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helenazbmrskai · 1 year

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Seducing the Villain 1

▫ Pairing [Villain!Taehyung x Reader x Noble!BTS] ▫ Genre [Historical Drama, Fantasy, Reincarnation Au, Romance, Smut, Angst, Royal Au] ▫ Summary [Sweat is beading on your hairline as you're face to face with the crown prince and this novel's villain. The main character will order your execution just before the novel ends because of her association with the anti-king faction. You're royally screwed. You need to survive. But how can you do that in a small character's skin? If you think about it there wasn't a heroine in this story, to begin with, because the genre of the story was a- tragedy?!] ▫ Warnings [none] ▫ Rating [+16] ▫ Word Count [5k+] A/N Lately I've been obsessed with the anime called I'm the villainess, So I'm Taming the Final Boss so this is a story I came up with. There will be more parts to come so please anticipate my return dear readers!

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Next⇢ Seducing the Villain 2

Your fingers touch the smooth skin under your eye with unfamiliarity. It can't be you. It's impossible. Your complexion embodied through the mirror is looking back at you as white as a sheet. As if you're seeing a ghost in the reflection. This girl has fair skin with lovely facial features: in other words, she does not resemble you at all. "No way! This can't be happening right?"

"My lady are you alright? We heard a scream." A woman in her late 20s comes in running while wearing a victorian maid dress. She looks you over from head to toe trying to figure out the exact spot that you've been hurting and if you look past the lady you see two more maids waiting in line a few steps behind for instructions.

It isn't been long ago since you woke up in this weird place. You found yourself so caught up by your appearance that you ignored the gnawing feeling that this face of yours seem familiar somehow. Your button nose is scrunched up in a frown as you try to make the puzzle pieces fit. The longer you stare at your reflection in the mirror the clearer the features you resemble make you think of someone that you read about in a novel. You don't remember much since you read it when you were younger but these long crimson locks framing your face paired with eyes that shine emerald makes you think of a small side character from the novel. What was her name again?

"Y/N." You turn around when you hear that name called out. That's it! Now you remember her. She was just a small character in the novel with not many lines except- Oh no!

You're met with deep green eyes resembling yours.

"Y-Yoongi." His name just slips out between your lips. You know who this is. It's Y/N's brother Yoongi and the advisor of the king. Yoongi frowns when he sees you still in your sleepwear. His strides are elegant and you've become almost mesmerized by his beauty until he's standing so close to you.

"Why is she not ready yet?" The coldness in his voice is unmistakable as he addresses your maids, his piercing eyes turned away from you but you shiver all the same from its effects.

"Please forgive us we will get the princess ready right away." You're whiskered away in the bathroom right after where you're bathed in scented oils and scrubbed to perfection. Your cheeks were red the whole time due to embarrassment. No one bathed you before and the prospect of being naked while others were in the room even if they were your servants makes you blush. The dressing was another feat as well. The many layers and ribbons made you suffocate. You managed to order them to give you a simpler dress so you could breathe easier. They looked at you weirdly for the request but your head is already filled with so many things to think about that you dismissed the stares of surprise on their faces.

In the end, you were led to a room with luxurious furniture. You didn't question the maid when she told you his highness will come to see you shortly because you were glad to be alone with your thoughts for a little. You've been trying to recall as much as you could from the novel that you read but it seems like it's been too long for you to remember anything besides the main plot.

It was a light novel containing only 60 pages or so and you clearly remember the main character to be prince Taehyung who gets to the throne early because of his father's assassination. In the palace, Taehyung had many enemies because he tried to dismiss the council of nobles to be the sole ruler of Eradian.

"Are you alright princess?" You didn't realise someone has been calling you for a while until they are right in front of you. His dark eyes are making you look down at the hands you have fisted on top of your knees. He asked you if you were alright however there's not even a light of concern for you in his eyes.

"I- I'm sorry it was not my intention to ignore you, your highness." Sweat is beading on your hairline as you're face to face with the crown prince and this novel's villain. The main character will order your execution just before the novel ends because of her association with the anti-king faction. You're royally screwed.

"This is not an answer to my question princess." He has such an innocent expression on but for some reason you can't help but tense up under his searching gaze. He's even more handsome than you imagined while reading. A man this handsome shouldn't be so cruel.

"I'm alright. Thank you for your concern, your highness." Your smile is forced to the point of the corner of your lips starting to quiver but the prince thankfully lets it slide. You're sure he could tell that something is different about you. No wonder since if you were following the plot you would be head over heels for him doing anything and everything in your power to make him fall in love with you all the while ignoring the darkness in his gaze. Good thing that you're not Y/N. The only reason he let her stay by his side in the novel and endures her presence is because he needs her brother to be his advisor once he's appointed as the new king and despite his cold exterior Yoongi loves his sister dearly. In the novel prince Taehyung let her believe that she has a chance but in his head, he thought that the girl following her around was utterly pathetic, to begin with. You're actually feeling sad for this side character.

"I'm sure you must be busy I hope I'm not taking up so much of your time." Whilst you're smiling you're thinking of different matters. You hope he leaves soon. You have no idea how you should act in front of the crown prince. You might have watched a lot of old-school dramas but your knowledge of this time period is very limited. You should visit the library after you get out of here to study the customs so you're not too out of place here.

"Are you sure you're alright, princess? You seem a bit different." You're too surprised to reply when the prince places a lock of hair behind your ears. He's too close. His breath is fanning across your face but you're able to detect the mirth in his gaze. He's just playing with you.

"I- maybe I'm a bit tired I couldn't sleep so well last night. Haha." You press your back desperately against the back of the seat to get away from the prince's alluring presence. You're rightfully terrified to be so close to him knowing what he's capable of.

The prince was about to say something when a knock was delivered on the door. Taehyung stood up from his position and walked over to the seat he previously occupied facing you before he let anyone in. You're relieved that it was Yoongi who interrupted your time with the prince. You have to think of a plan while you're at it for how to deal with the prince and avoid your inevitable doom in this world.

"I apologise for the interruption but the king is requesting your presence, your highness." Taehyung doesn't take his eyes off you even in your brother's presence. The three of you remain silent for a few passing minutes before the crown prince takes the first step. There's something changing in his expression when you shy away from his gaze as he gives your hand a goodbye kiss before he exits the room followed by a few guards who have been stationed in front of the door for the safety of the prince.

You slump against the chair once he's gone and you let out a sigh of relief. Phew, that was a close call. You have to be more careful around him as you have no idea what he's thinking about. He might be already plotting your death for all you know.

"Brother could you perhaps direct me to the palace library?" You straighten out the invisible wrinkles on your dress with a determined expression on your face. Yoongi thinks that you've been acting weird since you woke up this morning but now he's sure something is up with you. First, you request a simple dress when you know you're about to see the crown prince which is unlike you. You've been trying to win prince Taehyung's heart since you made your debut in society. Also, the girl who never held a book in her hand in her whole life requests to go to the library all of a sudden.

"W-What are you doing?" You let out a squeak when Yoongi places a palm on your forehead delicately combing your hair to the side.

"Hm, it doesn't seem like you have a fever." Yoongi is mumbling disregarding your questioning gaze as he pins you down with a worried look that makes your heart melt a little.

"You don't have to worry brother I'll save us!" You grab his hand and place it over your cheek to nuzzle into with a big grin. "Now tell me where I can find the library!" You pull him by the hand out of the door surprising the guards for a moment but they follow behind you without saying a word. Yoongi's confused pout is adorable but fortunately, he lets your weird behaviour alone for now and shows you the way. On your way, he shakes your hand off and places it at the small of your back to guide you. You didn't find it weird but it seems like it's unusual for family members to hold each other's hands- noted. His duties soon called him so you were left alone with two guards in the library. You were able to find a pen and some paper so you started to make a plan for yourself.

You try to jot down everything you remember from the novel and try to make a backup plan so you're not executed in the end. A shiver runs down your spine as you think about that possibility. Let's gather what you know.

1) The king will be murdered sometime soon as Taehyung became the king quite early in the novel.

2) Min Y/N the useless daughter of a small noble family whose body you took over, has a brother Yoongi who is good at everything so he's been recognised by the king and asked to be his advisor despite he's only turning 30 soon.

3) The main character prince Taehyung. Despite his boxy smile and friendly appearance, he's been a real devil child ever since he was young he developed this obsession with becoming the king but even at the end of the novel his true intentions were not revealed.

You need to think this through rationally. You can't prevent the king from getting murdered. You don't remember when it will happen for you to make a plan and if you mention it to anyone they will just think that you're crazy or worse- if the king truly dies they will think you had something to do with it! You can't possibly let that happen.

Maybe you should just focus on Y/N for now until you're able to grasp the current flow of the plot.

The best way for you to prevent your death is to minimize your contact with the crown prince as much as you can and when the time comes that the anti-king faction asks for your help you decline their offer and find a way to get out of the palace with Yoongi before Taehyung becomes a tyrant and burns this entire place down. But how can you do that in a small character's skin? If you think about it there wasn't a heroine in this story, to begin with, because the genre of the story was a- tragedy?! There are so many books that you read why it had to be this one without a female lead? You bump your forehead on the desk as you think of your impending death. Dark clouds loom over your head as you can't think of anything to help you survive being teleported into this novel. Maybe some fresh air would do you some good. You walk to the tall windows and manage to open one. It's windier than you expected as your hair runs wild with the invisible caress of the wind obscuring your view until you can get a few stray strands behind your ears.

You can see the entire garden from up here, it's so beautiful. You remember Taehyung's late mother liked the garden so much that she planned most of it herself. The gazebos and the flower arrangements are well taken care of even a new tea party set has been planted recently with tables and shades. No one knows that it's Taehyung who manages the garden now, it makes him feel closer to her. Even if you know that Taehyung is evil you can't help but feel sympathy for him in a way. He did have a rough life from the beginning. In the novel, he came to the garden a lot to think. It was a safe space for him. For some reason you remember what your mother used to say to you. No one becomes a villain unless someone steals their happy ending.

"Right!" A light bulb suddenly appears as the gears in your head keep turning as you think. All you have to do is just not let Taehyung turn into a villain so he has no reason to execute you! You need to make another plan. First, you need to write down everything that later becomes Taehyung's undoing and then- "Princess!" You hear someone shouting but it's too late by the time you realise what's happening. The heel of your shoe breaks off and you nearly fall out the open window if it weren't for someone catching you at the last minute. "Princess are you alright?!" Your heart is hammering away in your chest as you cling to the person holding you. When you look up to meet the eye of your lifesaver you see warm chocolate brown. Huh. You didn't think you will see such important people in the novel on the same day you woke up in this world. Those brown eyes and boyish features couldn't belong to anyone but Taehyung's royal knight Jeongguk the crown prince's first and foremost supporter. He will meet his fate at the hands of Taehyung just like you if you don't do something to change this novel's tragic ending.

"Thank you sir Jeongguk, it could have ended badly if it weren't for you." Huh. You can't believe you almost died because of a stupid heel. Wait. You do remember this!

Y/N in the novel tried to win Taehyung's heart with different schemes and one of them was that she tempered with her own shoes to fall hoping that the crown prince will catch him and suddenly fall in love with her while holding her in his arms. It's so stupid that you actually laughed when it happened! It must be because you cut the meeting short with him that it suddenly broke when you were in the library instead.

You tried to get on your two feet with the help of Jeongguk but you wobbled as soon as you put weight on them. That's just great. How will you carry out your plan if you can't even walk because you sprained your ankle from such a small accident? This is ridiculous!

"Could you perhaps assist me until we reach my room sir Jeongguk? I don't think I will be able to walk like this." You're so embarrassed to make this request that you can't even look him in the eye. How can you be so unlucky already?!

"Please forgive me, princess." You're confused why he's apologising until he slides a hand under your knee and picks you up. You cling to his neck like a monkey as he carries you through the palace the maids whispering behind your back as you pass them. This will surely cause a scandal. How inconvenient.

"Jeongguk what happened?" That voice. The crown prince?! You unconsciously tighten your hold on the knight's shoulder before you meet the prince's intense gaze.

"Y-Your grace! The shoe of the princess broke so I'm helping her to her room to rest." You can feel how rigid every muscle in the knight's body becomes after meeting the gaze of his master. You're fearful to ask but: can this be any worse?!

"I'll take her, hand over the princess Jeongguk." No! This is way worse! You don't want to let go of Jeongguk but a crowd already gathered around you it would look bad if you refuse since you're supposed to be in love with the prince.

"It was just a tiny fall your highness I'm f-fine." Everyone is looking at you. Without thinking you bury your red face into the shoulder of the crown prince once he receives you from Jeongguk.

"Can we go, please? I don't like everyone looking at us-" You lower your voice so only he can hear you and your eyes meet for a split second before you wrap your arms around him tighter. You can't believe you're at the mercy of the villain. You're really doomed.

"Return to your duties if you don't want to get fired." You know he's talking to the servants but a shiver runs down your spine all the same from his cold tone. This is what the real Taehyung is like. The Y/N in the novel doesn't witness it until way later and by the time she realises his true nature, it becomes her downfall. Will you be able to prevent your own death?

You're uncertain but you let the rhythmic footsteps of Taehyung carry you soothe your wildly beating heart.

"I can walk on my own. I'm really fine y-." "You expressed your distaste for using titles before between us but you've been overly polite today. You've been avoiding me too. What do you seek with this sudden change of heart? Think I will fall for you if you try to play hard to get?" Your chin is dragged down the floor behind you. He always kept his composure around her in the past. Let her ignorance be the downfall of her so why he's questioning her so soon?

"That's not it." Your arms loosen around his neck simply trying to get as far as possible from him in spite of your current position.

"I just realised how annoying I must have been with my persistence so I decided to give your highness some space and think deeply about my actions." That's right! This way you can avoid him without being weird and maybe he will change his perception of you a little. The first step you have to take is to be more friendly with the prince but he has his guard high up because of the previous Y/N's actions so you need to work on that before anything else!

The way he narrows his eyes at you makes you believe that he doesn't buy your words at all but has nothing else left to say. Good because you don't think you can come up with any more.

He silently takes you the rest of the way to your room and you breath a sigh of relief when he leaves like that. You bury your hands into your palm as you remember the warmth of his body so close to you. He smelled so nice too. You curse yourself for thinking that it's really not the time to think about how handsome he was up close.

Thankfully the doctor said that your ankle is fine just a bit swollen from the unfortunate angle of your fall. You remained inside your room for two days to rest and to plan what to do next. It seems like your little chat with Taehyung turned out to be effective as he didn't even care enough to see how you were doing. Yoongi is the only one who frequented your room regularly and bought you the books you wanted. He found your interests unusual but shrugged them off quickly. He really is a good brother to you and you don't want him to die either. You will have to work hard to keep everything peaceful for a long time.

"How's your ankle?" You take the book carefully from him with a smile.

"I'm perfectly fine! See." You rotate your ankle in every direction to prove your point but it doesn't seem to ease the tension from his face. There are clear signs that he hasn't gotten any sleep lately. He's been probably busy due to the crown prince's birthday ball. You noticed how lively things are outside even though you're momentarily confined in your own room for the last couple of days, everyone is running about making sure they can finish their errands before the weekends. You overheard some of the maids talking about prince Taehyung's upcoming birthday and that the guest list is full of noble women who will try to win him over to become the crown princess.

Their gossip gave you a good idea though how can you become closer to Taehyung. It might even work in your favour.

"What are you laughing about under your nose?" Yoongi pokes your forehead to get your feet back on the ground and your head out of the clouds. It seems like lately that you've been thinking too hard about something that he can't quite grasp. He won't admit it but this change in your behaviour is welcomed as you're easier to deal with without you making tantrums or babbling about Taehyung and which dress his highness would prefer. He didn't see you circling around Taehyung for a while either which is out of character for you.

"I want to write a letter to his highness later would you be so precious as to deliver it for me, my dear brother?" Your eyes are shining with mischievous mirth, now this would be a waste if you don't try to strike a deal with Taehyung.

"I was under the impression that you're no longer interested in him but I guess I was wrong." You catch the hand that caresses the top of your hair to glare at your brother.

"I don't like him like that anymore so you don't have to worry. I just want to live with my brother forever." You let go with a beaming smile as it makes a frown appear on his.

"What? You don't want to be with me?" Yoongi sighs as he couldn't say no to that pout of yours.

"Of course, I would like that. It's just I don't understand your suddenly changed behaviour lately. Are you sure you're alright?" Who would guess that he will be a cold-hearted minister in the eyes of many later on? He's really soft for his sister.

"I would appreciate it if everyone stopped asking me that. I'm fine so stop worrying."

You exchange a few more words before Yoongi has to go. You're worried about him, he's been pushing himself lately to attend to his duties but still makes the time to visit you.

You might as well offer your help later but for now, you have an important letter to write.

***

You choose today's dress carefully hoping to meet Taehyung. Yoongi delivered your letter but he didn't request a meeting with you yet which is concerning. You really thought that this plan might work on him. You're relieved to finally get out of your room though but there's still not much for you to do in the palace.

The library is full of military books which is not your preferred genre but better than nothing. You would give your arm for a romance novel right about now.

"This is so boring." You sigh with a book on your lap. You don't realise someone was watching you from the shadows until you hear his approaching footsteps. The book lands on the floor as you straighten your spine at the appearance of the crown prince himself. You observe him with curious eyes as he bends down and picks up the book for you. He angles it to be able to read the title. "The art of war."

"Your highness I assume you read my letter." You don't try to fool him with a fake smile as you know he wouldn't buy it so you just look at him as you normally would. You need to change your approach if you want him to consider your deal. You accept the book from his hands but you didn't expect him to sit so close to you. You scoot to the edge of the sofa to regain some space before you turn to him.

"I did." He's not going to help you at all huh? He will probably let you guide the conversation so he could make you uncomfortable by trying to figure out the right words to say.

"So-"

"What makes you think I will believe your words? How could I believe you're no longer interested in me when you've been following me around persisting to give you a chance all this time?" You inaudibly gulp from his threatening aura getting so close to you.

Taehyung forces you by grabbing your chin to look into his eyes even when his lips are just by a hair's breadth distance from each other he seems perfectly collected. Your back is pushed against the armrest whilst his chest is flush against yours from the proximity.

"Even if you don't believe me your highness I'm your best option." You won't let him make your complexion waver. That's what he wants. You just need to hold your ground against him to convince the prince.

"How so?" Taehyung acts like he's not affected by you at all but you know it can't be completely true. You're a beautiful woman even the crown prince needs to acknowledge this fact about you. You place your palms against his chest to gain some breathing space but you're not pushing him away as he expected.

"Last month someone put poison in your tea. I know who it was." Taehyung's eyebrows furrow in an agitated frown and his cold hand wraps around your delicate neck in a warning but you continue pushing forward.

"That person will attend your birthday party. I can tell you who it is then but I will need permission to use your garden so I can gather the evidence first." While you were talking calmly his thumb found your pulse point, he was checking for lies. The little spikes in your heartbeat would indicate you're not truthful. What a sly fox.

"If this is another scheme to win my heart you're more foolish than I thought." You grab his clothes before he could get up but it just made your bodies mould together even more as you pulled him in.

"I'm not doing this for your affection your highness. I need your help to save my brother." You let out a sigh of relief when he lets go of your neck. To your utter surprise, his fingers slide themselves into your hair from behind instead.

"What-?" Taehyung cuts you off with his lips firmly placed over yours. Successfully shutting you up. If it's possible his body presses into you more with his knees between your thighs shortening the length of your dress. One hand is intertwined in your hair guiding your face to fit your lips like puzzle pieces together whilst the unoccupied one held you by the waist. You couldn't press out words between his kisses even if you wanted to. After the initial surprise wore off you tried to push him away but your efforts were in vain as he's much stronger than you.

"Y-Your highness." It came out more as a whine if anything, calling him with such a lucid voice made the shade of pinks tint your cheeks as his kisses wandered down to your neck to get you a moment to breathe.

"They're watching. Do as I say." He whispers right next to your ear. You're still unsure why he needs to kiss you but you nod for now. "Open." Your eyes widen at the prince's shameless request. Is this what you think it is?! You're too shy to do what he told you so he puts a finger under your chin to open your mouth with force. His tongue slips into your open mouth with a satisfied hum that makes your heart almost jump out of its ribcage. You're unable to think with his mouth caressing yours his skilful tongue renders you speechless as he kisses you with the reckless abandon of a passion. He keeps you close with his mouth busy exploring yours until he's seemingly satisfied with the show he put on and withdraws licking his lips to chase your taste.

"I- You-. You're shameless." You turn around the moment he lets you go. You're too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

"No one should hear what we've been talking about. Even walls have ears here princess." You yelp when Taehyung puts his lips against the shell of your ears. No one is looking at you now but he quite enjoyed your reactions. He turns you around in his arms to steal another kiss full of tongue just for his amusement this time.

You're still trying to push him away but he's relentless in claiming your mouth. You're getting dizzy once he finally lets you go and you're afraid your legs will give out.

"See you at the ball princess. I'll send a dress for you to wear so make sure you're dolled up. You can't put the future king in shame, can you?" Even after he left you couldn't comprehend what just happened. What the fuck?! This was not in the original novel at all!

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts #bts smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #bts royalty au #bts series

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btsmosphere · 1 year

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Trade my Life | KSJ

~summary: once, you were just two children giggling in the corner of the dojang, trading equally in punches and hugs, everything a game. but that was long ago, and now that man stands day after day outside the door which separates your two worlds. is the throne really worth leaving the barrier unbroken? ~pairing: bodyguard!seokjin x royalty!reader ~word count: 2.3k ~genre: angst, fluff, action, historical au, childhood friends to lovers, secret/forbidden love ~rating: nc17 ~warnings: non-sexual nudity, non-sexual intimacy, nothing explicit, jin calls the reader ‘princess’ but she literally is so note: the next part may well have other warnings relating to violence/fighting; this chapter only contains sparring in training

~a/n: welcome to my contribution for the catch of the century collab to celebrate our lovely Jin’s birthday!! how I miss himm already.. if you also do, you can check out the other amazing works in this collab, all featuring jin getting up to some sporty shenanigans! I’ve been sick lately and haven’t quite managed to write everything I had in mind. while this part of the story can be read as a standalone, it will also be part 1 of 2 for Trade my Life - there is more action planned on the way!! let me know if you want to see more/want to be tagged in the next part! lastly, if you know anything about taekwondo, you know more than me!! I consulted with some friends and our good buddy the internet to write this, and didn’t want to get too technical. but don’t judge me too much if it’s all wrong🤣 enjoy the story and shoot a comment my way if you do, it always means a lot💜

Sitting silently on your stool, your eyes followed the palace woman out of the door. She paused in the doorway, bowing to the guard on duty before turning to slide it closed, leaving you alone. Her eyes remained dipped, not meeting yours.

