was more dangerous than you had ever imagined.

Finally, you rushed through the corridors until you found Jimin, alone in his chambers. His expression lit up the moment he saw you, but before he could speak, you closed the distance between you, taking his hands in yours.

“Jimin,” you said breathlessly, your voice trembling with urgency. “There’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been lying to you… about everything.”

His smile faltered, concern flooding his features. “What do you mean? What’s going on, Your Highness?”

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding. “My brother came to see me. He overheard my father speaking to his statesman about our marriage and what he planned to do after it was consummated.”

Jimin’s brow furrowed, his expression turning serious. “What did he hear?”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “My father ordered me to kill you once our union was secure. He believed that by solidifying our kingdoms through your death, he could strengthen our alliance with the Silla nation. But that’s not all—after I did it, he intended to arrest me and execute me to prove his loyalty to your family.”

Jimin’s face went pale, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. “Your father… wanted you to kill me, and then he was going to arrest and execute you?”

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “I can’t believe he would do this to me… to us. My brother was horrified by what he heard. I came back as soon as I could because I realized I couldn’t go through with his plan. I don’t care about his expectations; I just… I can’t lose you. I won’t betray you.”

Jimin stared at you for a long moment, his eyes filled with disbelief, anger, and something softer. Slowly, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close, his chin resting on the top of your head.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.”

Jimin’s arms tightened around you, his voice low but steady. “You didn’t betray me, my love. You came back. You told me the truth, and that means everything.”

Pulling back slightly, you searched his eyes for any sign of doubt or fear. All you saw was a quiet resolve, a determination that mirrored your own.

“We can’t stay here,” you said quietly. “If my father finds out I’ve returned to you… he’ll come for both of us.”

Jimin nodded, his expression hardening. “Then we need a plan. We can’t just run; it won’t work. We have to fake my death.”

Your heart raced at the thought, a mix of fear and hope swirling within you. “Fake your death? How do we even do that?”

Jimin’s face contorted as he thought. “We can stage an attack, one that looks real. We’ll make it seem like I’ve been killed. That way, your father won’t come after you immediately. We’ll have time to regroup and find allies.”

A flicker of hope ignited in your chest. “You think we can pull this off?”

Jimin’s lips curved into a determined smile. “I know we can. We just need to be clever and act quickly. We can gather some of my most trusted guards. They’ll help us create the illusion we need.”

But just as you began to feel the excitement of your plan taking shape, a guard burst into the room, his expression frantic. “Your Highness, you must come quickly! The King—he has fallen ill!”

The urgency of the news sent a wave of worry through you. Jimin’s expression darkened. “This could complicate things,” he said, his voice tense.

“Yes,” you agreed, feeling the weight of the situation settle over you. “We’ll need to delay our plan until we know more about his condition.”

“Let’s focus on ensuring my fathers recovery,” Jimin suggested, his resolve unshaken. “Once things are stable, we can move forward with our plan. But for now, we need to stay close to the palace and keep a low profile.”

You nodded, your heart heavy with uncertainty, but you were grateful for Jimin’s unwavering support. Together, you turned to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that time was both your ally and your enemy.

[drawballa]

Shield & Shelter Chapter 6 (4/5)

ALL CHAPTERS: https://www.tumblr.com/drawballa/708347107446226945/shield-shelter-royalau-master-post?source=share