A moment passed, her footsteps retreating.

She had just helped remove your hair from its low knot, the pins now laid out below your mirror stand. Little did she know as she reverently brushed out your strands, you had no intention of keeping them so tidy.

With a sigh, you eyed the doorway, the silhouette of your guard still visible through the lattice.

Pressing your hands to your knees, you stood swiftly, without a noise. You had seen to it that you had been seen in your night clothes, and now you padded across to the bed, bent to extinguish the lights.

The room dimming, only a small candle at your bedside remained.

Instead of slipping under your covers, you simply bent to retrieve it, taking care not to jostle the small flame as you trod steadily back across the space.

Back at the dresser, you slid a drawer open, fishing out a simple leather tie. Pulling your hair back, you fastened it at the nape of your neck without needing to check in the small mirror.

Next, to the wardrobe. Quietly pulling it open, you ignored the rich colours and silk of your hanboks, pushing them aside while your fingers search with practised ease in the near darkness only stopping when they reach the slight bump in the wood.

Pressing down, you let the secret compartment unlock and open under your touch.

Set into the base, concealed well, was a small well. Of all the secret things you could have stashed there, the sole thing taking up the space is a neatly folded white garment. Hands falling on the cloth at last, you pull it out and shake it open.

Your dobok.

This may not be the kind of possession one would expect a princess to treasure so dearly as you did. But as you pulled it on, you feel yourself begin to relax, body filling with a confident anticipation.

All that was left was to wait. Hopefully it wouldn’t be long; Jin was never late.

Blowing out the candle, you crept back over to your bed and sat. You could hardly keep yourself from the edge, but forced yourself to sit straight and breathe, willing patience into your restless body.

Before too long, there was movement. It wasn’t loud, not in the least, but among the stuffy silence, unbudging as ever in the castle at night, you caught it clearly enough.

The guards were changing.

Your door muffled the mumbling of pleasantries and soft footfall, and the vague sounds soon ceased. In the room lit only by waning moonlight, you practically held your breath. Waiting the necessary time, though it was time you hated to waste simply sitting, you finally rose to your feet and moved back across the room.

As each night, you reminded yourself of the precautions. If it was someone else, you would simply ask for a drink and retire.

Luckily, tonight did not bring such disappointment. On easing the door open, you were greeted with the profile of the face you had longed to see since sunrise. His slender face, calm but eyes joyous as he turned towards you.

You smiled at last, breathing out deeply.

“Jin.”

He wore a small smile, but still bowed deeply to you.

You rolled your eyes.

“Just come inside.”

“How very forward of you, your grace.”

You fought off the urge to laugh, instead shutting the door a little too forcefully and giving him an unamused look. Of course, your hard stare did nothing to discourage him: in fact, he practically grinned as he turned away from you.

With a huff, you walked after him

“I have a name, you idiot,” you swatted at his head as he removed his gat, “when we’re in here you can use it, at least.”

“As you wish.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice before he turned around. He set his gat on the dresser and faced you as he unclasped the Sai knives where they where sheathed to his belt. At last his eyes were back on you, holding a strip of fabric taught between his hands and just under his eyeline.

“Are you ready, Y/N?”

Finally, you gave a warm smile.

Stepping to close the space, you held your hand palm-up for him to begin. The moment the cloth touched your skin, Jin’s practised fingers wrapping it securely, but not suffocating around your thumb and wrist, the tension from sneaking around began to bleed from you.

He gently turned your hand over with a brush of his own fingers, now passing the fabric over your knuckles. It was the best way to train without ever showing a sign of it.

Letting go, Jin moved to your next hand. With the wrappings, your focus zeroed, the sensation preparing you for the next. Your excitement at spending the next few hours with Jin, pushing yourself and no doubt falling into bed satisfied and spent, fizzled into a concentrated spark.

Jin clapped his palms around your wrapped hands, looking down at you with an indulgent smile of his own.

“Show me what you’ve got tonight, princess.”

You tried not to be disappointed when he stepped away, leaving the short distance your spar would start with. His distance at least aided your focus, and you drew yourself up taller, rolling out your shoulders.

As he implied, he waited for you to make the first move, a punch which he easily blocked, almost smiling.

That was okay, the two of you were just warming up. And you hadn’t come this far without a shred of friendship, you knew he respected you.

Hopping backwards, just out of his reach, you waited with your weight light on your feet, ready to react. You read his movements as he pounced with a side kick, and met him with one of your own, blocking him and bringing a hand up for good measure.

You had no need to shove him off; he darted backwards, slightly circling. You fell into the orbit as well. Already, the blood was rushing to his face, and you knew yours must be the same. It certainly felt like it was powering through your veins, loosening your muscles.

Continuing, you let the rush carry you with instincts, eyes well trained by now to analyse Seokjin’s movements, to spot openings and threats.

A kick for a kick, often retreating again, forever dancing on your toes. At his next however, you felt ready to launch another.

As he fell back, you followed, a turning kick to his stomach which of course he easily withstood and blocked. But your momentum was already shifting, and you span with another kick, foot coming level with his head-

He moved from its path, but you could go no further. His rough hand caught your waist, fisting in the fabric and trapping you against him. A punch completed your planned attack, and he caught it in his hand, stopping your fist at his heart.

Though you had not been aiming to throw any serious force and risk hurting each other, you still scuffled against him from the swift movements. You balanced yourself against his chest, then finally froze.

Grinning down at you, he lingered in the hold for a moment before dropping his arms.

“Very good,” he appraised.

You, too, darted back with a small smile, but soon schooled it from your face.

Falling into your familiar rhythm, you read Jin’s movements and responded in kind. You had built this up since you were half your height, back in the days when he was smaller than you.

This had become a ritual for you, one of the few things that stayed the same. While now, he was taller, and there were less feet in the wrong places, flooring or winding each other and leaving you giggling and red on the floor, it was yours.

He would step back, drawing his elbow back and you would strike his hand where it had placed the target on his hip. Forwards, and you hopped back, precisely kicking lower. Next was higher, and quicker, higher still. You hit his palm beside his neck, and he didn’t even flinch away, eyes steady as they analysed your performance.

Falling back, you stayed on your toes, arms loose and ready for the next.

And so it continued. The focus your mind settled into was more grounding than anything else in your day. Your reading never as calming, calligraphy never so precise.

It was deep into the night when you rested once more, your bodies buzzing with exertion but more content than ever. A sheen of sweat had coated you, and you rid yourself of the dobok.

Your chambers opened into an inner courtyard, where you kept a small bucket below your window. No other lights were lit when you pulled open the shutter, the warm night air still cool against your heated skin.

Bending to wring out your dobok in the water, you heard Jin quietly returning his knives to his belt, only a gentle clatter reaching your ears. Then, steps, and as you straightened up to drape the garments on the ledge, you felt fabric against the bare skin of your back.

Jin pressed closer, his breath warming your neck. His clothed chest brushed your shoulder again as he reached over your shoulder for something just beside the window.

Reverent hands lifted your tail of hair, a cloth meeting your skin a breath later.

Fighting, and in training, Jin was all sharp eyes and sharper fists, one of the swiftest guards. That was why he was allowed to guard the princess’ quarters, after all. But in between, he was always so slow, savouring the time you both knew would be taken away with the sun.

The soft cloth dragged across your neck, and you gasped as it was replaced by softer lips. One hand continued the cloth’s path down your arm, the other carelessly releasing your hair from its tie, where it fell comfortably against your now-clean skin.

But Jin was paying most attention to your neck, your throat, his tantalising kisses treading a blazing path to your jaw. Your head was thrown back, inviting him.

Finally, you turned your head to meet his mouth, a lazy smile shared between the two of you only by feel. You spun in his arms, and he welcomed you, circling your waist.

Somewhere the kisses lapsed, easy silence engulfing you as Jin finished wiping you down. You were cooling down by now, but felt all kinds of warm inside as you leaned against your ledge, watching him drop the cloth and plop one more kiss onto your thigh.

After a shared smile, he climbed to his feet, now standing over you. Fingertips trailed your waist, and he leaned down for one last kiss.

There was no urgency, no what next. Just the long, slow movement, of him against you.

He ran a hand down your tresses as he stepped away, letting you close the shutter. You threw your drying dobok on the headboard, where you could quickly remove it next morning before your lady opened the bedcurtains.

Once in your bedclothes again, you followed Jin to the door. You had no intention of going to sleep while he still had his shift.

But you had to accept that this was your life now. The door closed and you sat with your back against it, knowing Jin stood just the other side. You murmured the odd tease through the door, trying to ignore the wooden barrier that kept apart any playful touches or glimpse of a smile.

You fell asleep to thoughts of how it used to be. Dreams where the door fell away, dissolved, and you were two children again, and you were bunched in the middle of the class with the rest of them, only the hair curled tightly at the nape of your neck indicating your difference from the boys with close-cropped locks.

You had been humoured, then. Anything to get the princess to let off some energy, give the nannies a break and hopefully you might focus on the necessary studies for the rest of the day.

Back before the reigns had tightened until they were practically choking you, you felt almost free. Hounded back home the same as the other small children, only yours was to the palace quarters. Mother reading to you but someone else tugging your hair into order.

Even humoured you when you shrieked about Jin, tried to demonstrate what the kwanjang had taught you that day (while priceless ceramics were hastily removed from the path of your flailing feet).

And it had always been Jin. The boy that never laughed at you for being a girl. Of course, he laughed at you for falling over and for getting dirt on your face and never knowing how to tie your hair if it fell out.

And you laughed right back.

You couldn’t even remember how you became partners, and friends just as quickly. It was like it had always been. The two of you whispered when you should have been listening, you bickered and tried to show off, then apologised again and again when you knocked the other down wrong. All it took to soothe bruises was a secret trip to the kitchens.

It had changed. Gradually, but it had. You watched Seokjin grow, while your time was shut indoors more and more. You saw him don the red robes of guards, proud and capable.

And you decided you wanted the same.

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bangtanloverboys · 2 years

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no masters or kings // myg

summary - the high prince of lun was an enigma to you, consistenly making a fool of himself in society, earning the nickname ‘the foolish prince.’ as his personal valet, you knew he was anything but. you questioned him time and time again, asking him why he behaved so. yoongi would respond plainly, but you failed to see the true answer hidden behind his eyes

pairing - prince!yoongi x manservant!reader

genre - fluff, minor angst; royalty au

word count - 8.6k

warnings - historical inaccuracies, reader is oblivious to yoongi’s flirtations, kissing, implied homophobia, implied sex, minor character death, mourning, history would say they were very good friends

author’s note - i wanted this to be outduring pride month but unfortunately i couldn’t meet that deadline. but it’s finally here! i hope you enjoy! also this is a spin off of until i see you again. it’s not necessary that you read it to get context of it, but i do suggest it!

For generations, your family has worked in the castle for the royal family of Lun. Long before you started working there, it was implemented into your brain to never, under any circumstance talk to or look at the High Family. They were the keepers of the kingdom, and as nothing but a lowly servant, you were not worthy of meeting their gaze. Your family though worked in the kitchens, far from all the royal chambers. It was unlikely you’d ever meet them. But that raised one flaw: you didn’t know what they looked like. So when the day you quite literally ran into the High Prince, you had no idea who he was

It happened when you were fourteen. You’d been carrying two chicken cages towards the kitchen when from behind, a boy, probably a little over than you, ran into you, causing you to drop the cages and the chickens springing free. You glowered at him, so annoyed with what he’d done, that you failed to notice the clothes he wore, the finest silks covered with chicken feathers.

“God, what are you stupid!? Watch where you’re going-!” The look of shock on his face as you cursed at him did not register until one of the butlers came up behind you and slammed a gloved hand over your mouth.

“Terribly sorry, Your Highness,” the man apologized for you as he began pulling you away. Your eyes widened as you realized who exactly you were shouting at. He was either going to have your head or be sacked, but not after the butler beat you half to death because of your brash action. “Allow me to punish the boy for your sake.”

“No.” He held up his hand, immediately ceasing the butler’s actions. “It was my fault, I deserved it.” The prince admitted, his eyes not once ever leaving you. “I apologize, I did not look where I was going. Allow me to help you catch the chickens.”

Both you and the butler stared at the prince in bewilderment (you more so on the fact he was a prince and he also apologized, but also the fact he was offering to help). But the butler told him not to, saying you would do it and he should carry on with his day. Prince Yoongi took another careful look at you again, before asking for your name.

“Y/N, Your Highness,” you said with a bow of your head.

“Y/N,” he repeated the name, a smile playing on his lips. “Again, I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful in the future.”

You stared at him in silence as he walked back towards the palace, still trying to wrap your mind around what had just happened. However you couldn’t think much longer on it as the older man smacked you upside the head, telling you to catch the chickens before storming off elsewhere. You thought that would’ve been the last you’d ever see of the High Prince, but you were wrong.

The very next morning, you were summoned by the Head Housekeeper, saying that Prince Yoongi had personally asked for you to work under him now as his valet.

At first it was hard to adjust to the sudden and drastic change, going from wearing dirty rags to a fitted suit that had been provided for you. You were even given a room in the servants quarters (your family had been thrilled about that, saying you were moving up in the world).

Then there was the prince himself. You thought working for him would’ve been vigorous or challenging, but Yoongi was anything but. Not once did he ever scold you, hit you, or tell you off. If you were unsure what exactly he meant, which happened an awful lot in the beginning, he would explain it to you. He was kind, unimaginably so. Part of you couldn’t believe a man could be so nice, especially to a servant. Yet here he was.

As the years flew by, the two of you became somewhat friends. The prince being only a year older than you and being around each other for hours at a time, you grew surprisingly close. He would ask you questions about your life, your family, and would listen intently to your answers. The prince would even remember and check in whenever you mentioned something wrong in your family. Never before had anyone paid such close attention to you before.

Normally, one wouldn’t call such kindness strange. But he was royalty. The heir to the Lun throne. One would’ve expected him to be ruthless and strong, uncaring of mere servants’ lives like his father and his father before him. Yet here he was, kind as ever.

However, it wasn’t until the prince had turned twenty-one had you begun to notice more peculiar habits. For you see, after Yoongi’s birthday, his parents grew a bit more impatient to have him marry, so every social season, they’d send him off to attend some ball every other night to try and meet with all the eligible young ladies of society. It shouldn’t be that hard for him to find a wife, especially considering his good looks and status as High Prince. But year after year, he would return with no lady in mind.

The King and Queen would send him across the kingdoms, to different family members and other royal households for him to find a suitable wife. Being his personal servant, you went with him on those occasions, sometimes even working the parties. Each time without fail, you’d see him either purposefully avoiding the ladies or self-sabotaging himself (‘tripping’ over himself and spilling champagne down a young girl’s dress, stepping on the toes of another when he had to dance, sneezing uncontrollably to get them to back away).

“Sir, I know this isn’t my place to say but. . . why do you do that?” You found yourself asking him one night after a ball, helping him out of his clothing.

“Do what?”

“Sneeze, trip over yourself, pretend to be a terrible dancer,” you listed off. “I’ve seen you dance before, you’re incredible. The king and queen will be furious with you if you return home without a fianceé, again.”

Yoongi smiled at your words, as if you had just made a joke the two of you shared, only you were left out of it. “Y/N, have you ever considered that maybe I don’t want a wife?”

His words had you frowning, “No, Your Highness. But your parents-”

“Can’t force me to get married,” he cut you off. “Even if they tried to arrange something, the gossip around me won’t stop them coming, but it would at least make them stop and think.” And with that, he went to bed.

That was five years ago now, and still the High Prince remained unwed. Since then his parents had all but given up on trying to find a match for their son; but that didn’t stop any of the young ladies from trying to woo him. Time and time again, you’d ask why he would behave as so. Each time he would always look at you, an unreadable glimmer in his eyes as he smiled at you, telling you again that he did not want a wife.

One day, whilst you were polishing the prince’s boots, a knock was at the door. Not looking up from his book, Yoongi called for them to enter and a dark haired servant peaked his head into the room.

“Your Highness, the king wishes to see you in his chambers.”

With a sigh, Yoongi shut his book, placing it on the table. “I’ll be back in a moment,” he said to you as he followed the manservant out of his room and down the hall. That was another strange thing the prince had always done, he would always excuse himself from you or tell you when to return. At first you assumed that was just a royal thing, but once you started to work more around them you realized it wasn’t that.

Boots all polished and returned to its rightful place, you began to pick up and reorganize Yoongi’s room. While he was a fairly neat person, even a prince managed to make a mess of his room from time to time. You were tossing his dirty laundry into a sack when he returned, slamming his door shut. Cautiously, you looked over to the prince over your shoulder, who was pacing back and forth in the entry of his room.

“Highness? Are you alright-?”

“My father, he’s. . .” Yoongi paused for a moment, trying to gather his words. “He’s sending me away for the season. Probably another attempt to find me married,” he chuckled humorously.

You nodded slowly at his words, but the explanation didn’t ease the growing tension in the room.

“What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” You frowned as you tighten your grip on the sack.

“My father and his. . . insistence for me to marry. For me to have a wife. What would you do if your father was like that?” Yoongi clarified, looking directly into your eyes. It always felt weird when he met your gaze, those dark eyes looking into yours, stirring up something warm deep in your chest.

“I wouldn’t know,” you answered honestly. “My father doesn’t care for me to marry. Besides, I’m too busy looking after you.” You added on, light heartedly. The prince’s lips twitched for a moment at your words. “So we’re leaving for the upcoming social season?”

“Unfortunately so,” Yoongi huffed. “You’d think my father would’ve caught enough hints by now that no woman in the seven kingdoms would think to marry me, but he still persists.”

“You don’t think you’ll ever find a woman you’d want to marry?” You asked as you shouldered the sack, ready to drop it off with the laundry maids. “Surely you’d want to marry at some point, Your Highness.”

There was that glimmer again, in his eyes. Normally it gives off a teasing aura, a little mischievous when he told you time and time again he didn’t want a wife. This time it lacked those qualities. Instead looking sad and pained at your words. You swallowed thickly as you suddenly felt strange as the prince looked at you with such emotion.

“I don’t want a wife. Not now, nor ever.”

You left the prince to his own devices after that, a strange fluttering sensation growing in your stomach.

The following morning, you rushed back to his chambers though, reading his clothes and his things for the trip. This year, the king was sending Yoongi off to some southern kingdom you failed to catch the name of. You packed away the prince’s things; his clothes, books, and other necessities you’d gotten used to packing over the years. It took you by surprise at how quiet Yoongi was though, normally while you packed his things, he lamented to you over how boring it was going to be and thought up new ways to keep the new and desperate mothers away from him. No, this time around, he was quiet. His eyes never left you as you packed his things. You knew this because you could feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck, but anytime you turned to look, Yoongi’s eyes were elsewhere.

Before the morning was over, Yoongi’s carriage was off, you on a horse following beside it. It would take a few days to reach the southern kingdom, and it was by order of the king that you reach it on time (no matter how much Yoongi protested). When you first started accompanying Yoongi at these far away balls, you hated traveling. You barely left the citadel as a child, so to see new towns and countries was nerve wracking. But after a while, you had grown used to the sore bottom of riding the horse, or stale bread served at inns. You kept note of anything interesting or foregin that you’d never seen before, wanting to account the story back to your family at home.

By the time you’d arrived at the capital of the southern kingdom it was late evening, meaning you wouldn’t be able to sleep until everything for Yoongi was set up in his rooms. Unfortunately that meant it would be a while until you’d have a meal to yourself, or sleep for that matter.

You followed the head butler escorted you and a few other servants up towards the rooms where the prince would be staying. It was a lavish room, truly. Beautiful patterns carpets layered the floor, you barely had enough time to count them as your attention was drawn to other parts of the room. Paintings of oceanscapes and sea shores lined the walls, just above the large bed. And large open windows, giving a perfect view of the far off sea.

The butler said that the servants quarters were down by the kitchens and to head there once you’d finished unloading Prince Yoongi’s things. With a sigh, you began unpacking the trunks full of the prince’s silken clothes and books he had insisted on bringing with. It wasn’t until after sundown did Yoongi arrive at his chambers.

“What are you still doing here?” He frowned as you placed one of the last of his clothes in the wardrobe.

“Unpacking, Your Highness. You took a lot of things with you.”

“I suppose that is my faut,” he chuckled humorlessly. “But it’s late, have you eaten yet?”

You opened your mouth to tell him you did, but your stomach betrayed you, growling loudly. You flushed in embarrassment as the prince just smiled at you.

“Go eat something, Y/N. I’ll be fine.”

“But Highness, you need to get ready for bed-”

“And I’m capable enough to do that on my own,” Yoongi countered, meeting your eyes. There was a small smile playing on his lips as he spoke, it was an expression you’ve sworn you’ve seen on his face before but it felt as if you were seeing it for the first time. “You’re excused. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You blinked at him, trying your best to ignore the strange tingling sensation in your stomach. “T-Thank you, Your Highness.” You gave a bow as you made your way out of his room.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Dismissed, you made your way over towards the kitchens, grabbing a few morsels of bread and cheese before making your way towards the room you’d be staying in. One thing about going to all these cities with the prince always meant new and uncomfortable beds. The extra rooms in the servants quarters for some reason always had extra thin mattresses, you always fell asleep on them no problem, but you always awoke to a new kink in your neck.

In your temporary chamber, you sat down on the bed, eating up your poor excuse of supper, thinking over what events Yoongi might be pulled into this social season. One ball you knew was coming up was going to be at the conservatory, held by a nearby viscountess. Knowing the prince, there was no doubt he would start sneezing, blaming it on the blooming flowers.

As a servant, you could never attend them as a guest, only you’d work the balls, even then they would be dreadfully boring watching everyone dance. But Yoongi was your only solace, watching him make a fool of himself over and over again. You’d hear whispering from the scandalized mamas and other eligible young ladies of the city, remarking how such a handsome man could be such an oaf. It took all your willpower not to laugh at the gossip.

You laid down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, your mind not drifting away from Yoongi. Part of you couldn’t wait to see it, but at the same time, you still failed to understand him. His excuse of not wanting to marry never made sense. It was always ‘I do not want a wife’. That was his phrasing. Not that he didn’t want to marry, but not a wife. It didn’t make sense, the only option for marriage for him was a wife. Then there was the way he looked at you while he said it. How his dark eyes bored into yours, staring at you for what felt like hours, but only a few mere moments before he looked away, disappointed. It made you think there was some ulterior message behind it, one you wish you could understand.

You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of thoughts of the prince. It wasn’t your business as to why he behaved like he did. But as your eyes fell shut, your dreams were filled with nothing but Yoongi’s dark stare.

The next day, you were basically Yoongi’s shadow all day as he attended breakfast and wandered around the castle grounds, familiarizing himself with the gilded halls. Already you were hearing gossip from lady’s maids and other staff about him, apparently society had been dubbing him The Foolish Prince. If it bothered Yoongi, he didn’t let it show, keeping his head held high as he went over the many formal greetings as visiting royalty.

There was one place Yoongi never ever failed to find, no matter wherever they stayed was the library. He would spend hours in there, finding all the books he hadn’t read yet, piling them up in his arms, hoarding them all to himself as he read the day away.

“Y/N,” he called out your name as you wandered away from him, marveling at the dozens of books that lined the shelves.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“Come here, I’d like to show you something.”

Retracing your steps, you came back to where Yoongi had seated himself, in his hand a book labeled Metamorphoses, the title not ringing a bell. Many times Yoongi had set aside a couple books for you, wanting your opinion or your thoughts, but you rarely had time to actually sit down and read them.

“You know the flower hyacinth?”

You nodded, having seen the flower a multitude of different times in palace gardens.

“According to the Greeks, the flower came about from Apollo mourning his lover, turning the spilled blood into its petals,” Yoongi said, paraphrasing the mythos.

“Ah, how kind of him to remember her like that.”

“Him.”

You frowned. “I beg your pardon, Your Highness?”

“Hyacinthus was a man.” His eyes did not leave you as he explained further, “The Ancient Greeks were. . . more open, so to speak. So their gods having male lovers was not out of sorts for them.”

“Oh,” was all you could say. You were not very well educated in ancient philosophies and civilizations, so you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed by the revelation, the tips of your ears burning hotly. The intensity of his stare didn’t help either, as if he was searching for something in your eyes. But you didn’t know what.

In the blink of an eye, he looked away from you, a sigh on his lips. “That is all, Y/N. I just thought you might like to learn something new, that’s all.”

“Well, thank you, Your Highness.” You bowed your head. “It was. . .” You couldn’t think of a word to describe it. Eye opening? Interesting? Scrunching your nose, you backtracked. “Thank you.”

The prince gave you a flat smile, not reaching his eyes. “You’re welcome, Y/N.”

Whatever happened that afternoon, Yoongi did not bring it up again. And with the Conservatory Ball in a matter of days, any and all servants were recruited to help ready the event, so you weren’t really able to see him unless he called for you. Which surprisingly, he did not. Often he would attempt to call you away, saying he needed help with something or other, pulling you away from your work. But for the past three days, he’s only ever summoned you for breakfast and supper, bringing you his meal and then bidding you goodbye. You tried not to let it distract you, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly hurt at his sudden distance.

“I’ll say, that Prince Yoongi fellow is an odd one.”

Hearing the prince’s name pulled you from your thoughts. Trying not to be too obvious, you turned into what gossip the maids were passing around now.

“All he does is hole himself up in the library or the gardens. Did you hear what he told Lady Jeong?” Another lady whispered.

“What?”

“So apparently the lady has been trying her damndest to get the prince to look her way, Lord knows why she wants to marry the Foolish Prince. But she asked if he could show her around the gardens, and he told her ‘if she’s lived here all her life, she should not need a guide to the gardens’”

You bit back a snicker, not wanting to give away your eavesdropping. Definitely sounded like something the prince would say.

“How did Lady Jeong react?”

“She couldn’t! She clammed up and walked away, poor girl.” The two maids shared a laugh. “Ah but honestly, I don’t know what anyone sees in attempting to woo the prince. He’s such an addle pate!”

“Ah Nabi, you forget. He’s a prince! People tend to look past such flaws when trying to find a husband.”

“Fair enough, and with that rumor going around, I wouldn’t be surprised if suddenly many ladies come back ‘round.”

“Rumor?” You turned to face them, internally cringing at you giving yourself up.

The two maids gave him a strange look. “The High King of Lun is reportedly ill, soon the prince will take the throne. And there’s many a lady here that would love to be queen.”

“Where did you hear this?”

She gave a vague shrug. “A couple ladies. One or two scandal sheets talked about it.” Then they walked away, leaving you stunned.

Was the king truly ill? Why did Yoongi not think to tell you? You found yourself spiraling, your body moving forward as you continued to do the work you were assigned. It wasn’t until hours later when the prince summoned you for his supper did you finally feel yourself begin to pull out of the fog. Tray of food in hand, you made your way up to his chambers.

Yoongi never ate meals with his hosts, preferring to eat in the solidarity of his rooms. His reasoning that the formality of it all was exhausting, conversing and trying to eat. Sure there would be times when he absolutely had to join his hosts, but if it wasn’t required, he’d be hiding away in his room.

At the servant’s entrance of his room, you knocked thrice before opening the door. Yoongi was sitting on a loveseat, his legs draped over the cushions as he read a novel. “Good evening, Your Highness,” you greeted.

“Set it over by the table, please.”

You nodded, following his instruction. As you set his place, you couldn't stop your eyes from wandering over to where Yoongi sat. He did not look as if he was worried for his ill father, no. But there was something about him that you couldn’t pull away from. Your gaze started at his downcast eyes, watching as they darted across the page, absorbing the book. Then the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips as he licked his thumb, turning to the next page in the novel. You’d always known the prince was handsome, having heard it whispered amongst ladies and maids combined, but it was only now were you actually registering how beautiful he was.

“Is something the matter, Y/N?” Yoongi’s eyes suddenly met yours.

The tips of your ears burned. “I- uh-” You dropped the silverware that was in your hands, clattering to the floor. You swore silently to yourself as you quickly scooped it up. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, my mind was. . . elsewhere.”

Shutting his book, Yoongi raised a brow at you. He stood up, walking over to you slowly. Your heartbeat was pulsing so loud in your ears you feared he would hear it if he got too close. Yoongi stopped a few feet before you, his eyes never leaving you. You averted your gaze to the floor, studying the details of his shoes.

“Look at me, Y/N.”

Meeting the prince’s eyes, you felt as if your entire body was shaking but you did not move a muscle. Again, there was that unreadable expression in his eyes. What was he searching for, you wondered. And why you? You’ve seen the way he looked at everyone, his mother, father, ladies of the court, and so many others. But he never looked at any of them the way he looked at you.

How long the two of you stood there, gazing at each other, you didn’t know. Only breaking away when Yoongi cleared his throat.

“You’re excused for the rest of the evening, Y/N. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Your Highness.”

Something changed that night with your relationship with the prince, you couldn’t make sense of it, but between the fluttering in your gut to Yoongi’s burning stare, it was obvious nothing would ever be the same again.

The night of the Conservatory Ball came around, and you were helping the prince into his attire for the evening. You felt like your hands were on fire as you touched him, only cooling when you finally pulled away from him. He was wearing a deep blue coat with silver epaulets dawning his shoulders, then a white cloak draped over his shoulder. He looked every bit a prince that he was.

Once the two of you split for the night, you made your way down towards the kitchens and food prep area, following in line with the other servants to get ready for the ball. But your mind was elsewhere, thinking of nothing but the prince. Sure, before any ball you would think of any sort of self-sabotaging stunt he might pull, but tonight was different. You thought of how he would look dancing with the other young ladies, about how he might go back on his own word to marry. The thoughts left your stomach churning and your vision green.

Shaking your mind to clear your head of Yoongi, you tried your best to focus on serving and nothing else. Walking alongside the edge of the crowds, allowing the men and women of the court to pick the small treats off your plate.

Your plan of zoning out worked almost perfectly until there was a loud crash coming from the otherside of the ballroom, followed by a series of gasps. The music came to a stop as everyone’s head snapped in that direction. There, at the center of everyone’s attention, was Yoongi hovering over a young lady. She held a hand to her forehead as Yoongi panickingly tried to keep her conscious.

“Can you believe it?!”

“Miss Hyun swooned and Prince Yoongi caught her!”

“She certainly has her heart set on him.”

Your eyes darted amongst the crowd as you listened in on their whispers, only to be drowned out by the sound of applause as the prince helped the girl, Miss Hyun, back to her feet.

“Why thank you for catching me, Your Highness.” You could barely hear her airy voice as she tried to meet the prince’s eye.

“Yes, please. Go sit down and drink something, don’t want another spell,” he advised as he passed her over to an older woman, presumably her mother. The scene over, the music resumed, but everyone continued to whisper amongst themselves about what they had all just witnessed.

With the attention no longer on Yoongi, you watched as his face turned into a slight scowl before he turned on his heel and walked out of the ballroom. Puzzled by his reaction, you turned to follow him. A few times you were stopped by other guests, picking off the remains of your tray. By the time you made it to the exit, your tray was empty. You hid the tray in a bush and followed Yoongi, not caring if the valet or some other guest saw and tried to reprimand you.

In the halls, you could see no trace of the prince. But for some reason, you knew where he was. The library. Your suspicions were confirmed as the door was skewed open, and a low light was emanating from the room. Pushing the door open further, you peaked your head in.

“Highness?”

It was quiet for a moment before you heard his voice. “Is that you, Y/N?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” you confirmed, not yet daring to enter the room.

“Come in. . . Please.”

You slid into the room, the door clicking shut behind you. Slowly, you went further into the library, the sounds of your footsteps echoing against the shelves. With each step, you felt your chest tighten, making it hard to breathe. Once you saw the prince, not even then did it let up, only squeezing tighter. In the low light of the candle, Yoongi was practically glowing, the silver of his coat catching in the light.

“Are you alright, Your Highness? That was. . . quite a scene.”

At your comment, his lips pulled into a sneer. “Yes it was. I simply needed some space, away from those bloodthirsty mamas.”

You failed to stifle a chuckle at his remark, replacing the sour look on his face with a warmer expression. “I’m sorry, Highness. I should. . . I should return.” You were preparing to turn back out of the library when Yoongi’s gloved hand wrapped around your wrist. You could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric, sucking the air from your lungs completely.

“Nonsense,” he said. “Stay, please. I would appreciate the company.”

“Okay, Your Highness.”

Yoongi inhaled a sharp breath, but smiled at your agreement. He released your wrist, leaving you mourning his touch. He stepped back, turning towards the bookshelves again. He pulled a book off the shelf, turning it over in his hands.

As you watched him, your mind sifted over towards the maids’ gossip. “Might I ask you something, Your Highness?”

Yoongi ceased his motions. You almost thought he had turned to stone had he not turned his head towards you. “Anything.”

“It’s about your father. I’ve heard rumors of him being ill and you’re to take the throne. . . Is it true?”

The prince squared his shoulders as a solemn look fell over his face. “They are true. My father is sick. Should he not recover, I am to be king.”

“I’m. . . sorry.”

“Please don’t be.”

You furrowed your brows together. “I beg your pardon?”

“You do not have to show condolences,” Yoongi explained, folding his hands behind him. “I know that my father is not the kindest man, so I do not expect you to be upset.”

You shook your head. “No, Highness. I am not offering my condolences, but my sympathy. It cannot be easy losing a father.”

Yoongi cast his eyes to the ground. “No. . . it is not.”

Shifting in your spot, you continued. “Is that why your father wanted you to join this season? To see you marry before he passes?”

He shrugged. “He more so wishes for grandchildren, to know the line is secure. It’s no matter though, it’s unlikely I’ll find a bride in time. And after that, it would be no matter.”

“Miss Hyun would beg to differ, you did catch her when she felt faint.”

The prince scoffed. “The nerve of these ladies, feigning a swoon-”

“It was pretend?”

Yoongi blinked at you. “Yes. . . it’s a tactic to try and entrap unsuspecting suitors. Do you not know?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never interacted with an interested woman before. I wouldn’t even know if she would be interested in the first place. Besides, all my time focuses on you, so it’s not even likely I have time to find a wife.”

The prince stared at you for a moment, before laughing to himself.

The reaction was puzzling. “Is something funny, Your Highness?”

“You cannot tell when a woman is interested?”

The tips of your ears burned in embarrassment as you shook your head. “I fail to understand how you find it humorous.”

Yoongi waved his hand as he ceased in his laughter. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to laugh but, I can’t help but find that. . . relieving of sorts?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been more confused in your life, rivaling the morning when you found out he asked you to be his personal servant. “How so. . ?”

Yoongi met your eyes and suddenly you felt like you could no longer breathe again. You stood there frozen as he slowly walked over towards you. He stopped just in front of you, his eyes flickering down to your hand. In all the years you’d known the prince and served him, he never once acted hesitantly, always certain in his actions. But now his fingers reached out tentatively, gloved hands enveloping your own.

“Do you know why I wanted you to be my valet all those years ago?” His voice was soft as he spoke.

Unable to trust your voice, you shook your head.

“Because when you cursed me out, I was taken aback. No one had ever dared to speak to me that way, and you could not leave my mind. For hours on end I was utterly consumed by the kitchen boy that dared to scold me. And I knew that I just. . . I had to have you around.” The prince’s fingers entangled themselves into yours. “I couldn’t understand why, but in time I grew to realize that I wanted nothing more than your attention. No other could occupy my mind as you had. For years, I’ve tried to drop hints, give way to my affection, to let you in. I thought you did not feel the same.” He paused as he took a shuddering breath, as if the mere thought was too much for him to bear. “So to hear you say you cannot tell when a woman is interested when I have, in fact, seen many a maid try to capture your attention, I can’t help but feel relief. But now my thoughts and feelings are out in the open, I can’t help but ask now if you feel at all the same?”

Yoongi met your eyes once again, and you could see the fear in his eyes. Expressing his true feelings. Feelings he held for you. The prince’s ever constant response of “I do not want a wife” echoed in your ears, finally made sense.

“You do not have to return them. If you so wish, I can pay you handsomely and you and your family can move far away from Lun, never to work again in your life. But I need you to know that I will never ever stop caring for you. My chest aches when you are near, every bit of my soul wants nothing but you.”

The whole world felt like it had frozen around you. The flame of the candle stopped flickering, the distant sound of the orchestra faded away into silence. All that was left in the world was the prince and you.

“I-I don’t know how to place my feelings,” you started, your eyes focusing on anything but the prince’s piercing gaze. “But all I do know is I feel that similar ache. I feel as if I cannot breathe when you are near sometimes. I did not know what you make of it but knowing you feel similar, it brings me. . . joy?”

Yoongi’s other hand came to cup your cheek. He leaned in, so close you could feel his breath fan across your lips. “Say it, please. Say you want me too.”

“Your Highness-”

“No. None of that. My name, call me my name, please Y/N. Grant me that.”

“Yoongi.” The name felt foreign on your tongue, but the way the prince reacted, groaning quietly as he held himself back from closing the gap. “I do. I want you too.”

And just like that, he leaned in, fully pressing his lips against yours. You could taste the champagne he had drank earlier as his lips danced with yours. Yoongi dropped your hand, wrapping it around your waist, pulling you in closer until there was no space between you, but still he wanted you closer. Unsure what to do with your hands, you clung onto his biceps, using that as your anchor to reality. That truly, this was happening.

It wasn’t until the two of you needed to breathe did you finally pull away from each other. Both of you panting, breaths mindling with each other as Yoongi refused to let you go.

“Stay by my side, forever. I do not think I can live without you,” Yoongi whispered.

“As you wish.” And you sealed the promise with a kiss.

From that moment forward, neither you nor Yoongi spent any time apart. He all but refused to allow anyone else to order you away from him. And for the most part it worked, the two of you were left alone and no one dared to try and say you were needed elsewhere. The two of you spent the days in the prince’s bed, your head on his lap as he read to you memoirs of far off countries and tales of fiction.

The only time you were away from one another was for balls. As visiting royalty, he was expected to always make an appearance, but never did he dance. He made his rounds about the room, complementing each and every young lady he was introduced to. A sick knot of jealousy twisted in your gut with each kiss he’d press against a delicately gloved hand, but it would easily melt away as his gaze would always look to you as you stood in the far off part of the room, serving drinks and finger foods on a tray.

Finally when it was time to return home to Lun, it took every ounce of your concentration to give away your excitement. Yoongi, on the other hand, remained level headed, no doubt from all his time learning to become king. But you could see he was equally as excited to be leaving, judging from the small smile in his lips whenever he met your eyes. By the time you’d returned home to the palace, Yoongi all but pulled you along into his chambers, locking the door behind him.

“Another successful season, wouldn’t you say?” The prince sighed as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Successful?” You raised a brow.

“Yes. I successfully managed to avoid all the young and eligible debutantes of the southern kingdom. And I now have you.” He traced down the side of your face with a finger. “I would call that a success, would you not?”

“Well when you put it like that, Your Highness-”

Yoongi scoffed as he shut you up with a kiss. Slowly, you had become more adept at the action, learning with soft and slow touches what made a kiss good or bad. Taking careful steps, you lead the prince over towards the bed, until the back of his knees hit the side, sending you both tumbling down onto the mattress in a fit of giggles.

“I was a fool,” you sighed as your laughter calmed down.

“Whatever do you mean?” Yoongi frowned.

“That I did not catch on to your hints, that I did not realize my own feelings for you until as of late. Should I go on?” You laughed, listing off the reasons.

“Then we are a match made in heaven,” Yoongi said as he leaned in close. “The Foolish Prince and his Fool.”

With a roll of your eyes, you closed the gap, slotting your mouth over his. It was slow and lazy, but did not lack any of the passion you felt for one another. Yoongi licked at the seam of your lips, begging you to open, to which you happily obliged. You found your hands wandering beneath his shirts, undoing the buttons you had helped fasten earlier that day. You needed to feel his skin against yours, to hold him closer than you ever could’ve imagined. The prince followed your lead, stripping himself of his clothes, you followed after. Neither of you separated from one another until all either of you knew was the taste of each other’s skin.

You wish you could say the day after your first night with the prince was something out of a fairytale, waking up to the sun pouring through an open window as the bird sung you awake. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. A pounding at the door had both of you sitting up in bed, not even allowing a moment for you to admire your lover in the morning air.

“Highness! It is your father!” A voice shouted from the otherside.

You glanced over to Yoongi, whose face was emotionless as he scrambled into his clothes.

“I’ll be but a moment,” he said, sliding into his boots before running over to the door and down the hall.

You blinked once. Twice. Three times before finally pushing yourself out of bed. If someone was to walk into the prince’s chambers with your state of undress, surely people would talk. So quickly, you pulled on your clothes that were still scattered around the floor. As Yoongi’s valet, no one would think twice of you in his rooms, so you decided to remain in there until he returned. But unable to remain idle as you wait, you began to unpack his trunks from his time in the southern kingdom. Despite the prince having told you that you no longer have to continue to act as his servant in the privacy of his chambers, you simply could not keep still. Especially after such a rude awakening this morning.

An hour passed before Yoongi returned, his face solemn. Alarm bells were reigning off in your mind as you rushed over to him.

“Yoongi? Are you alright? What of your father?”

“He. . . he passed in the night. . .” His voice was barely above a whisper.

The air was sucked from your lungs. From all your time as Yoongi’s valet, you’ve been in the king’s presence dozens of times. Even though you’ve since learned of the king’s poor health, you did not think he would die so soon.

Yoongi’s eyes were staring off into the distance, looking far beyond you. “I’m to be king,” he said.

Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder, urging him to look at you. His head snapped in your direction, his eyes glassy as he held back tears. You wrapped your arms around your lover, pulling him into a hug. Yoongi was stiff at first, before melting into the embrace, burying his head in the crook of your neck. The two of you stood there for a moment, until you felt the collar of your shirt moisten against your skin, then you noticed the small shaking of Yoongi’s shoulders as he silently sobbed into your embrace. You did your best to soothe him, tracing invisible circles into his back until his body ceased trembling.

Slowly, Yoongi peeled himself off your body, his cheeks puffy and eyes red from crying. He met your gaze for a moment, opening his mouth to say something when there was another knock at the door.

Abruptly, Yoongi snapped his head in the direction of the door. “Yes?” He asked, his voice full of authority, as if he wasn’t sobbing a mere moment ago.

“Your H-Majesty, we need to begin the arrangements for your coronation. As well as your father’s funeral processes.” A meek voice responded on the other side of the door.

“Of course,” he said, quietly to himself. Yoongi looked back down to you, took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry. Thank you. I shall. . . I shall see you tonight?” His eyes were silently pleading with you, begging you to say yes.

“Of course, Yoongi.”

The following days, you rarely see the prince- no. The king. Yoongi was the king now. He was busy with his own coronation, especially after his father’s funeral. Not like there was much time for you to even see him anyways, having been occupied with packing up Yoongi’s things and bringing them to the King’s chambers, now his.

The King’s chambers were more of a small wing than a simple suite. Three large connecting rooms, all nearly double the size of Yoongi’s former chambers. You busied yourself fixing up the rooms, switching out books and paintings, clothes and furnishings.

The only time you were able to see each other was well after nightfall, when Yoongi excused his advisors away from him and you were free to slip in through the servants entrance. When he saw you, the young king wrapped you in his arms, refusing to let you go until you finally managed to break away.

“I can’t stand you being so far from me for so long,” Yoongi confessed as the two of you laid on the large bed that was in the center of the bedchamber, covered in dozens of feather pillows and silk sheets. “To see you in court with me, have you by my side.”

“Unfortunately, I hold no title, Your Majesty,” you reminded him. “I have no reason to be seen by your side in court,” you sighed, turning your head to meet his gaze.

There was an unreadable glimmer in his eyes. “But what if you did?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Yoongi shot up to his knees, turning to you on the bed. “What if you did hold a title? I am king, I could grant you that.”

You blinked up at him, trying to process his words. “Yoongi, I know nothing about holding a title. Or managing land, let alone polite society-”

“I could teach you! I could make you. . . Grand Duke. My closest advisor. You’ve served by my side for years, no one would think otherwise,” Yoongi explained, taking your hands in his. “If I had it my way, I would marry you and have you as my consort. But unfortunately, this is all I can offer you. I implore you to accept it.”

The air was all but sucked from your lungs as Yoongi pleaded his case. “You would marry me?” Was all you found yourself saying.

With a roll of his eyes, he sighed, squeezing your hands tightly. “I know no one can know the true extent of our relationship, but I need you by my side always, or I fear I may never know another’s embrace. Because you are all I want. If I cannot have you, I do not want any other. I love you, Y/N. You need not say it in return, but I want- no need you to know it.”

You stared at Yoongi, unable to move- unable to speak, watching him silently as he searched your eyes for any reaction. He loved you. However long he had felt such a way, you knew you felt it too. You were in love.

Before he could mistake your silence as rejection, you surged forward. Pulling your hands from his grasp, you held his head in your hands, fearing that if you let him go, he would dissipate, revealing this all to be but a dream. Yoongi was frozen before he leaned into you, kissing you back with so much fierce passion that heat spread throughout your body. Finally you release your hold on the king, who was smiling at you.

“I suppose that means you accept my offer, My Lord?”

The use of a title for you felt unfamiliar, but you smiled and nodded in return. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

The following days after his coronation, Yoongi put his plan into action. Already he was teaching you the ways of polite society, but as it turned out, after serving at so many balls and dinner parties, you already had a grasp of the basics. But learning the ways of a kingdom, Yoongi assured you that you had better input on how the commonwealth felt more than anyone else on the court.

You were outside the council chambers when Yoongi announced he was to raise your position to Grand Duke, his closest advisor. You nervously fiddled with the new clothes Yoongi had given you, rubbing your hands against the satin trousers. You flinched when the room broke out into arguments, shouting, and pleading with their new king to reconsider, but then the room went dead quiet. When you were beckoned into the council chambers, you noted that everyone at the table had a sour look on their face.

At Yoongi’s right hand was an empty chair, not as ornate as Yoongi’s but more decorated than the other council members and advisors’ chairs were. You sat down beside him, keeping your face stern and still as possible, not to give away any sign of weakness or doubt that the position of Grand Duke was yours and yours alone. Nothing could change the king’s mind about that.

There certainly was plenty of ruckus amongst the servants at your sudden promotion and entrance into society, but they said nothing (at least not to your face). Your things were moved from your quarters in the servants chambers up towards the Grand Duke’s suite. It was customary that the King’s chambers be connected to two other suites, the Queen’s and the Grand Duke’s, for these were the only people he would need access to at any point in the day. But despite gaining your own suite, it was left completely unlived in as Yoongi outright refused to sleep with you further than at an arm's distance.

For the first few mornings of sleeping beside him after your rise in station, you were the first to rise, unable to lose the habit of rising with the sun. But now there was no reason for it, you had no chores to do, no balls to help prepare for. Instead you used the time to watch the sunlight bleed through the heavy curtains, painting your lover in a beautiful golden light.

Unable to contain yourself, you pressed kissing along Yoongi’s shoulder and neck, rousing him from sleep as you peppered him with affection. Yoongi grumbled as he turned over in bed, facing you.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” you murmured against his skin.

“Mm, good morning, My Lord,” Yoongi hummed as he pulled you closer to him, your chest against his. “What time is it?”

“Just after sunrise,” you admitted as you kissed his cheek.

He let out a groan at your words. “You must drop that awful habit, I do not know how you managed to rise for so long.”

“Well I had you as motivation,” you smiled as he turned his head, allowing you to plant one final kiss upon his lips. “Besides we have much to do today, the prince and princess of Philos are visiting today. Isn’t he one of your oldest friends?”

“Bah.” Yoongi grabbed hold of you, swiftly flipping your positions so he now laid on top of you. “Seokjin won’t care. And besides, they won’t be here for hours. Meaning we have plenty of time to spend lounging about in bed,” he said as he pressed kisses along your neck.

“You’re insatiable!” You laughed, smiling up at him as he removed himself from your neck.

“Only for you, my love. Only for you.”

#btsghostie #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x male reader #bts x reader #prince yoongi #min yoongi x male reader #bts x male reader #bts prince au #prince yoongi x reader #bts royalty au

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daydreamindollie · 2 years

Text

THE PRINCE WITH THE UGLY HEART ⏤15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN : NEW BEGINNINGS

CHPT. SUM ; you and taehyung start living in the capital within the palace and start adjusting to palace life with your studies keeping the both of you busy but can your determination to do well be enough or will things prove too hard for you to cope?

G. ; fluff ; very slight angst if you squint ; king!jungkook ; queenintraining!reader ; littlemaster!taehyung ; youngduke!taehyung ; reader is very studious ; taehyung's sacrifice ; reader's guilt ; jungkook being a good king ; jungkook also being a bad king ; ladies in waiting appearance ; hoseok gets promoted to butler ; new future queen in the queens palace ; taehyung isn't a prince ; surprise visits

LENGTH ; 7.7k

A/N ; goodness, it's been such a long time, i'm so sorry my lovely dollies, i never anticipated taking such an extended hiatus on this story - a lot of things happened and it can never be boiled down to one primary reason but what's important is that im back! i intend to finish this series that is and has been such a big reflection on my journey in writing. i hope you darlings, enjoy the read, i'm sorry for the long wait x

PREV.

Entering the royal palace was surreal. There was such a flurry of movement surrounding you, it was hard to process everything all at once. At the very least, Taehyung and Jungkook stayed by your side through it all, they were able to ground you through the hurricane of movement.

“Call the royal tailor and seamstress to take the measurements of my lady and the little master so that they can be fitted for new garments as soon as possible,” Jungkook ordered the staff as soon as you were settled into a room that could be considered the size of a small house, “also, prepare 2 baths and leave us be until the tailor and seamstress have arrived,”

“As you wish, your highness,” with that all the staff dispersed to set about their designated tasks.

Finally, finally, you could breathe and hold your little brother close for comfort and a semblance of normalcy.

“I hope you aren’t too overwhelmed,” Jungkook sends you a look of sympathy, “I can understand how different this all must feel so please don’t hesitate to inform me whenever the two of you feel uncomfortable,”

“It’s okay, Hyung,” Taehyung speaks up in your lap, still cuddled up against you, “we’ll try our best, won’t we Noona?” he turns to gaze up at you with a smile that you reciprocate.

“Of course we will,” you lean down to nuzzle your nose against your little brothers before turning your full attention to Jungkook, “anything to be able to stay by your side, Jungkook,”

The smile that spreads across his lips has your heart stuttering in your chest. You hold such a deep love for him but having his handsome face smile so sweetly at you is dangerous, and so is the knowledge that he helped bring the war to an end and has done so many good things for the people of the kingdom since his reign as King.

How did you ever get so lucky?

If only you knew how much deeper in love Jungkook was with you. If he needed to start a war again and become known as a terrible tyrant of a king or need to sacrifice all the luxury and privilege he grew up with, he’d do so in a heartbeat if it meant being your love for forever and always. He was willing to do exactly that if his father hadn’t allowed him that week of freedom and accepted you as his future queen.

“How very lucky I am to have you both in my life,” Jungkook kneels down before you, takes your hand and touches his lips to your knuckles in a soft kiss.

“We’re lucky to have you too, Hyung!” Taehyung cheers and jumps on him with a shout of happiness.

“Taehyung!” you gasp as they go tumbling down but refrain from scolding either one when they burst into fits of giggles, instead you sigh and lean back with a content smile. Once they’ve collected themselves, Jungkook stands with Taehyung held up with one arm as he pulls you close with his spare hand.

“I deeply apologise for having to delay our wedding, my love,” Jungkook, crestfallen, hums softly as he kisses your temple in apology.

“It’s alright,” you bashfully reassure and move to press a gentle kiss onto his cheek, “I’ve waited 5 years already, I can be patient,”

Jungkook smiles and squeezes both you and Taehyung close, “I couldn’t have said it better myself. All of that time is worth finally having you at arm's reach like this,” he nestles his face into your hair and smiles at your sweet, floral scent, “it won’t be too long now…”

“I just hope-”

“None of that. I can’t have you doubting yourself when I know for sure that you’ll make an excellent queen, right Tae?” he holds your face as he stares at you lovingly.

“Yeah! Hyung’s right, Noona!”

“Really?” you timidly ask.

“Are you doubting the judgement of your King?” he teases as you laugh.

“And what if I am?~”

Jungkook hums thoughtfully for a moment before a proud grin overtakes his once pensive features, “Only someone worthy of being the future queen would dare challenge their King in this way,” Taehyung laughs at Jungkook’s playful mocking but you could only pout.

“Stopppp!” you whine but Jungkook laughs and seizes your lips in a loving kiss.

“Believe in yourself the way you believed in me when I was at my lowest,” you smile as your heart softens from his heartfelt words, “and if you aren’t there yet, I'll support you as best as I can until you reach that point,”

“Thank you, Jungkook,”

Not long after being bathed then measured and fitted for noble attire, you and Taehyung were met with a shocking discovery in the absence of Jungkook and the presence of his newly assigned Butler.

“This is…where?”

“This is the Queen’s palace, my lady, also known as the Diamond Palace,” the recently assigned butler, Hoseok, informs you. He had been so accommodating with helping to assign you ladies-in-waiting and tutors as well as a nanny, tutors and instructors for Taehyung to see after the week period set aside for you and your little brother to settle into palace life, a week that you were in the middle of currently, “would you like to know more?”

“Yes please, Hoseok,” you nod as Taehyung indulges in the many cakes and cookies laid out on the table before him with the occasional sip of his milk and honey. Nevertheless, he makes it a point to be turned towards the red-headed butler, ears perked and openly listening. Hoseok smiles at this, happy that the little master has such good manners, manners befitting a noble but displaying such better than most do.

“The Queen’s palace is separate from the main palace where court officials and members of the King’s personal and public council often visit and hold meetings. The main purpose of the Queen’s palace is to train future Queens and therefore holds a mark of every queen that once resided in it. In fact, the previous queen, his highness’ belated mother, designed and helped cultivate the North and south gardens herself,” your mouth drops as the realisation of how importance your current residence dawns on you, “there are two more separate palaces called the Sapphire and Morganite palace also known as the Prince and Princess Palace respectively. They are where the prince and princesses of the kingdom should reside,” at his explanation, you turn to Taehyung, who looks at you with his own questioning gaze. Sensing the query in the air, Hoseok continues, “the Prince and Princess Palace are reserved for yours and his highness’ future children, my lady, as the young master, Taehyung, is politically not a prince but instead a young Duke. This is because he has relations with a member of the royal family through marriage, as soon as you are wed to his majesty, young master Taehyung’s dukedom will be announced soon after. His highness, the King, has been signing the documentations and making the proper preparations for this so please don’t worry, my lady,”

“Oh my…”

“What’s a Duke, Noona?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, you’re still too young Tae,” you assure as you bite your lip and give Hoseok a look that he immediately bows to, expressing his cooperation. Taehyung will not be told the full implications of this until he is much older, you want him to continue living as a child for as long as possible.

Taehyung loved exploring the palace grounds and, although the palace staff adored him, he’s been keeping them on their toes. You were, at first, worried that a fair majority would antagonise you and your little brother for your humble background, however, they were nothing but friendly and welcoming to you both. Rumours between the palace maids made it clear to you that it’s all because of Jungkook emphasising that you were the reason for his change in demeanour prior to your arrival.

“I heard that he begged his highness, the previous king, to let him go and do whatever he wanted for a week, and the condition was that he would leave after completing an entire week’s worth of work,” one palace maid gossiped behind a tall, marble pillar.

“And then?”

“Now, I only heard this from a few people that work closely with the King but apparently, he also created a separate list of important things to do,”

“What else did he need to do? How could he even have the time to do more atop double the amount of work he already had to complete?”

“It was to spread the word that his highness was only able to become who he is today because of the future queen,”

“The commoner girl he brought back claiming is going to become his queen?”

“Yes yes!”

“Oh my goodness! She must be really special to be able to make him change so much, then!”

“We must treat her well for bettering his highness, I remember when he used to be so irrational and rude, now it’s almost unbelievable that he used to be that way,”

You couldn’t bring yourself to listen any further with your mind racing and unable to process any more of their conversation. Jungkook had assured you that your existence and identity were completely secret and that all of the palace staff were sworn in to secrecy but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t gossip about you within palace walls. At least, you were fairly well accepted by the palace staff.

“My lady is so beautiful, I just adore dressing her up,” Rosé, one of your four ladies in waiting, sighs dreamily as she tidies up your dress for the day. It would be your first time wearing a hand tailored dress as you had been wearing made-to-wear dresses up until this point. It was a flowy dress made of light material as per your request, and simply designed for your comfort and carefree movement. Elegant and enchanting, it was the perfect first dress.

“That is a given, she will soon be the queen afterall,” Jisoo turns up her nose at the statement, as if to express how proud she is to be working for the future monarch.

“Which necklace would you like to wear today, my lady?” Lisa asks, as she sets down an assortment of necklaces upon your vanity.

“Would you like to accompany them with earrings,” Jennie asks, gesturing to the tray of earrings on her cart, “or a bracelet?” she gestures to the lower half of the cart with an array of beautiful bracelets.

“Maybe you’d like a headpiece?” jisoo comments stepping up beside you after finishing up with your hair.

You take a moment to ponder, still flustered over being served in such an extravagant way and with incredibly kind and beautiful ladies in waiting, “Umm…I don’t believe I have the appropriate understanding of jewellery accompaniment yet so…is it alright if you make the decisions for me in the meantime?” you timidly look up at your ladies in waiting from your seat at the vanity, shy from their awed and quickly-turned adoring gazes.

“Of course, my lady!” Lisa cheers.

“We’d be more than happy to help you but please, once you feel like choosing what to wear, notify us right away,” Jisoo smiles softly.

“It would mean more to us than anything in the world to properly honour our lady’s wishes,” Rosé pipes up as Jennie fervently nods in agreement beside her.

“Thank you,” you smile, “you’ve all done a fantastic job,”

“It’s all because our lady is already so beautiful,” Jennie compliments as they all bow at your gratitude.

“Noona! Are you finished dressing up? Can I come in?” Taehyung’s excited voice calls through your door. You had heard his loud foot-falls approaching your bedroom and had quickly anticipated his company.

“Yes, you may come in, Tae,” you call back, beginning to stand from your vanity, fully dressed as Lisa pulls open the door for Taehyung to step in and gasp at your appearance.

“Wow! Noona! I always thought you were pretty but now you’re even prettier! You’re the prettiest person in the whole world!” he grins, running up to you with his arms wide open to which you bend down and meet him in an embrace.

“Thank you Tae, you look very handsome in your new attire too, very dashing,” Taehyung was dressed in black fitted trousers and a white button up with embroidered embellishments at the cuffs and collar. Around his neck and fitted through his collar hung a simple gold chain connected to a black cape with the same golden embellishments as seen on his shirt. And, for once, his hair was a neat mess of bouncy curls rather than a messy nest for birds to lay their eggs in.

“Thank you Noona!” you giggle when he steps back and strikes a manly pose for you, his face proud and happy. Lisa, Rosé, Jennie and JIsoo look on at your interaction with Taehyung, all smiling in content at serving under such a kind-hearted and loving person.

“We were so right to take on this job,” Lisa whispers to Jisoo, who nods.

“Forget being a noble lady,” Jisoo states spitefully.

“It’s too boring,” Rosé agrees.

“At least we can dress up and serve someone nice instead of those other noble snobs,” Jennie grins. All four were noble ladies themselves who volunteered to serve as ladies in waiting, others had volunteered for the job too but only they were chosen.

Typically a Queen has eight ladies in waiting but you had expressed your need for only half if not one to serve under you, which peaked their interest. From the noble ladies they were always surrounded by at sourires, balls and galas, many bragged about taking advantage of the opportunity for power when given the chance to be queen, so confident in their noble blood.

As soon as the once despised prince turned his image around and became an admirable king, who needed to marry, many noble ladies and their fathers rushed for the chance to curry favour with noble officials and members of the council to be picked as a queen candidate but were all rejected. None were given an explanation but being selected to be ladies in waiting was a new development when the four originally volunteered to become palace maids as was custom for noble ladies and gentlemen who wanted to gain connections for greater power and business or to escape noble obligations as a main perk of becoming palace maids meant arranged marriages becoming null.

You are a breath of fresh air from most noble ladies out there seeking to become queen. The four can’t wait for your debut into noble society as the new queen. They can’t wait to see all other noble ladies’ jaws drop at the sight of you because, not only were you incredibly beautiful but you were such a warm and kind person, of course you’ll only become even more beautiful in others’ eyes from that. For now they will stay patient and support you in every which way they can as your devoted ladies in waiting.

“Postponing the ceremony?” The retired king exclaimed in bewilderment. It was unheard of. He should be used to his son’s unexpected ways after having tripped up his expectations over and over again but this was too much, “You understand what that entails, don’t you?”

“Father there is no need to fret, despite the war still being fresh, Seoul is at its most peaceful right now, everyone is striving to achieve normalcy once again and our newly established borders are being guarded far more stringently than ever before...” silence. Jungkook knows his father is contemplating his decision, all he needs is one more push, “and besides, didn’t you crown me because you were confident in my capabilities as King?”

It took another momentary beat of silence before Jungkook’s father huffed a chuckle and leaned back in his deep chair. His son was right in all aspects, hence his secondary contemplation on ending the monitoring of his son’s royal duties. Jungkook had proven himself worthy enough in the war, resulting in his crowning - he should finally let his son be to do as he so wishes.

“Very well, I trust you...” the father and son smiled in mutual respect and understanding of each other, “now get out of my chambers, this old man doesn’t want the King visiting him any more from now on, unless it’s to visit as his son,” as a wide grin stretched across Jungkook’s face, his father gave him one more word of advice, “now go and inform your future queen of this new establishment. This very much involves her too so she should be well-informed of this substantial decision,”

“Right away, father,” and with a quick look of acknowledgement, Jungkook left his father’s chambers and sought after you. Referring to the time, he’s pretty sure you’ll be alone in the library practising your reading with Taehyung.

Just as you had told him that morning, he found you in the Royal Library, books piled up around you as Taehyung’s footsteps echo in the background, climbing ladders and exploring long book-filled corridors, his awes of wonder and interest fostering an amiable environment in the usually stiff and sombre room of knowledge that was Royal Palace Library.

“Jungkook,” you smile at the sight of the man you love so much, looking up to instantly lock eyes with him as he enters through the large oak doors. He was as handsome as ever despite his more casual attire of dress pants, shoes, a silk sash wrapped tightly around his slim waist and a white shirt, long sleeves rolled up to his forearms and with a v-neck so deep it had to be loosely laced up with a thick thread.

“I see that you are hard at work,” he praises, eliciting a flustered expression. Your tutoring had just begun and you were only just catching your bearings with the boat-load of information being pushed onto you.

“I-It’s still hard for me to read passages out loud without breaking up here and there; I’m better at reading in my head,”

“That’s alright, I believe in you,” Jungkook had finally reached your side and leaned down to press a kiss on your temple. He then pulls away to lean against your work table with his hands bracing himself against the edge of the table, accentuating his veins and muscles. If his kiss didn’t distract you so much, his toned arms would have.

“Thank you,” you sigh dreamily at the gentle touch of his lips but quickly shake yourself out of your daze, shouldn’t he have a lot of things to do right now? You wouldn’t want to stall him in his work.

Seeing the panic in your eyes, Jungkook quickly reassures you, “It’s alright, I’m on a break and I also have something very important to tell you,”

“What is it?” Jungkook waits until you’ve bookmarked your place and set your book aside before taking your hand in his leaning forward ever so slightly in order to do so. He allows himself a moment to admire your beautiful hand, tracing his thumb over your supple skin and without a single thought, he brings your knuckles to his lips for a kiss, noting a soft but lingering floral scent - kissing your hand has become such an addictive habit of his, he loves kissing your sweet skin. No matter what, you always smell like the flowers you used to take care of.

“Were you in the garden earlier?” Despite his soft tone, you avoid his eyes when answering as if being accused of a criminal act.

“The flowers were just so lovely, I couldn’t help myself,”

Jungkook laughs and kisses you, his hand on your cheek deepening the intimate embrace. He really can’t seem to keep his lips off you whenever you’re together, you’ve found, though you’re not going to complain, “I’m glad you enjoy it there as much as I do,”

“Well...what did you want to tell me?” you ask to distract yourself from getting all the more sheepish.

“It’s about a very important ceremony that I’m choosing to postpone,” this makes you tilt your head in confusion. In your journey to becoming the future queen, you’ve had to read many books on the history and noble culture of the kingdom, which includes the many ceremonies that were held for certain events. You wanted to enquire further but didn’t know if you should or not. Your curious look, however, did all the talking for you, “I’ve decided to postpone the Knight Oath ceremony,”

“Wh-what?” That's definitely a ceremony you’ve read about, especially because it’s one of the most important few.

“You’ve learned about that ceremony already?”

“Yes, o-of course, it’s very important for the safety of the royal family, after all,” you emphasise.

“You’re so smart,” he praises, ignoring your look of concern.

“Jungkook, this is serious,”

“I know I know but tell me how much you’ve learned,” he winks at you, leaning back to look down at and crosses his arms as if he were a tutor quizzing you, “let me know how much you’ve learned so far, my beautiful rose~” his sweet voice drawls seductively at the nickname and has your heart racing in seconds. How does he expect you to answer his question when he’s being so flirty?! “Go on...”

First, you clear your throat, look away and take a deep breath…now, you think you can answer him, “To start with, there are two current knight factions even though there used to be more.” For a moment, you glance at Jungkook and gain confidence from his approving nod before continuing more positively, “One serves only the current King and is composed of very specialised knights with a high level of skill. The second faction is greater in number so, although some are very skilled, most are average at best. Their sole purpose is to serve the people of the Kingdom and those higher up, dispatch squadrons for expeditions to the border or to patrol a highly dangerous area. Umm…” you pause for thought, not knowing what to say next.

“Because their numbers are so large, naturally, there are different rankings, no?” Jungkook continues, making you nod along as you begin to remember what to say next.

“Yes yes! Umm, there’s Rank C for those that are still learning the ropes and are undergoing training. Rank B is for the knights who have graduated from C and are given more responsibilities as well as trust in caring for the people and maintaining peace throughout the kingdom. Rank A is for the elites, the heads of the squadrons spread out across the kingdom, they manage funds, assignments and reports that need to be looked over by the King on a monthly and yearly basis,”

“And how do knights acquire an A ranking?”

“Don’t they have to go through a test of some sort?” you ponder.

“Yes, and?”

“After passing the test, they undergo special training that typically lasts half to almost a full year,” you’re back in the flow again and continue without much more prompting, “when they achieve their rank A medal, they gain a lot of authority and respect, this allows them the ability to access certain places within the Palace, such as the inner palace if they so wish. That is, apart from a few restrictive hours, of course. The Kings faction is overlooked by Sir Min Yoongi whereas the Kingdom’s knight faction is managed by Sir Kim Namjoon,”

“That is correct. Both are capable of managing either faction, however, Commander Kim is adamant at serving the people, if not, he would have very easily qualified as the King’s personal aide. Commander Min just took on the faction that was left. He seems to regret it though,” Jungkook chuckles, “he’s always complaining about how the knights aren’t good enough when it’s him that exceeds all qualifications and so do his standards,” you both giggle at the thought, “Doesn’t each faction have a symbol, love?”

“Oh, yes! The King’s faction is symbolised by a Lion whilst the Kingdom’s faction is symbolised by a Wolf.”

“Now...about that ceremony,”

You gain a look of worry, “that’s right, why are you postponing it? And for how long? The ceremony happens when a new King takes the throne and a new faction of specialised Knights are selected by him to swear their oath of loyalty,”

“Very good,”

It was tradition for when a new King takes over the throne, the knights that can qualify as Rank A can choose to partake in another test, where they compete against one another in front of the new King and, from that, the new King chooses his new faction of knights. The faction that has sworn their oath of loyalty to the old King cannot swear a new oath as only one oath can be made in a Knight’s life and that same oath will continue to be served until the end of their days. It may sound miserable but it’s all about a knight’s honour and none are happier than fulfilling their sworn oath. This is why it’s so important that the Knight's Oath ceremony is held or else it leaves the King vulnerable to assassination attempts. That alone, makes your heart stutter to an almost complete stop.

“Why would you dare put yourself in such danger, Jungkook?” your mind wanders to the recent war and its repercussions on his safety for being the one to win and end it.

“I’ll be fine, it’s you that I’m worried about, my love,” Jungkook lets his worries show through with the furrowing of his brows as he moves to sit beside you once again, “I accept you as my Queen but many nobles who want their daughters to marry me and become royalty will have differing opinions. Instead, I plan on secretly creating a new faction of knights, they are to serve only you,”

You couldn’t believe your ears, “Me?...”

“Yes. The preparations for the ceremony will take some time after I have fully announced my decision so we have some waiting to do. I also play for their symbol be that of an Iris,”

“Why an Iris?”

“It was a flower that my mum associated with my Dad but my father and I both agreed that it always purely encompassed her, the perfect queen. It represents faith, wisdom, hope and valour, just like you. You had faith in me when no one else did, you enriched me with the wisdom and kindness I could never seem to obtain despite my privilege of being born a prince, you gave me hope for a better future and you are far more valourous than I could ever be; taking on this Queen training for when I took you away from where you grew up, I can’t imagine how fearful and anxious you must be but I want to tell you that you are doing amazing, so so amazing, my love,” you don’t know why but you began to tear up. It hadn’t been but a few weeks and, despite all Jungkook’s efforts to make you comfortable, it didn’t take away how hard this all was on you. It was stressful and so overwhelming. At least, you had Jungkook and Taehyung by your side, without them, you would have fallen apart already.

“Thank you...” you whispered.

Jungkook leans forward enough for your noses to touch and holds your face in both of his hands, it’s so intimate and loving as he whispers only for you to hear, “anything for my Queen...”

And he meant every word. It was all too quick of a transition and demanded too much of a person to speed through queen training without the knowledge of being a noble but Jungkook was at a bind, he may be the King but the uncertainty of his people and worries of his council were a heavy weight he couldn’t ignore nor sweep aside so easily. As a result, there was a lot of pressure on you to do well, quickly and Jungkook always felt guilty for putting you in such a difficult place, however, it made him strive towards doing his job as King better. In a sense you were each others’ motivation to achieve good things, all with the same goal; to be able to stand proudly at each other’s side.

Jungkook believes only a true and valiant king is worthy of your love. Likewise, you believe that only a grand and illustrious queen is worthy of him.

Many times, Jungkook reassured you that you could take your time learning all these new things. Being introduced to the world of nobility and being forced to undergo such a strict and rigorous studying regime that noble ladies usually begin at the age of eight, was a heavy burden. You weren’t going to be convinced otherwise, however, Jungkook was an amazing King so you had to become just as amazing in order to competently stand beside him on the throne. It was a big responsibility that you decided to take on and you were going to follow it through to the very end; if your parents had ever taught you anything it was to follow your heart and finish what you started with everything you’ve got so that you don’t live with any regrets moving forward.

“My lady, it’s best for you to sleep now so that you may be able to rise with the birds tomorrow,” Jennie speaks up with a look of worry etched across her sweet face, she, along with the rest of your ladies in waiting - Lisa, Jisoo and Rosé - were stood a few steps away from your writing desk as you burn candle after candle reading and revising the passages in your assigned books for the week, each of them worried for your wellbeing but all had pride swell deep within their chests at your studious and determined manner. You hadn’t begun official queen training yet as you had to get accustomed to the basics first, however, you were treating your current studies as if they were the real thing and they couldn’t be any more proud or happy for you.

“Oh…” you look up to gaze at the clock, “I apologise ladies, you may head on to bed now, you must be very tired,” standing up, you stretch your tired arms and turn to face them. You watch as they exchange looks of apprehension and smile warmly at their fretting, “don’t worry, I promise that I will also head off to bed, thank you for your concern,” at your reassurance, they smile and bow simultaneously before setting out to help you prepare for bed. As soon as you were tucked under the covers, you were out like a light and in a deep slumber, leaving the ladies to quietly tiptoe out of your room by themselves.

Not long after your chamber doors were shut and your ladies in waiting had made it into their own rooms for the night, Jungkook finally made it to your door. He had more to do today than anticipated and had made it over later than usual. It had become a ritual for him to sleep in your room, at your palace for the night even though it was heavily looked down upon by noble society and his council, nevertheless, he didn’t care; he had five long years to make up for, after all.

“(Y/N), my love are you still awake?” Jungkook gently knocks and waits but receives no response. Nonetheless, he sneaks in anyway and sighs softly at your slumbering figure, he takes a moment to observe your busy desk of books and papers and pens. You’re working so hard, it’s inspiring and very cute but…he steps up to stand beside you and looks down at the restless expression on your face. Despite being asleep, you were still somewhat wakeful. Something needed to be done and…Jungkook just might know what to do. Thankfully, he anticipated the circumstance and started preparing sooner rather than later.

Approaching your third month of tutelage means gradually advancing into your official Queen studies, you deserve a break after all that rigorous cramming on the basics. Your tutors predicted 6 months of studies to be sufficient for your general knowledge but you were already proving them wrong with your erudite manner and speed through content across various subjects. You prove to be much more promising than anticipated and they were excited to have such an enthusiastic student to nurture with their knowledge. Each tutor was a master of their craft so they all appreciated your enthusiasm to learn.

Despite this great news, Jungkook worries for your wellbeing. Progressing so swiftly but thoroughly through content mustn’t be good for your mind.

Taking off his shoes and shirt, Jungkook nestles into the sheets beside you and pulls you close. He tucks your nose into his collar and smiles as he feels you cuddle in closer and sigh contentedly from his warmth. So cute…you’re so very cute and he wants to kiss you so badly but you’re tired and need a good amount of rest before your busy day begins again in the morning. Jungkook settles for kissing your forehead with a feather’s touch before slipping into a dreamless sleep himself.

A tender caress; a familiar scent; a sweet warmth and a weighted comfort. It isn’t the golden embellishments, meticulously polished surfaces or the opulent furnishings that made you feel lavish; all the riches in the world could never measure up to the precious feeling it brought you to wake up in the arms of your love. Despite him sleeping over in your chambers regularly, it never took away that loving feeling you feel every time you wake up to him beside you.

Bathing peacefully beneath the warm touch of golden sunbeams, the king slumbers on before you. He is reduced to a vulnerable, soft cub, coddled by your embrace and layers of cotton sheets. There isn’t a singular line of burden to trace along his brows nor is there evident anxiety tensing up his muscular, naked shoulders. It’s an image you will treasure for the rest of your years. Rather than the oppressing responsibilities weighing on his back and taxing his health, you wish that he forever slumbers in serenity.

And yet… selfish greed swells up from a bottomless pit of ravenous emotions housed deep in your heart. Unsatisfied and aggravated, clawing out for a modicum relief.

‘Wake up,’ the cavernous depths of your mind beg greedily, ‘look at me,’ you crave being ensnared by his beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that hold the comfort of the world to you, eyes that have the ability to strike a thrilling excitement but also affectionate ease deep in your heart. You almost claw at his bare and chiselled chest from the crippling desperation of your want- your need to drown in his amorous gaze. Gone was your exhaustion from the previous day as it is swamped by your burning desires.

As if hearing your silent plea, it isn’t long before you’re greeted by the sweet, chocolate pools you adore so much. The instant they connect with your loving stare and register the velvet threading of your dexterous fingers through his unkempt mop of hair, they scrunch up into an adorable smile.

“Good morning,” you whisper with all the love you could muster and kiss his slightly chapped lips. Still sluggish with sleep, his doe eyes disappear once more with an endearing scrunch before he dives to bury his face into your collarbone, pushing you onto your back and eliciting a giggle from your plush lips.

“Mmmm~” he moans roughly into your exposed skin, laying half of himself on top of you, unable to hold himself up out of pure laziness and his want to always be touching, “I love that sound…” he whispers the sentiment into the delicate space between your collarbones before placing a tender kiss onto your sweet skin as if to seal the loving words into your softness.

“What sound?” Does he mean your voice?

“You’re cute giggles,” the statement makes him giggle with you once more, both of your hearts sprouting wings of flight and making your chest feel weightless, “I love waking up to you,” he whispers, somewhat, belligerent.

“Jungkook…” you warn gently but with a hint of humour; you share the feeling but the rule was to not sleep in the same room until you were finally married, all in a pointless effort to prevent rumours amongst the serving royal staff.

“They can’t keep me away,” he continues to pepper kisses up and down the sensitive column of your neck, sometimes daring to dive lower and lower until his lips brush the forbidden line tracing the plush cushiness of your chest, modestly clothed by the trimmings of your flowy nightgown, “never…not from you,” staring down at him with your skin ablaze at the erotic snarl in his words, your eyes widen at the heated gaze he’s already trapping you under, his strong hands on your waist pulling you into his figure and locking you there, eating you up mercilessly with his eyes. If it wasn’t with his stare, it would be with his abundance of kisses, like a hard candy melting onto your tongue, Jungkook wants to melt and consume you with his lips, “I Am The King!” his hold on you begins to shake and his strong figure crumbles, “And yet! They demand I stay away when I can finally have you all to myself and away from all those devious lessons and evil paperwork,” he laments and shudders at the mention of the greatest evil keeping you two apart, endless paperwork and your lessons.

“There there~…” you coo softly, assuring him the way you would your little brother, “you know it’s only a precaution,” he grumbles childishly at your statement, burying his face into your neck once more, as if shielding himself from the reality he doesn’t want to face, “and besides…” he looks up and you both grin cheekily, “no one’s said anything about you sneaking into my bed to sleep so far,”

“The staff already adore you,” Jungkook muses, “I knew you’d make a brilliant queen,”

“I’m not a queen yet,”

“But you will undoubtedly be a phenomenal one, and you'll be all mine,” Jungkook moves up and tucks your face into his firm chest, one arm circling your shoulder to press you close as his other hand gently holds the back of your head, it’s an intimate cradle that has you sighing in content, “not two months into your general studies and you’ve learned all the basics already, that's such fast progress,” your heart sings at the praise and you have to bite your lip to humble your beaming smile. It doesn’t work half as effectively as when you resort to pressing your face into Jungkook’s chest, however, “you’re so smart, you're so amazing...you're so perfect,”

There’s nothing for you to say; you know Jungkook knows how grateful you are for him and words aren’t enough to express it. Instead, you lean down and initiate a kiss, opaque with love and fathomless with gratitude. To think you were so blessed after having experienced paralysing tragedies so early on in your life.

You are grateful to Jungkook for many things but the most you are grateful for is his unconditional love.

Soon enough, Jungkook had to leave for his royal duties that morning and your ladies in waiting pretended not to see anything. Once he was gone, they entered your room and got you dressed for your morning lessons, leading you to now, where you are revising the material outside under the afternoon sun with Taehyung playing around in the garden. Some staff stood by to assist where they were needed and kept a close eye on your little brother, especially if he got close to the pond.

“Would you like some more tea, my lady?” Jisoo asks upon seeing your empty cup.

“Yes please,” she nods and refills your cup beside, “thank you, Jisoo,” she bows gently and steps back to stand with the others. You sip the tea for a small break and turn to look at Taehyung crouched down beside a bed of flowers as Hoseok stood beside him. Listening closely, you were able to pick up their conversation.

“You seem more lethargic than usual, young master,” Hoseok pipes up, “whatever is the matter?”

“What does leather-gic mean, Hoseok?”

“Lethargic means tired, young master,” the red head explains, “now, what’s wrong so that we may fix it?”

“Oh…” Taehyung registers the explanation and sighs at being acknowledged as acting differently. He didn’t want to arouse any suspicion or concern over his well being because that would make you worry and you were already really stressed over your studies, he is undergoing his own studies as well but he can tell that his isn’t as intense as yours; you always have books and papers and notes piled up around you, it’s never ending and very unlike how you only used to be surrounded by flowers at the shop. Maybe that’s why you try to study in the garden as much as possible since the scenery and affluent arrangement of flora is somewhat familiar to you, Taehyung feels the same way, “it’s okay Hoseok-hyung, I’m alright,” Taehyung grins in an attempt to reassure the butler but quickly turns back to take a close look at the flowers before him, hoping that the red-head doesn’t see the falter in his smile.

In the beginning, getting to explore the palace, running around freely in such a pretty and expansive garden and getting to eat a lot of yummy foods was a lot of fun but all those things didn’t take away the strange, upsetting feeling festering inside Taehyung of having to get used to a new environment, a new routine and new people surrounding him. Everyone was always nice but that was only because they had to serve him; he doesn’t have a singular true friend.

“Now we both know that’s not true, young master…” Hoseok points out but is only met with silence. Taehyung refuses to say another word or turn to look up at the butler, he knows he’s being rude but being forced to face what he was desperately trying to suppress made familiar faces flash in his mind and an aching feeling overwhelms his chest. He misses them so much. It’s so lonely without them around, even though he has his noona beside him. As his eyes begin to water, Hoseok surprises him with a seemingly innocuous comment, “though, I’m sure you won’t feel so saddened for long, his highness has prepared something very special for you and his lady,” Taehyung finally looks up at the red-head but upon doing so is tackled to the ground.

“You’re it, Tae!” as quickly as the voice of his very best friend rings in his ears, Jimin is just as quickly bolting away, leaving Taehyung to lean up on his elbows from his fall, “Are you gonna catch me or not?!”

“Jimin!” Taehyung laughs with a wide grin, his tears of loneliness instantly being blinked away and replaced by tears of immense joy and relief. His best friend was here!

“Come on already Tae!” Jimin stops running away to address his friend, hands on his hips with his feet wide apart, “You’re already bad at hide and seek, you can’t be bad at tag too!”

“Oh yeah?! Watch!” Taehyung leaps onto his feet and twice the amount of laughter fills the air of the lush and sparkling garden.

Staring in awe at the scene, your heart aches in happiness for your brother. So distracted by your studies and lessons, you must have neglected his own mental wellbeing. He must have been so lonely and sad and scared. What a relief it is to have Jimin visit him so suddenly and with such a bright smile too. You don’t know if you should be happy for your little brother or beg on your knees with apologies spilling from your lips because you were being such a horrible older sister. Swamped with emotions, you didn’t register the steady steps approaching you with the turning of wheels accompanying them.

“I know what you’re thinking with that watery look in your eyes and I’m here to tell you to stop that right now!” a familiar, scolding voice speaks up beside you and you turn to see Jin dressed in a chef uniform, “You’re a great older sister to Taehyung and that’s why he didn’t want you to worry about him, now…” he turns to pick up a tray from the push cart beside him and offers it to you as you continue to stare in shock at his figure, “I’ve baked all your favourites so eat up!” he’s grinning from ear to ear at you and your own eyes water even more. Wordlessly, you take one of your favourite desserts from his offered tray and bite into it as your tears finally spill over to trail down your cheeks.

“They’re as yummy as always,” you muse in between shy hiccups, trying your best to hold back your tears of joy and relief. Smiling warmly at you, Jin leans down and pulls you into a long, tight embrace. You savour his warmth and familiar scent of bread and sweet treats. Not only did you neglect Taehyung’s loneliness but your own too. How could you become a good queen from this, you almost laugh at yourself as you happily give Jin a squeeze of comfort. He’s really here! You’re so grateful but how…

Catching a glimpse over his broad shoulder, your blurred vision picks up Jungkook’s figure beside a garden statue. Blinking, your vision clears up and you watch Jungkook smiling at the scene before him. This must be his doing…

You give Jin another squeeze and mouth the words ‘thank you’ over his shoulder at Jungkook, who simply bows.

On his lips, he mouths back, ‘Anything for my Queen’.

NEXT.

NAVI. | THE PRINCE WITH THE UGLY HEART MLIST

TAGLIST : @krystle1990 ; @jungkookieyoongs ; @laabellaavitaa21 ; @jeonseagurl ; @minifruity ; @whalerus ; @vanilla-smash ; @kimsdope ; @jungshookmeup ; @satisfied18 ; @justraintan ; @prdshobi ; @janjaiii ; @lovinggalaxies ; @aijoukook ; @blxxmpetals ; @babyrosieareroses ; @outrofenty ; @jjeykayy ; @lovelytaes-blog ; @soleil-lei ; @kookcobain ; @headintheclouddd ; @sugaslittlekookies ; @meiouseiiii ; @reallysparklychaos ; @galaxyflab ; @xmagicxshopx ; @sea-nevermind-enthusiast ; @jeonseagurl ; @minifruity ; @aijoukook ; @jeonstudios ; @purplewinterluv

i'm sorry i didn't include the taglist sooner, dolls! i also apologise for those that i couldn't tag

#ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bangtanfairygarden #jungkook x reader #beauty and the beast au #jungkook beauty and the beast au #jungkook prince au #bts royalty au #reader florist au #bts fairy tale au #bts fantasy au #bts fluff #jungkook fluff

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alpacaparkaseok · 2 years

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pairing: Crown Prince!Jimin x female Captain of the Guard

warnings/tags: war, blood, violence, slow burn, anger, lots of arguing, mind games, star crossed lovers of sorts, a lil spicy but nothing explicit

release date: a week or two out

The King is dead.

His son must take the throne.

But not without her help.

taglist is open for this oneshot! I've been working on it for a little while now and can't wait to share this with you all. pls comment, reblog, or send me an ask/dm if you'd like to be tagged. a friendly reminder that if you're already on my permanent taglist, please don't worry about adding yourself to this specific work. you'll be tagged regardless.

#prince jimin #jimin x reader #bts fanfiction #bts royalty au #jimin royalty au #bts oneshot #jimin oneshot #park jimin #bts scenarios #jimin scenarios

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jeonggukookies · 4 months

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the crown's kingdom || jjk

– summary: after rejecting many suitors, your mother chooses a husband for you, and her choice is none other than your worst nightmare: Jungkook, the prince heir of Aurum. How will you survive an arranged marriage with Jungkook, the one you hate the most?

– genre: royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au, prince!jungkook, queen!reader, arranged marriage - fluff/angst

– note: this is rewritten and reposted as i changed and added some NEW details regarding both oc and jungkook & loosely based on the history of mary stuart !! (i am so sorry)

– word count: 1.2K

The two countries, Caelestia and Luxuria, have been in conflict with each other for many generations now, with constant ongoing invasion battles and military campaigns, shedding hundreds of thousands of blood on each landmass. Being two border countries surrounded by the sea, both countries were hungry for the power, land, and wealth for it to be one.

Tensions escalated even further after your father, the king, had been assassinated by a Luxuria anarchist. Luxuria soldiers saw this opportunity to put the Caelestia castle under siege, seeing this as their chance to finally take the country as their own.

But what they didn’t know is that your mother, the Queen Consort, had given birth to his heir.

The throne of Caelestia, was inherited by the daughter of King Constantine of Caelestia and Queen Consort Nylah, you, two days after you were born.

During your childhood, your mother has been acting Queen Regent, taking care of all the responsibilities on your behalf since you’ve been crowned Queen. She wasn’t like most mothers, letting you live a privileged life, not wanting you to suffer through the hardships of royalty until you were of age.

Despite spending most of your time with your many governesses and trying to play hide and seek in the castle with other noble children, the People of Luxuria still saw you as a threat. And by your seventh birthday, they were finally brave enough to send a message, that they still wanted your throne by seasoning your porridge with poison, intentionally killing your royal taster.

With a failed assassination attempt, your mother sent you to the country of Aurum for your protection away from the Luxurians, hidden away from your own people across the sea.

Not only were you the Queen of Caelestia, but because of your mother’s side, you were related to the Queen of Luxuria, meaning you could claim the Luxuria throne as yours if the Queen of Luxuria dies without a heir and if the people accept you.

Before marrying your father, she had been an Aurum noblewoman with land in Luxuria, and the Aurum court allowed you to be there for your safety and as a part of a small, meaningless alliance.

Living at Aurum Court was almost the same as your own courts. The only difference was being with other Aurum royals. As a child, the Prince of Aurum had been a constant troublemaker, a reigning terror for his own people. He was known for cheekiness and confidence, getting out of tough situations with his charms and good looks.

“Jungkook.” You forced a smile, entering the throne room after being suddenly summoned in the middle of the night. “What are you doing here?”

He pointed in the direction in front of him, and there was his parents, the King and Queen consort of Aurum on their respective thrones with your mother standing next to his mother.

Your jaw dropped, not expecting her to be standing in front of you. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had seen her in person. The last few years, you’ve only been corresponding with letters to her. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s no way to greet your mother.” She came forward to give you a quick hug and then returned back to her original position. “The Luxuria troops are getting stronger at the border.”

“And I’m sorry, how does this matter revolve around me and my country?” Jungkook asked.

You rolled your eyes at Jungkook’s comment. As children, your personality always clashed with Jungkook. The two of you always tried to avoid each other at all costs.

Although you and Jungkook were raised together in the castle, experiencing the same exact royal lessons of courtesy, ballroom dancing and diplomacy, you never once could get along with Jungkook, turning everything with him into an argument or competition whether it was for academic endeavors or favoring the people of

the court.

“I took a risk coming here as Luxuria has barely allowed travel between our two countries,” she said. “I came here to finalize the alliance, that the two of you would wed.”

Jungkook sighed. “It happened, didn’t it?”

“What happened?” You asked, not understanding the context. “Hasn’t Jungkook been engaged with Princess Comet of Cometes since they were six?”

“The King legitimized his first-born and mistress’s son,” his mother explained.

Your heart dropped upon hearing the news. “She is no longer the Princess of Cometes?”

“I am afraid not, but good news, Jungkook, you have a new bride,” your mother announced.

“This can’t be,” you insisted. “Surely, there’s someone else.”

“My child, you will marry our son and make him the king of two countries, and then later put your claim on Luxuria once the queen dies. There, you two will have three countries,” the King said.

But you never once wanted to rule Luxuria.

“We have given you protection and will continue to do so for this alliance.”

“But we cannot be wed,” Jungkook argued.

“You will especially since you’ve scared all the other suitors away,” your mother said.

You were fiercely known for your independence and stubbornness, always speaking your mind. Your honesty and independency allowed you to earn your title as the Ice Queen, but that was all because of Jungkook.

Through the game of telephone and writing secretive notes around the castle, the whole castle knew how you rejected possibly the best suitor for love, Kim Namjoon. He would have given up his country for you, and everyone knew it.

At the time you were thirteen, still lacking tact, you met with Namjoon in the library and told him that giving up his own country for someone was foolish and idiotic. And Jungkook, hiding behind the curtains of that room, ran with it, spreading the word that you broke Namjoon’s heart, needing more than him and his country as a power hungry queen.

Kim Namjoon’s heart wasn’t the only one you broke. Prominent and wealthy families from neighboring realms had sent their sons to court you, yet their efforts left you unimpressed and unmoved.

As the years went on, there were less and less potential suitors. No one wanted their son to marry someone who was an intimidating person, and no one especially wanted a queen that could not be controlled.

“It’s time for this childhood rivalry of yours to end.”

“Mother, you know he’s the reason why suitors are afraid of me.”

“Get over it,” Jungkook gritted through his teeth.

“How dare he disrespect me as a queen?”

“He was thirteen.” Your mother groaned. “You will marry Jungkook for your people, for your country.”

You stepped forward, distancing yourself away so no one could hear what you were about to say. “And you and I know he will not love me.”

As fortunate as your life was, there was still a burden to bear, a burden even heavier as a royal. You still sought for an union to secure your financial and political status in society. Despite being a queen and having almost everything you want, the one thing you want the most is the one thing you knew you couldn't have: love.

She sighed. “And we both know love does not matter for people like us.”

“But did thou not love my father and he thee?” Despite his death, the story of your father and his legacy lives on, including his love story with your mother.

“Indeed, we loved each other truly,” she said. “But stories like his and mine happen once in a lifetime. Perhaps, the promise of love and the future of reconciliation can come.”

Taking a look over your shoulder. You see Jungkook smirking. “Well Ice Queen looks like we need each other after all.”

________

hello hello hello!

thank you for reading the prologue for this new series :) i am very excited! please let me know if you need more context or visuals of some things were confusing.

#bangtanwriters-net #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook fanfic #crown kingdom #royalty au #jungkook royalty #enemies to lovers #jungkook angst #mine

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wishesunderthestars · 10 months

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The King's Advisor // Ch. 1

Pairings: King!Yoongi x Advisor!reader

Summary: The king's advisor is the most crucial position in the kingdom, the king trusts her judgment and always listens to her opinions and advice. They are a formidable pair but behind closed doors, the king and his advisor bicker and throw back-handed insults at each other more often than not. The feelings of dislike are very much mutual. She is a champion at testing the King’s patience because she knows she is too valuable to his rule to face repercussions. So it’s bickering and sarcasm dripping from their lips–

Until war breaks out.

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.6k+

Warnings: war, injuries

“Well, that was stupid,” you said, leaning back on the chair and crossing your legs.

Yoongi, who had just closed the wooden doors of the council room, turned to look at you with raised eyebrows. The meeting of the King’s Council had just ended and it was just the two of you left inside.

“I beg your pardon?”

You huffed. “That boy isn’t ready to be a captain, he isn’t ready to be a lieutenant even. He doesn’t have the barest idea of how to lead, he can barely fight himself. The fact that his father used to be captain doesn't mean anything.”

“His family is one of the most influential in the kingdom, I couldn’t deny him the position,” Yoongi said. “I don’t want any disputes with them and there would have been a lot if I didn't promote him to his father’s position.”

You leaned your elbows on the long table. “You could have given him a smaller team, told him you would promote him to a larger one when he was ready. Would you trust him to lead a hundred men into a battle? Or defend a city? Because I wouldn’t.”

Yoongi stood opposite you. His long blond hair was pulled up into a neat topknot with a gold and black headband securing it in place. “His family wouldn’t be happy with that. They would question whether I trust them and whether they have done enough for the kingdom.”

“I, for one, don’t trust them,” you said. “They have been salivating after the throne for years, looking for higher and higher ranks in the military and positions in your council. If anyone ever tries to overthrow you, it will be them.”

Yoongi put his hands on the table, bending forward. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why they don’t have a seat on my council and why you are here instead of their eldest son.”

“If their eldest son were in my place, you would already be dead,” you said getting up.

“Watch your tongue.” Yoongi gritted his teeth, a fire burning in his eyes. The day had been hard on him, he had been in meetings since the morning and he had several hours of sword fighting practice as well. It was easier to rile him up when he was tired and you were the only one who wouldn’t pay for it.

You got up and sauntered up to him. “And if I don’t? You know as well as I do that he won’t be a good captain. He isn’t ready for it and he might never be ready for it. His team will be a liability.”

“I know what I’m doing. An incompetent captain is better than a family with connections like a spiderweb planting words against me.”

“If I heard word of that, I would cut off their webs with silver scissors. They aren’t the only ones with connections,” you said. “Things are tense on our northern borders, we shouldn’t be treating military positions lightly.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, up close you could see the reflection of the candles in them. “The-”

A knock on the door interrupted him and you both turned to look. The door opened without any announcements or permission from the King. Namjoon walked inside, his short brown hair combed back, splashes of ink on his white sleeves, and a few papers in his hands. Namjoon was the only person other than you who could barge into the council room like this and face no repercussions.

He took one look at the two of you and closed the door behind him.

“What are you arguing about this time?" he asked. You rolled your eyes and Yoongi scoffed. "Forget it, I don't need to know. We have to go over these papers so get comfortable."

Wordlessly, Yoongi sat down on the chair at the head of the table and the two of you took the ones next to him. Namjoon had missed the meeting because of these papers so they had to be important.

You and Namjoon were the King's most trusted members of the Council. The three of you would often gather late at night or early in the morning to discuss matters of the kingdom and make the difficult decisions.

Namjoon was the son of one of the best warriors the kingdom had ever seen and it had been a surprise when Namjoon hadn't followed in his father's footsteps, choosing books and ink over sword and armor. He had soon become known for his smarts and his eloquent speech—he was the one who went over the King's speeches, putting into words what Yoongi couldn't—and had been easily granted a place in the King's Council. His friendship with the King had a lot of people doubting the decision but soon he proved that he belonged there as much as anyone else. More really.

Unlike Namjoon, you and Yoongi hadn't been friends at any point in your life that you could remember. Maybe when you had been too young to read or write and you were hiding behind your mother's skirts, but not since then. Your father had been the late King's advisor and as his only child, you had been prepared to take his place since you could pick up a pen. He and your mother didn't have any other children and the fact that you were a girl didn't deter them, none of the past King's advisors had been female but your father was determined you would be the first one.

You had spent days and nights over books guided by your father and the best teachers in the kingdom, the same ones teaching the future king. You would see each other occasionally but didn't exchange more than a few words. During your teenage years, your fathers deemed it wise for the two of you to share a few of your lessons, you needed to build trust between you if you were to work together in the future. Instead of friendship, a rivalry brewed. You didn't remember how it started but you couldn't forget how it continued. Exchanging jabs about who was the best at which lessons and who did better at tests. Glaring and provoking each other.

When his father passed on and Yoongi ascended to the throne, it was his time to choose his personal advisor. You had been training for the position all of your life but you were still surprised when he asked you, bearing the gift of a gold bracelet engraved with flowers and embellished with precious stones. The King had to base his decisions on many factors but the most important was trust. Trust to work towards a bright future for the kingdom. Trust to support him through everything.

You didn't ask him why he chose you, you didn't voice any of your questions about trust. For years, you worked together and it was almost like nothing had changed from your teen days.

Half of the candles had gone out by the time you had gone over all of the papers. Your eyes hurt and a headache was brewing behind your temples. Your usual late nights ended earlier than this.

Namjoon gathered the papers with clumsy movements. Yoongi had to catch one before it flew away after Namjoon shoved it off the table.

"I think I may fall asleep if I stay any longer," Namjoon said when all the papers were safely in his arms. You could relate to that. "I would recommend going to sleep now. Have a good night."

You echoed his words and he left. The door closing was the only sound in the dimly lit council room.

You rubbed your eyes and looked at the King. His hair was coming undone and it glinted like threads of gold in the candlelight. His sharp eyes were softer, the way they got at night when his walls weren't as high as the castle's.

"I will be going then," you said, getting up and smoothing down your dress. There was no reason to do it, no one other than the guards would see you at this time. It was more out of force of habit than anything else.

"Wait for a moment," Yoongi said. You stopped before you could move to the door. "The Lee boy will be trained under Hoseok. He will be answering to him and if anything goes wrong I trust Hoseok to make it right. I wouldn't jeopardize the safety of the kingdom."

"It still doesn't sit right with me," you said. You knew that Yoongi had the best interests of the kingdom in mind but that didn't mean you always agreed. More often than not, you didn't. "But that's enough for tonight. It's late and frankly, I'm too exhausted to debate about the Lees. We can talk more about this tomorrow."

Yoongi opened his mouth and closed it again. "Don't forget a lamp. Unless you want to walk in the dark."

"Of course," you muttered, annoyed that Yoongi had to remind you. The torches in the hallways would have gone out a long time ago. "I would have remembered to take one."

"I don't doubt it," Yoongi said, smirking. Ignoring him, you picked up an oil lamp from the top of a large chest and tilted it close to one of the lit candles to share the flame. "Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, my king."

You saw his eyebrows twitch before leaving the room. He wasn't fond of his friends using his title to address him. You wouldn't exactly put yourself in that category but you didn't use his title when it was the two of you, you didn't use it in the council either. You would throw it out there occasionally just to see his reaction.

The guards were standing at attention on either side of the door, their hands on their long swords. They stared ahead as you walked down the empty corridor.

A few days later, you strolled into the private training grounds. It was a wide space surrounded by trees, right next to the gardens accessible only to the royal family. You were one of the few exceptions.

The continuous sound of metal clashing on metal rang in the otherwise silent place. The swords glinted and glimmered, reflecting the light of the midday sun. Yoongi and Hoseok were sparring, their movements so quick they were but a blur.

Yoongi's hair was pulled up in a tight knot and sweat was running down his face and his sculpted chest. His shirt was thrown aside, too much of a nuisance after what looked like several hours of practice. You had to swallow to ease the dryness in your throat.

You watched them—transfixed by their deadly dance—until the King's eyes locked with yours. Others would have cowered at the power in his gaze but you held it steadily like you had done all your life. One second of distraction and Hoseok's sword touched his pale neck, a whisper away from drawing blood.

"And I win," Hoseok said. He turned around, his eyes falling on you, and he smiled as if he understood a joke. "I see. I guess I owe this one to you."

You grinned and walked closer to them. "I'm not sure about that. I think you would have won either way."

"You should join us more often then," Hoseok said.

It was a view you both dreaded and craved to get used to. You didn't make a habit of visiting the training grounds, the King's private ones, or the much larger common ones. The art of battle wasn't one you had delved into. Your father had taught you the basics of protecting yourself but your interest had stopped there. And although watching shirtless men training, wielding swords and bows, and sweating was appealing in theory, you found that the reality wasn't as satisfying.

That's what you reminded yourself and the heat swirling in your stomach.

"How much longer will you be in our company?" you asked Hoseok.

The situation in the North wasn't getting better. Soldiers from the neighboring kingdom had been breaching the borders for months, engaging in small-scale conflicts with your forces stationed there. This was clear as day provocation but you didn't want to go into war.

Hoseok would go along with his team to survey the state of affairs and send a report back.

"The day after tomorrow," he said, sheathing his sword. "It isn't a short trip and it would be for the best to arrive as soon as it is possible." He looked at you and Yoongi, who had turned away. "I will be leaving then. Go easy on him. He's tired," he told you. Yoongi shook his head in disbelief. "I hope we have a chance to catch up before I leave."

"I can always find some time for you," you said.

Hoseok's smile widened before bidding you goodbye and walking away, leaving you and Yoongi alone.

Yoongi gulped down the contents of his leather waterskin, his Adam's apple bobbing, shiny with sweat. "What are you doing here?"

"Am I not allowed?"

"That is not what I said." He put away his sword in its jeweled case and left it on a stone bench. "If you are here that means you were looking for me for something."

You didn't deny it, although it wasn't the complete truth either. There were plenty of matters pending to be discussed and there were about ten things you weren't seeing eye-to-eye and you had to reach an agreement on. Nothing new. But the reason you were there was none of those things.

You had gone on a walk to clear your head after a morning of socializing with some of the most important people in the kingdom and your feet had carried you to the royal gardens before you realized where you were going. Finding Yoongi and Hoseok wasn't your intention. But you weren't about to say that.

Yoongi crossed his arms and looked at you, awaiting an answer. Your eyes strayed to his bare arms and chest and you scolded yourself and pulled them back up in what you hoped was a subtle manner.

"Are you going to stay like this?" you asked.

Yoongi gazed down at himself and what could have been a smirk played at the edges of his lips. "Why? Is it bothering you? Have you not seen a man's body before?"

"Are you a child?" He knew very well the answer to that question. Hell, it wasn't the first time you were seeing him half-naked. That was one of the perks—or cons, depending on your viewpoint—of your job. "For a king, you forget about decency an awful lot."

"When have you cared about decency?"

He picked up his white shirt that had been carelessly thrown on the bench and wiped the sweat off his face and neck with it. You had to look away.

"Where have you been all day? You weren't in your office and you didn't attend tea."

"Were you disappointed?"

"On the contrary," you said sharply. "I was only wondering if you were alive."

He extended his arms to the sides. "As you can see I am very much alive. Sorry to disappoint. I was here."

"All morning?" you asked, not convinced.

The royal gardens weren't a place Yoongi visited often. You were more likely to find Namjoon here observing nature with a book in one hand. Yoongi hadn't displayed any fondness for the place other than the privacy it could offer but his rooms could offer the same privacy and he preferred them.

"I'm the King, can I not take a morning to myself?"

"It's because you're the King that you can't," you shot back. "Did you sign those papers I gave you?"

"I did."

"Did you read them or did you sign them blindly?"

"I read them." Yoongi walked to you until your faces were inches apart. "I read every single one of them. I don't do things halfway. Is that all?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Do you perhaps want more work? I can arrange for something. There is always more work to be done."

Yoongi scoffed and backed away. "You're impossible."

"Thank you, I try," you said. Your mood sobered as you remembered what had been swirling in your head for the past week. "A letter arrived ahead of the envoy from Harfush, they will be here in three days."

Yoongi's demeanor changed, his shoulders tensing. "We will be ready when they arrive. We have prepared for everything."

"Almost everything," you pointed out. "They are set on this. I know it. They have been pushing for months now and it has only been getting worse. This isn’t going to end with a talk with an envoy. They’re hoping to get land from us in exchange for stopping their attacks but that is only prolonging the inevitable.”

His eyes hardened. “If it comes to it then so be it. We are not giving them anything. We will fight and they will regret bringing the war to us.”

“I will hold you to that.”

The envoy arrived and you were proven right. They were after your northern lands, a large stretch of the kingdom. Yoongi told them in the most political way to go fuck themselves, which—to no one’s surprise—the delegation wasn’t pleased with. They left two days later with thinly-veiled threats of war.

Your kingdom hadn't seen war since the days Yoongi's great-grandfather was king. Peace was a fragile thing but Yoongi's father and grandfather had protected it like the most precious jewel in the realm despite the aggressions of their neighbors. But it had never got that bad. Petty thievery here and there, a few arrogant nobles that dreamed of war. The carefully balanced scales had tragically tipped during Yoongi's reign.

The turning had found you prepared. Your soldiers were many and had trained tirelessly with the cloud of war hanging above them. Your numbers were fewer than the enemy’s but you had something they didn't. Fire. Pyres burning in your souls, stronger than forest fires. That was the gift of the people of Tinigris, the nation of the Tiger.

And so it was only a matter of time.

“What are you still doing here?”

Yoongi was standing over the large map of the continent. On it, figures like chess pieces were carefully arranged, depicting the bigger picture of the stationed troops—your own and the enemy’s.

Yoongi looked up at you, the light casting deep shadows on his face. His hair was falling in his eyes and underneath, dark half-moons were inked in his porcelain skin. "What does it look like?"

"Like you are exhausting yourself going over matters we have already discussed to great lengths when you should be resting."

Yoongi's eyes flashed with something unreadable in the flame of the candles. "The drums of war are at our doorstep, minutes away from spreading like an infection in our land. It is not the time for resting."

"If you want to be dead on your feet tomorrow when we will actually discuss strategy and diplomacy then by all means, it is not the time for resting. If you want to be able to participate in the conversation, I would advise you to go to sleep now."

His hands twitched on the table. "I am not the only one awake, am I?"

The truth was that you had laid in your bed, closed your eyes but sleep refused to come to you. You had tried and failed. Your room was too dark and restricting and you were too restless. You had dressed in a simple black velvet dress with a low neckline, which some of the older nobles would consider scandalous, threw a silky shawl over your shoulders that did nothing to keep you warm, and wandered into the long shadowed hallways.

You couldn't tell him any of that so instead you said, "No, you are not the only one."

The majority of the little soldiers were placed along the borders. Hoseok had sent back a letter confirming what you already knew. There was a war brewing in the North and there was no stopping it. You couldn't run away from the storm, you could only walk into it prepared.

Yoongi's hair wasn't done up in its usual style but he must have carelessly pulled it up himself. Several strands were framing his face and he wasn't wearing his headband. In the quiet madness of the night, he seemed almost vulnerable.

"Why do you speak to me about sleep when you are as awake as I am?" he asked.

"Because at least one of us should sleep," you said. "It will be a long day tomorrow and days will only get longer from here."

His gaze went back to the pieces on the board. "I know that if I go to my chambers, I will find no more peace than you did." The shadows seemed to grow longer on his face. "We have avoided war for years. All of our attempts have been in vain. I'm sending my people into a bloodbath."

"If there was anything more we could do, you know very well we would have done it," you said. "Your people know you don't want this war. We can't stand here while they attack our lands. If we don't fight back, they will raid the villages close to the borders. It will only get worse. Kill, take slaves, do unspeakable things. Blood will be spilled either way. The North is thirsty for it. Better for our people to die defending their homes than be slaughtered with their families at night, unaware."

Yoongi's jaw clenched. In his eyes, you saw the fire and you saw the tiger. "I won't let them. I will fight for them until my last breath. If the North wants blood they will have it. It will overflow."

Yoongi glowed brighter than any flame in the room. Fierce and alluring in the way a sword is, tempting you to cut your finger on the blade to test how sharp it is.

"I won't offer empty words, to you I never have," you said. "It will be hard and we can't know how long it will last. There will be death and there will be wounds that won't heal. But we won't back down. We are the descendants of fighters, of warriors of great deeds. We prospered in peace and we will thrive in war. We will hold the borders, we will hold them back. And I believe we will emerge victorious."

Yoongi reached for something behind him and upon placing them on the table, you realized they were two glasses and a bottle of wine. He poured a generous amount into each and extended one to you.

"Let's drink to that," he said.

"To victories," you said and your glasses clinked.

Everything moved on faster from them, a river getting more and more narrow and running faster and faster. Strategies—political and military—, estimations, gathering the troops, reaching out to allies, making plans. You weren't a great warrior but you had studied battle strategies for years and you viewed battlefields as chess boards. You were great at chess.

Nobles, soldiers, townsfolk, and villagers alike were talking about the war in hushed whispers. Everyone knew it was approaching, a black galloping horse, neighing and squealing. Letters were being exchanged swiftly with the troops on the northern borders, keeping you informed about the moves of the enemy. When war was officially declared, you had to be ready.

Tensions rose in the palace as they did between the two kingdoms. You could barely sleep. When you closed your eyes, you saw images of a red sky, swinging swords, disembodied limbs, and unseeing eyes. You saw destroyed villages and burned houses. They haunted even your dreams. Most nights, you spent in the council room with Yoongi, both of you restless. Sometimes you discussed strategies, sometimes you were quiet in each other's company, other times you fought the way you often did. Upon returning to your rooms, you were able to steal a few hours of sleep.

Time was but an illusion to you. Days blended into each other yet you were intensely aware of each one passing. You drowned in meetings with the council, late nights with the King, and dealing with the noble families—an art you had once upon a time mastered but was slipping through your fingers.

Tensions were rising in the palace. Yoongi was on edge, running from meeting to meeting until he was bound to burn out. Your patience was running thin.

And the King, most of all, was testing it.

"You can't ride at the front in the battle," you said, repeating yourself for what felt like the thousandth time. You were in his office with Namjoon, debating his stupid ideas. "If you are killed, the war is over. Who will be left to lead the soldiers? You have no heir, no brothers or sisters, no one to continue the line."

"Who will lead them then?" Yoongi asked ferociously. "Who will they follow if not their king? Hoseok will be by my side. We will protect each other."

You gripped the glass of wine tighter. You wanted to get up and pace but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "This isn't training. This is a real war, protecting each other won't guarantee that either of you are safe. You will be the main target the moment you step into the battlefield. Do you expect the king of Harfush to charge first into battle? To fight at all?"

"I'm nothing like him!" Yoongi said sharply. "I will not hide behind my soldiers while they fight my kingdom's battles! I refuse to cower in the camp like a coward."

"I'm not asking you to," you said, trying to keep your voice from rising. "I'm asking you not to run first into the battle and become an easy target. Do you know how easy it will be for them to shoot you with arrows?"

"She is right, you know," Namjoon said. He was sitting on the other chair in front of Yoongi's large wooden desk, bent over a few papers. What he was writing, you had no idea. Yoongi narrowed his eyes in betrayal. "You want to lead the charge, I understand that, it's the honorable thing to do but they aren't honorable. If you are dead, our people won't know who to follow. There will be chaos and Harfush will take advantage of that."

Yoongi got to his feet, it sounded like an earthquake. "What would you have me do then? I will fight! You can't hold me back from fighting for my kingdom!"

Silent words passed between you and Namjoon. Neither of you liked the idea but it was true that you couldn't stop Yoongi from fighting. You would have to tie him up to keep him in the camp.

You sipped on the wine, an action that seemed to only agitate Yoongi further. "You will fight. But not in the front lines and you won't have only Hoseok with you but your personal guard as well. The ones who are willing to lose their lives to save yours."

"Is that it?" Yoongi asked, something animalistic in his expression. It was coming closer to the surface the past few weeks, clawing and snarling. "Are you making all the decisions for the war? Deciding what is best for MY people?"

Namjoon paused his writing. "We are not making any decisions for you. We only want you to see reason. We are here to advice and guide you, not force your hand."

You held back a huff. "Riding first into battle is suicide. And who will lead YOUR people then? When you are no longer here to do it."

"Why don't you lead them since you seem to believe you can do it so much better?" he snarled. His hand struck the desk with a loud thump, papers, candles and glasses clattering. Namjoon steadied the ink bottle before it could spill and paint the room blue. You held yourself back from flinching.

The world stood still for a moment like it was holding its breath. Yoongi's lips parted. Quickly he pulled back his hand and looked away.

"I'm sorry," he said, gritting his teeth. "I let my temper get the best of me."

Your heartbeat was rising but you kept your voice steady. "I have no desire to lead, only to advise you. I can do nothing more. It isn't only your life on the line. It's the kingdom. Your life is more important than honor or your desire to prove you are a good king."

His jaw clenched. "I will think about it." A dismissal of the conversation. Namjoon went back to his papers and you rested back on the chair, your fingers drumming the tune of war on the arms.

The days grew smaller and the nights longer. Your blood was either freezing or burning. The songs in the court were lifeless, a front no one was believing anymore. Fewer people were good enough pretenders to sing and dance. Wine tasted dull on your tongue. Underneath everything, you were scheming.

War. It had turned from a whisper into a chant. It was the cold breath on your neck in the middle of the night, chilling you to the bone. But you were ready for it. As ready as someone could be for the cruelty humanity had created.

It didn't start with fire or a war cry. It started with a letter. A declaration of war sealed with the royal seal of Harfush.

The night before the King's departure, you and Yoongi met in the council room.

"You are not coming to the front," Yoongi said, thunder flashing in his face. "You are to stay here and rule in my stead. There is no place for you on the battlefield."

You stood your ground, you were used to Yoongi's dangerous looks that would have made anyone else cower. The candles burned around the council room like pyres in the night.

"I am no ruler," you said. "I am the King's advisor and I should be where the king is. Be it the Castle or the battlefield. I will go where you go."

Yoongi clenched his fists. "You are not coming to the front and that's the end. I need you here to take care of the kingdom while I'm gone."

"Namjoon is more than capable of taking care of the kingdom, the council listens to him more than they listen to me." Many in the council believed you were too young and too inexperienced to be the King's advisor. No one would say it in front of Yoongi but amongst themselves they whispered that he had chosen wrong. "You need me there," you continued. "I have studied battles all my life, I am one of the best war strategies you have. It would be foolish not to take advantage of that."

"I have studied battles all my life too and I will have my generals with me. Your place is here in the castle and that is where you will stay."

Anger licked your insides with tongues of fire. "Are you ordering me?" When he stayed silent, you went on. "Do you seriously believe they need me more here than on the front where our fate will be decided? You have always been the better fighter, I was never good at that, but when it comes to strategy, I was better and you know it. Let me be there for you, let me do what I'm meant to do. What is a King's Advisor without a king?"

"Don't." The power was gone from his voice, his head bent. "Stay here. The kingdom needs you."

"The kingdom needs to win and they need you. And I shall be by your side,” you said, not leaving him any chance to contradict you. “I won’t go into the battle, obviously. I will stay at the camp which will be protected and if they reach the camp, that means the war is over. It wouldn’t make a difference if I were there or in the castle. I would be doomed either way.”

“If we lose,” he said through gritted teeth as if it pained him to think about it. “You can escape the castle, go to another country, take Namjoon with you and start anew.”

You were fuming. “Would you run away if you had the chance? Would you escape if you were in my place? Take the coward’s way out?” He looked away. “I am not going anywhere.” Concealed in a pocket of your dress, you pulled out a blade as long as your hand and threw it on the table. “I would rather slit my neck with this blade than run away. I either do this here or at the camp. You choose.”

Yoongi stared at the blade. He was as tense as a tightrope. Watching him was like watching a forest fire. Until something crumbled or it could have been the tremble of the flames surrounding you. He drew back, pulling his eyes away.

“Don’t do it,” he muttered at last. “Stay here.”

“I can’t.”

“Do as you please then.”

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#bts #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #bts fic #bts fanfic #King!Yoongi #bts series #bts scenarios #bts au #bts yoongi #king yoongi #royalty au #namjoon #hoseok

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demonshauntingthedoves · 8 months

Text

𝒐𝒕7

Bring The Fire : YanderePrinces!ot7 x female reader [series] (@bangfantanfic)

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

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

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒌𝒋𝒊𝒏

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

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏

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

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

𝒎𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒊

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

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒕𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈

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

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒏

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

𝒋𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒋𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌

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 )

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ilys00ga · 9 months

Text

BODYGUARD BOYFRIEND TO THE RESCUE (prologue)

pair: yoongi x female reader.

synopsis: afraid of losing him again, you cling onto him as you try to keep him by your side. (aka. how you convinced him to work for you).

genre: fluff. bodyguard!yoongi, princess!reader, modern royalty AU.

A/N: this is originally a +1 to my other one-shot, but I guess it can also be considered as an individual one? idk, I just had my fun.

warnings: none. I just really have romantic feelings for boxer yoongi *cries*.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

walking down these very familiar stairs has become a frequent occurrence in your weekly routine.

muffled sounds of leather colliding with leather become more audible the deeper you step down the dark stairway until you finally reach the faintly illuminated room and spot him training all alone inside the square boxing ring.

the loud clacking noise of your heels against the hard floor announces your presence as you walk towards him.

"you seem to be enjoying this place." yoongi comments, not bothering to stop and face your unhappy form.

"I need to talk to you." the beating of your heart is so annoying as you take in the sight before you, shamelessly staring at his sweaty back, all buffed up with muscles making your head spin every time they flex and throb.

"what are you so eager to talk about like that." silence is all you offer as a sign of seriousness. he sighs and halts in his movements before turning, breathlessly abandoning his task and giving you his full attention with his arms hanging lazily over the ropes that hug the ring. his pale skin is glistering, shining with the soft lights that hang above your heads.

"alright, what it is?" he inquires.

why is your stomach producing so many butterflies all of a sudden?

"I heard about your father's decision to move to Daegu." you gulp the lump in your throat down, focusing on the reason behind your visit today and nearly failing.

"that, I have already guessed." he shrugges.

"what are you going to do?"

"whatever he wants me to."

your breath hitched for a second, and you raise a confused eyebrow at him. "are you seriously gonna leave just like that?"

"why not? our stay wasn't even guaranteed to begin with. father was nothing but a guarderner your father hired years ago. now he wants to leave, what do you expect me to do?" he glares back at you with a blank expression. he's so hard to read today.

you fight your scoff because you know he's right. he always is. it's not his fault, and he should probably go and find something else to do with his life in lieu of wasting it in the castle, yet you can't let him go. not yet.

you take a deep breath in, trying to steady your heartbeat as discreetly as possible in his presence and step closer to the edge of the ring. "I'm moving out of the castle to settle into my own house somewhere else. I also discussed the matter with father, and he suggested that you come work as my bodyguard or something."

"why?"

because I want you to, dummy.

"why not? it's a good job, probably better than anything you can find once you go out there."

"and what about my dad?" yoongi's voice grows noticeably timid, blank eyes avoiding yours and settling on the ground.

"father said he will take good care of him, so neither of you has to worry about that. he said your father is way too good of a man to discharge just like that."

hesitation and worry, that's what his expression was reading as he looks back at you. you expected to get a scoff, a glare, a dismissing look...anything that could be classified as rejection. anything but a smirk, a sexy smug even, snapping so suddenly and creeping up his handsome face, then he comments with a breathy chuckle, "you want me to stay?"

you roll your eyes at that, desperately trying to look as nonchalant as ever despite the heat that washed over your face and body. "don't get too delusional."

"why do you want me to work specifically for you, then?" damn it, he's good.

"it's just..." you pause as you back away, choosing to grab the chair that has been sitting there watching your pathetic attempt at making your childhood crush friend stay and plopping down on it. "I don't trust any of my dad's men, I mean I do, sort of, but not enough to let them guard and be close to me 24/7 out of the castle grounds." you admit honestly, hesitating before adding more arguments to convince the man, "plus you are already skilled and well trained, kind of scary looking too. I think you'd fit the job perfectly."

yoongi stares silently at you, seeming to be contemplating the arguments you offered, making you fiddle with your fingers as you grow anxious. he then blinks, narrowing his eyes with a suspicious face.

"did you just say I'm scary looking?" he blurts.

letting out a breathy chuckle, you slowly rise from your seat to approach him again with a playful yet warm smile.

"we grew up together, somehow I do trust you more than I probably should." there's a pause as you let that piece of information settle into your own head before you continue, "take your time. think about it as much as you like. make up your mind, just... don't leave yet." you search into his eyes for a brief moment, despirately fishing for any hint of discomfort. upon finding none, you decide your job is done. you've tried your best, you can't force him into doing anything. he's a human, you respect him and you can not strip his right of choice just because you're the king's daughter. he's a friend. a very dear one.

"yah! don't run away when you just called me scary-looking!" he playfully yells, watching you giggle as you lazily walk away.

"I'll be waiting!" you shout one last time, leaving him to think your proposal through.

a couple of days later, you were busy peacefully going through your night routine when a sudden ping erupted in your room. you fetch your phone, praying to the lords above that whoever was reaching out to you at this late hour has no emergency to deliver. you are seriously tired and crave nothing more than to jump into your bed and sleep for the next couple of days like a parched man in an empty, dry desert.

"yoongi: see you tomorrow, princess."

your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his message. usually, when you or yoongi decide on seeing each other, neither of you texts the other. it just happens like it's the most natural thing in your lives. and truthfully, it has been exactly that ever since you were 13, and he was 15.

"you: huh? did you really have to announce that with a puffed up chest?"

"yoongi: be nice and say hi to your new bodyguard -_-."

your eyes widen at that, quickly dialing his number before attacking him with questions and failed attempts of muffled squeals, leaving him in a smiling mess with pink tinted cheeks that you'll never ever know about.

#yoongi #bts #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #yoongi drabble #min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi imagine #bodyguard yoongi #modern royalty au #agustd

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woncon · 10 months

Text

➳ a stubborn heart

➶ bts x fem!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ you need to choose a future-husband at today's ball. Even if you love seven princes equally. Little do you know, the princes have a plan.

➴ genre: royalty au, fantasy, prince!bts, princess!reader, forbidden love, poly, fluff

: ̗̀➛ warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, but reader has some independence

⌨ :: 2.2K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ thanks to @wonsheep for helping me fix my grammar mistakes and for giving me advice how to convert a whole story into another language precisely °♡̷•.

➳ bts masterlist | main masterlist

➴ a/n: i recommend listening to mdp's boy with luv orchestral cover while reading. i wrote this fic when i listened to it and it's such a masterpiece !

The princess and her father are descending a marble staircase covered with white carpets trimmed with gold. The participants of the ball all look up at and bow to the host. The man smiles and waves, while squeezing his child's properly held hand and whispering:

"Today you have to choose a prince for yourself. If you don't, I'll give your hand to Leopold."

You grit your teeth, trying not to grimace, still smiling softly. King Leopold is sixty-eight years old, he has had two wives. So far, has no successor, but rules a very rich empire not so far from your homeland. To keep peaceful relations, it would be a great deal if your dad made you marry him. But you would never be able to love that figure.

You were saved from this marriage - desired by your father only - by your mother, who convinced her husband to give you a chance of finding a man worthy of you, with whom you can spend your life happily.

This is your last opportunity to do so. Now, when all the possible princes have shown up, when they are waiting for you to give permission to propose.

"Do you understand me?"

You nod, yet you know you won't succeed, no matter how hard you try.

You already gave your heart away.

At the end of the stairs, the prince of the southern kingdom, Namjoon, whom you first met at the January ball, is waiting for you. The man is suave, wise, and has a library of magic in his mind and a seductive cavalcade of emotions in his heart.

He extends his hand and flashes a polite smile. He is donning an ice-blue coat and snow-white gloves. The king happily nods and hands you over to the young gentleman.

Namjoon leads you to the dance floor and doesn't say anything until you start dancing.

"Is this your last ball as an unmarried girl?" he asks in a whisper, probing.

"Yes, I'm afraid..." You let out a sad sigh. Namjoon turns you around and holds you in his arms again. As long as you look into his eyes, the thought of tomorrow is not so painful.

"Have you decided yet?"

"You know I can't."

Ever since you had met him, you had a turn on the dance floor together at every ball. You're titled as friends officially. This way, you can share your doubts and fears, the truth with the man.

That you're in love. Into seven princes at once, and it breaks your heart to choose between them, because you know they all would love you back.

Namjoon nods in understanding and your heart pounds in your throat, waiting for what advice he has to give. Although your companion's lips tremble, they do not form words. He breathes a gentle kiss on your silk-covered palm, then leaves you with your own company.

And you find yourself trapped not only by confusion, but also by another prince. You had met the man in the golden clothes at a ball organized by your family, and you danced almost all night. Pans are very good at music and entertainment.

"Hoseok!" you gently caress his shoulder as you continue from where you and Namjoon left off.

"Did you miss me?" The man smiles playfully, his face already flushed. Warmth spreads in your chest. You try to mentally separate from the strangeness of saying goodbye to your previous partner.

"Of course."

"And would you like to marry me, so that you will never suffer from my absence again?"

"I wish it was that easy." Your upper bodies touch as you take a step closer, hand in hand, as required by the choreography.

"It is that easy," he nods encouragingly. "Didn't Namjoon tell you?"

"Tell me what?" You take the prince's outstretched arm and walk around him.

"If he didn't say anything, I won't, either. Taehyung will fill you in."

"Did you organize something?" A spark of hope flares up in you. "Hoseok, please, ‘fess up!"

But your partner only shakes his head with a sweetly insolent smile, and the dance is over. You bow to each other, Hoseok kisses your hand and leaves.

You look around frantically, wanting to find the aforementioned prince, so that you can get the answer from him. You don't see him, and you don't move, therefore you're asked for a dance again.

"May I?" This time the hand is covered by a green satin glove. The color of nature, charm, elves. And Seokjin is their prince-to-be-married. A beautiful, humorous gentleman who is perfectly worthy of your heart.

You’d be a fool to reject the attractive Seokjin's request, but at the same time, you still don't give up your search for Taehyung with a troubled gaze.

"Have you seen Taehyung?" You ask as you stand on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder. Seokjin furrows his expertly arched eyebrows.

"You wouldn’t just accept his ring instead of my emerald, would you?"

"According to Hoseok, he supposedly has something to say to me."

"Oh," he smiles alluringly. "He has something, indeed."

"If you know, please don't torment me anymore. Tell me!"

"I can tell you, but it comes at a price." He leans to your ear, whispering. "Marry me."

"I wish I could." Your eyelashes flutter longingly. You two link your fingers, go around each other, and Seokjin spins you elegantly around your axis.

When the song is over and Seokjin has said his proper goodbye, you start your journey and break through the crowd. There is no way that the prince of the sirens is not here.

Then you see him - the handsome man dressed in gray, but suddenly another individual grabs your waist, and turns you towards him.

"Princess, you're magnificent." Even the voice of King Leopold is wrinkled as he pronounces these words, glancing at his prospective bridge in appreciation.

Finally, the prince of the mermaids enters the scene, who showed you glowing stones in the depths of the water for the first time, and gave you one, so that you would never forget him. You love him so much that you wouldn’t be able to do that.

"Excuse me, are you free for a dance, princess?" Jimin puts on his most charming smile as he bows and offers a helping hand.

Leopold frowns, reluctantly pulling you closer to him.

"She is dancing with me."

"Did you ask her?"

"Forgive me, Your Majesty." Your heart calms as soon as the king lets you go, and your palm slips between the warm fingers belonging to Jimin. Mermaids don't wear gloves, only bracelets made of small shells that wrap around their middle fingers.

"You could thank me by accepting our offer. You would never have to worry about this man again."

"What offer, Jimin? So far none of you have said anything, you've only hinted at things. If you don't fill me in, I'm afraid I'll pass out from excitement."

"Taehyung wants to tell you." Jimin holds your hips tightly as your back bends towards the ground.

"Then why didn't he come to me yet?"

"As much as we'd all dance the night away with you, there are other princesses and countesses besides you, and they have good taste, just like you."

"Was that a compliment?"

"I tried."

You notice that you're not dancing in unison. Although all of Jimin's movements are impeccable, everything is done to the rhythm, you evade couples in the process, getting closer to Taehyung.

Leopold - determined, in terms of his intentions - is getting closer and closer to you. The next dance form in the evening will be the first waltz. He certainly feels entitled to own your first waltz.

After distancing yourself from Jimin, you hustle in the opposite direction of where Leopold is. Yet a gentle touch lands on your covered wrist. You prepare to shake off the pushy, old king.

"Found you." It's not Leopold, but the prince of the wolves. Even though they have little dancing tradition, he waltzes perfectly and your first waltz at every single ball is his. His moves are dazzling. "May I have this dance?"

"You know it's always yours." You smile with relief as Jungkook pulls you close, and as you get lost in his brown eyes, the surrounding world and everyone in it falls apart.

He is donning a well-tailored red shirt, his jet-black hair hanging slightly in his eyes, and his smile is sweet. He is the same age as you.

"Are you excited?"

"I can't wait to find out what this is all about."

"You don't know yet?" You shake your head. "Then I'll be watching closely to see your reaction. Maybe it’ll be a bit of an unsettling experience, but even sweeter."

"You are all sly, the way you keep secrets from me."

Jungkook laughs. You step in front of and next to each other, in sync and harmony, as you fight the battle of words.

When the song is over, Taehyung can finally take your hand in his. At first you're so excited that you can hardly speak.

"Tell me!" The prince tilts his head. "The plan. Please."

The siren smiles. He can move his lips very charmingly. Near his home, on the beach, he had kissed you. You had almost lost your mind from the beauty, from feeling as if you were the most beautiful woman in the whole world for Taehyung.

"This is your last ball," declares the prince, then he leans closer to murmur the tingly continuation "Because we're running away tonight."

"What?" You step aside, luckily not onto your partner's feet.

But you can't pry for any more explanations at the moment, a short exchange of couples takes place, the male member of the couple dancing next to you grabbing you by the arm, making a circle before you could talk to Taehyung again.

"How?"

"All you need to do is go out to the balcony with Yoongi. He will fly you to his own land, where we will all gather, and from the moment you run away, you'll already be ours."

You'll be theirs. Your body goes numb at the thought that this is indeed possible: you don't have to choose, because you can have them all without your father inflicting a terrible fate on you.

"Hold me tight!" As if all the air had been squeezed out of your lungs. The surprise weighs heavily on your whole being. Euphoria and terror mingle in it - betrayal is being prepared, but for the sake of love.

"That is all I want." Taehyung hugs you, leads you and whispers sweet nothings about the future, begging you to agree. He doesn't know yet, that as soon as you heard the news, you were already in it. You just can't communicate this yet.

The dance is over.

"We’ll see each other again soon, right?" You smile, adjusting the silver seaweed crown on your partner's head, for whom this sparkling look and the hidden hint of the words are enough answers for his question. "Take me anywhere you want, because I am yours. And thank you for being mine."

"Forever." The boy leaves.

You close your eyes, sighing. You want to calm down, you don't want to seem suspicious. You can't screw up your only chance at actual happiness. You are beginning to like the fact that you found out the result of beating around the bush only now. If you had been aware of it before, it's not certain that you would have reached this part of the evening in such a peaceful state of being.

Finally, the prince of dragons, the seventh of your loves, approach you to dance at your last ball, but he notices something about your body.

"You're trembling..." He gently hugs your waist, stopping with you during the movement so that you move a little further on the floor.

Before your first dragon ball, you were afraid of the majestic but terrifying creatures. Until the prince led you into the flower maze and showed you his body covered in night gray scales.

His horns are still twisted towards the sky, but you don't feel even a slight bit of fear around him anymore.

"Did something happen?"

"I think I need some air." Then you lean a little closer, clinging to the other's shoulder with a pleading look. "Take me out of here, please."

Yoongi flashes a satisfied, proud grin, which beautifully paints his often gloomy face. He grabs your waist, holding hands with you, spinning and turning to reach the balcony door.

He opens it for you. The cool summer breeze caresses your bare upper arms, the liberating idea of distance. Yoongi takes your hand again and guides you to the railing, where he stands up himself and helps you - his beloved - up.

The depth is repulsive and attractive at the same time. Your legs are shaking.

"We're going to jump," he murmurs, then reassuringly adds: "Don't be afraid, I'll catch you."

"I trust you," you answer with a nod.

Then you jump, shutting your eyes, without screaming, and in the next moment, you're on a strong dragon's back between the two wings. You cling to the horns.

And you fly in the starlit night towards the land of dragons, freedom and love.

#female reader #fluff #royalty au #poly kpop #poly bts #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x army #SoundCloud #poly bts x reader

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colormepurplex2 · 10 months

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On Wings of Mist & Memories | JJK

▻ On Wings of Mist & Memories ↳ DragonRider!Jungkook x FieldScribe!f.Reader ⤜ Exiled Royalty, High Fantasy AU ⤜ Enemies to Lovers | Angst, smut, fluff ⤜ Rating: MA ⤜ WC: 39,753 ⤜ Summary: You’re a Psion—disguised Field Scribe—of the Golden Kingdom of Bolas, attached to the Front Wing Infantry. After an ambush from the sky rips down the safe walls around you, you find yourself at the mercy of a brutal man, his dragon, and his shadows. ⚠️ Crass language, combat/violence, minor character deaths, talk of war, brief nudity (nonsexual, mostly), sexual references and feelings, flashback minor character death, mild sexual tension, suggestive inner thoughts, lots of sexual tension, crude banter, fingering, kissing, dirty talk, teasing, shadow penetration/sex (it's exactly what you're probably thinking it is: fun af), lots of praise, sexual pleading/begging, endearingly awkward sexual tension, shameless flirting, oral m. receiving, shadow clit play, nipple pinching/teasing, v. sex, mild cum play & eating, multiple orgasms, sad feelings/thoughts of the future, fighting, mild violence, implied minor character death, minor character terminal sickness that leads to off-page death, talk of forced bonds, heartache, pregnancy, off-page childbirth Each chapter will have specific warnings listed.

Chapter 1: Shadowsword

Chapter 2: Oath Breaker

Chapter 3: Burnished Heart

Part of the Bangtan Writers HQ August 2023 “A Love Like War” Writing Event.

A special thank you to @hisunshiine @downbad4yoongi & @peachiilovesot7 for being the best betas!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

Glossary/Map Mave - dragon rider who can wield magic, tethered to the soul of their dragon when they bond (death for both if one dies) Psion - infinite memory/recall Reaver - a dragon that can wield magic, tethered to the soul of the rider they bond (death for both if one dies) Noks - infantry soldiers, humanoids who can enter berserk/rage mode Rider - regular dragon rider, no magic, uses bows or scouts Brute - riderless dragon, usually wild and very dangerous Wielder - magic user, no dragon needed Signis - the designated/specific type of power someone wields Helnite - metal ore that can cut off magic from its user Golden Blight - incurable blood disease

◅ Back to Main Master List ©️ 2023-08 ColorMePurplex2

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook imagines #fantasy jungkook #dragonrider jungkook #bts fantasy au #bts smut #bts angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts enemies to lovers #bts royalty #bts imagines #bangtanwhq

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helenazbmrskai · 2 years

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My Prince Is Charming 2

–Pairing [Prince Jungkook x Servant! Reader]

–Genre [Smut, Royalty AU, Forbidden Relationship AU, Angst]

–Summary [Prince Jungkook corners you after you start avoiding him at the ball that his parents organise to find him a wife.]

–Warnings [smut, vaginal fingering, public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, plot twist at the end]

–Word Count (1k+)

Menu: Masterlist l Be part of my permanent taglist to recieve a notification when I upload a new fic or send an ask!

Author Note. Thank you for showing love to my prince is charming! I hope you will like this second part/drabble.

”M- My prince! You can’t do that here.” Cherry red cheeks are the telltale sign of your embarrassment. Jeongguk wants to kiss your red face. Can’t control himself when he’s in your presence. You looked so beautiful in the custom server outfit that he wasn’t able to keep his eyes away from you for long inside the ballroom. Your pussy is flush and wet when he caresses your outer folds many layers of your skirt are bunched up by his hands to access the treasure between your legs. This is highly inappropriate.

The main focus of the ball is missing – scandalously hunched over in a dark corner with you instead of mingling with the guests and tasting bubbly champagne that you have a few of – untouched on the tray set aside on the nearby available surface when Jeongguk grabbed you and led you to a secluded area despite your protests. It’s not a good look for him to disappear like that when he’s supposed to be choosing a bride. His coronation date is nearing and his parents, the king and queen have been hinting at wanting him to settle down with a princess.

The thought that you have to take the backseat and watch him find a wife and live his happily ever after with her – stopped you from seeing him.

You slept together once but it was enough for you to grow attached and miss what you can’t have for the rest of your pathetic life. It’s only been a few days since you saw him but your heart is hammering away in your chest at his closeness.

His breath hits your face as you release a shaky blow of air from your lungs.

Reality slaps you in the face real soon – he’s real and he’s been wanting to get you alone since the beginning of the event – which makes you suck in a short breath in reciprocation. All the while his fingers are unrelenting in their movements. Getting you wetter.

”Bad girl. You’ve been avoiding me.” The hard lines on his face tell you that he’s annoyed. When you try to apologise he places a firm palm over your mouth.

”Did you open your legs like this for my brother as well?” Prince Jeongguk forces your legs apart guiding you to a stone wall so it can support you.

”Of course not!” You’re getting offended by his remark. Prince Taehyung has been a nice person to serve – always said thank you when you did something for him and he was nothing but polite and pleasant. Nothing like the prince in front of you.

Your eyes grow wide when you realise you said all that out loud carelessly and the prince’s face turns red from anger. It’s not just anger – the flames hold a light of possessiveness in the way he crowds you against the wall.

”Hold it up.” The moment he barks the order his hands let go that you have to catch the fabric before it lands back against your body. You don’t want to anger him more so you let him take his place in between your legs and spread you out in the open without another word uttered. He could feel your excitement – your body is shaking from the adrenaline of the prospect of getting caught but your pussy is wet and needy when he rubs two fingers up and down getting throughoutly coated in your juices.

”You’re going to reassign as my personal maid first thing in the morning. Am I clear?" You shake your head no so he plunges two fingers into your core ruthlessly moving them in and out. It doesn’t hurt as you’re swimming in arousal the stretch burns a little but soon you need to place a palm over your mouth to keep in your obscene noises of pleasure.

The party is still ongoing in the background – closer to where you two are as you would want it to be. You need to remain quiet and pray that no one will come this way and catch you with the prince’s fingers pumping in your pussy.

”No? And why the fuck not?” It’s hot. Hearing the educated prince tell profanities. His cologne makes your head dizzy with want as you squeeze around his fingers.

”I don’t want to see you with anyone else. Please don’t make me endure the pain of having to see you in someone else’s arms.” Jeongguk slows down when he sees the tears brimming in your eyes until his movements completely stop moving.

He finally understands your sudden distant behaviour. The first time someone else showed up when you were supposed to clean his office he was furious. Hurt. You didn’t even tell him that you’re going to be his brother’s attendant. He couldn’t understand why you left with the intent of never coming back to him.

You were hurting too.

”Oh – my sweet Y/N.” Jeongguk cups your cheek with one palm his other hand still nestled inside your heat unmoving even when your walls flutter around the digits wanting more.

”I’ll show you. I’ll show you that there won’t be anyone else.” You’re confused but your brain is empty of thoughts when he moves again, his fingers stroke you deep and slow this time. Take his time with stretching your weeping hole out. He knows your pussy perfectly in and out even if he only got to taste and fuck it only one time before this but his fingers curl at the right angles. Rubs your clit with his thumb since he knows you go crazy when he does that.

He makes you cum around his fingers first before he unbuckles his pants and strokes his cock to full hardness.

You watch him bite his lip to keep in his moans as his hands are wrapped around his length your hands holding up your skirt and waiting for the best moment yet to come. His eyes remain on your quivering hole slicked with your cum and take in your pink tones your clit raw from his thumb playing with it for too long.

Jeongguk doesn’t make you wait any longer – thanks to his own impatience he thrusts into your heat when your sexes align with your guidance. He fills you to the brim with his length and pulls you close with his hands wrapped around your waist. It’s intimate and slow as he fucks you raw, his cock drenched in the mixes of your arousals when he pulls back.

Your hips meet each time he explores your depths – fascinated by how you take him like you were made for it. Made for his cock to sink into your core. Made for his cock to disappear in your body and plant a seed in your womb. Paint your walls in sticky white and create an heir to the throne before time.

”I’ll cum inside you and make you pregnant. You’re going to be my wife and anyone who dares to stop me will pay.”

You're frozen as if his words were striking bolts. Your hold on his shoulders tightens when he empties inside of you – his voice is deep and lust filled when he orders you to keep it all inside.

You let him kiss you as his parent’s heads roll to the floor. Everyone’s shouting: Long live the King.

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts royalty au

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alphabetboyluvr · 11 months

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dance with the devil | jjk

REQUEST | jktaee3 on wp

VIBES | angst, royalty - bridgerton vibes, childhood friends to enemies to ?luvrs?

SOUNDTRACK | die for you - joji

HOLLY'S NOTE | (originally posted april 2023) so fun facts, i've never watched bridgerton. i actually put it on in the background as i was writing, which is where the lil line about being diamond comes from. i also do fuck all world-building in this, so just... use your imagination lol. i have no idea if this is like... correct? i dont read nor write period pieces and haven't done since school so.... go easy on me hahaha <33

also!! went for jeongguk instead of jungkook. feels more dramatic? time appropriate?? idk! mix of eng and Korean inspo for titles / locations!!

WORD COUNT | 2.5k

There are easily a hundred pairs of eyes on you as you walk into the ballroom. Maybe more. The room is grand, gilded in gold—grotesque in its display of wealth, but nothing new to you. You've been in a dozen rooms like this within the last month alone. More money than taste—but you can't buy class.

Despite the influx of unwelcome stares, there's just one you can actually feel. It comes from a pair of deep brown eyes in the corner of the room; a glass of red in one hand, the gloved fingers of your least favourite cousin in the other.

Dark and brooding, Jeon Jeongguk has no right to look at you in the way that he does. Duke of Busan, womaniser of more counties than you care to imagine, he's troubled wrapped up in a waistcoat and ruby-encrusted signet rings.

But you've always liked trouble. Shame.

The grip that Lord Min of Daegu has on your hand tightens. He can notice it too; Jeongguk's stare. Your satin gloves are silky against Lord Min's skin, and he must admit he enjoys being the focus of Jeon Jeongguk's envy. He thinks it's about time that the over-egotistical tyrant of hearts had his comeuppance.

"Remember," Lord Min whispers quietly to you as the crowd watches on. He's a trusted confidant; not suited for marriage. At least not with you. It's the county's worst-kept secret that he retires to the boudoir with Master Park each and every evening. No one at the ball is under any illusion that he is a suitor of yours. "You're a diamond in a mine of sapphires."

"Oh, but sapphires are far prettier than diamonds," you pout, voice dulcet as you scan the room. It's approaching your birthday, and time is running out. A suitor needs to be found, and found promptly. Too much time squandered on frivolous pursuits during your youth had prevented such a search.

It's something you're reminded of whenever your eyes catch Jeongguk's. Endless days spent under beating midsummer sunshine; burnt skin and freckled cheeks. Youth well-spent. Youth wasted.

"So? It matters not." Lord Min smiles. "Diamonds are far stronger. Sharper. And still just as exquisite as sapphires. Do not sell yourself short."

And by that, you know exactly what he implies: steer clear of the Duke of Busan.

It would be a fruitless endeavour. No good would come from it.

Years of your childhood had been spent in a whimsical land with him, full of castles and fairies, and witches and warlocks. Potions had been made in his garden using his mother's best perfumes and items stolen from the pantry; make-believe scenarios came to life in the forest between your family's estates.

Summers had been frittered away together by the sea; Winterton Manor the backdrop of your dreams, your hopes, your fears.

But the Duke did as Dukes so often do; embroiled himself in debauchery and distasteful pleasures.

You had watched on, bemused for the most part, and also intrigued by what compelled him.

Had you not been enough?

Grapevines whisper, and Jeongguk had spent far too much time frolicking in vineyards. Drunk on the delights of his youth, he'd forgotten that there would be life beyond the present.

It's a price he pays, now. A debt he hadn't realised he had racked up.

One that he's reminded of every single time you glance his way. He cannot afford a diamond.

Somehow, however, he can seem to afford the audacity of approaching you in the powder room towards the end of the evening.

You've had lacklustre dances with half a dozen bachelors, and they've all been uninspiring. Only two of them managed to make it through the waltz without stepping on your toes.

Time is running out.

And Jeongguk?

He's running in circles trying to get you out of his head.

Seems apt that he'd bump into you at some point.

Not like he sought you out. Not at all.

Not like he handed the maids by the staircase a few silver coins to divert other partygoers elsewhere, either. He wouldn't dream of doing such a thing.

The Duke of Busan knows you well.

Knows that it takes all of your might to not glance in his direction as he makes his presence known.

"Really?" He asks with a cocked brow and arrogant smirk, leaning against the doorframe. You're preening at your hair. Making sure your pins remain in place. "That's what you chose to wear? To a ball of this grandeur?"

You're wearing white. It's tight against your chest. Too tight. Pleated beneath the satin ribbon under your bust, encrusted with sequins and finished with lace. It's beautiful. Matches the white satin gloves that finish just above the crease of your elbow. You carry yourself with elegance.

In fact, your posture is so well-poised that Jeongguk is the only attendee of the ball who has noticed the split in your skirt. When stood, it is hidden by the pleats. When dancing, it is camouflaged by the lace. When you lift your skirt to meander up the stairs? He becomes reacquainted with the curve of your ankle. The split is no larger than the length of a letter inviting him to tea, but it feels overwhelmingly large.

As far as the Duke is concerned, you may as well be wearing lingerie.

You smooth the skirt of your dress and consider rearranging your tits just to give him something to stare at. You decide against it. Think he would enjoy it far too much.

"Oh precisely," you respond with an equally arrogant grin, before turning to face him. You're haughty in the way you position your body, almost as if you're trying to entice him. "Haven't you heard? I've a suitor to find."

He scoffs. "And you think dressing like a whore is going to find you one of any value?"

A whore.

Very rich of him, you think, as if the entire party doesn't know what he gets up to in the dark. And the daylight. And just about any time of the day, actually.

What they really don't know?

That he used to get up to it with you.

"Absolutely not," you smile. Your father might want you married off, but there's no suitor here for you. Not tonight. If you have to bring a man home, it unquestionably has to be one that your father won't approve of. "That's the point—although, now I come to think of it—this dress did seem to find you, didn't it, Jeongguk?"

He stays quiet for a moment. He doesn't enjoy you being correct. It's part of the reason you bicker so much. You're always correct.

"White really isn't your colour," he tells you with an ambivalent shrug. "We both know that."

Innocence. Purity. Virginity.

For once, The Duke is correct. It really isn't your colour.

Humorous, how he's dressed head to toe in black. Perhaps you should be, too.

"And green isn't yours," you tease, walking towards him. "Yet you seemed to be full of it when I entered the ballroom with the Lord of Daegu."

He remains silent. Can sense you have more to declare.

"Moreover," you hum, proving him right as you pause beside him, "as I'm sure you're well aware, Duke, it's the colour beneath the dress that counts."

"And what is beneath the dress?" Jeongguk husks, not looking over towards you. He doesn't want to let you know how much you affect him, still.

"The same lace that greeted you last summer in the stables of Winterton Manor."

Red. Fuck.

His favourite.

"Tell me, Duke," you tease. He deserves it, you think. "Does the Viscount of Gwangju like red?"

"Hoseok?" Jeongguk scoffs, addressing him by name, not title. The lack of respect shown by the young Duke is asinine, truly. A show of his immaturity. "Despises it."

Truthfully, he has no idea of Viscount of Gwangju's preferences.

"Good," you taunt. "I'm enthralled by the prospect of a challenge."

Jeongguk will be damned if you end up betrothed to the Viscount of fucking Gwangju.

"He concedes easily," he says. This is another lie. He just doesn't want to give you any further ideas. "Do not expect a challenge. Anticipate disappointment."

"Oh, but Duke," you laugh and it's so exquisite that he thinks he might just melt. "Disappointment has always been your forte, has it not?"

During the balls of recent years, where Jeongguk would only ever offer his hand to other women, and never you? Yes. Disappointing.

In the smoky parlours, where he laughs and jokes with the other gentlemen, about which debutantes are simply destined to become spinsters? Oh, incredibly disappointing.

In the drawing room adjacent to his bedroom, while you had waited beneath his sheets for his return, as he was agreeing to court your cousin instead of you? Perhaps the most disappointing he'd ever been.

It's been a year—the worst of your life.

"You've made your bed, Duke. Sleep in it."

"I've tried," he says sternly. He doesn't want to joke any more. Doesn't want to flirt. "I cannot bear to sleep in it without you."

You shake your head. Such a devil.

"You seem well rested enough."

"It's a facade."

And you find yourself quite annoyed; frustrated by his apparent disdain for a life he chose. A destiny brought upon you both by his inability to be discreet—though you're unaware of this caveat.

You see, everyone does know of his reputation, but he always kept your pursuits of passion hidden. Private. To the world, you're pristine.

"What do you require, Duke? My pity?"

He knows he doesn't deserve it.

"I require nothing of you."

"Then seek me out no longer. Do not pursue what you cannot commandeer, Jeongguk."

It's a lesson he would have done well to learn many moons ago; one remembered by you even if it was lost on him.

And yet, at quarter past twelve, as he loosens the black satin bow of his collar in his bedroom, Jeongguk pauses.

A knock has just sounded at his door. His chambermaid, he assumes, just checking on the fire—or maybe Master Park's chambermaid, instead (though Jeongguk's business with Master Park's staff isn't ever entirely 'business').

Regretfully, he thinks it could be Lord Kim Namjoon of Ilsan, here to reprimand him for his manners. His mentor in all fashions, Namjoon is always the first to discipline the young Duke following his nights of debauchery—though all things considered, he feels he's been quite well-behaved tonight.

He sighs as he rests a palm flat against his bedpost, and bellows, "Enter."

A sternness settles on his brows, hard and uncompromising, as he turns to the door. There's a dishevelled nature to his hair, undone and falling slightly over his dark eyes. His loosened collar and unbuttoned waistcoat only aid to make him look even more rugged.

He's marred in vulnerability, though. His pretty pink lips rest ajar, as his eyes fall on the intruder of his thoughts.

Amusing, you think, how the bedroom is where he domineers best, and yet is always where he seems the most unfortified.

Perhaps he hadn't been lying about his facade.

Perhaps he really doesn't sleep well without you.

Perhaps—just perhaps—you might indulge him one last time.

"Tell me, Duke"— You walk into his room and close the door behind you, eyes not leaving his —"Do any of them compare?"

He watches you strut past him and crawl on the luxe quilt on his bed. Oh, how you've missed it.

"Any of who?"

"The maids," you shrug. You aren't naive. You know exactly what he does, and who he does it with. "Master Park's maids? Surely Lord Kim's, too. And the working girls. The debutantes—need I go on?"

"No," he says, watching as you loosen your heels and kick them to the floor. They land with a thud. He knows the noise will have echoed throughout the house. "You needn't."

The truth of the matter is that his escapades are well-known amongst high society. He has a reputation, which is why his courtship with your cousin was forced upon him.

You're surely too good for him, but he's of too much value to remain without an heir.

A marriage is needed for him before the end of the year. His father says so.

Contrarily, your father would never agree to the Duke of Busan proclaiming you as his Dutchess.

Jeongguk knows this, for he's already asked.

Of course he has.

Last spring. Kept his mother's ring in his pocket just in case. A proposal was planned for early summer, before your trip to Paris.

He thought perhaps he would go with you—a pre-honeymoon, maybe—but your father had refused his request for your hand, and who was Jeongguk to go against the will of the man who had raised you?

Jeongguk won't burden you with this knowledge. Your life will be far more fruitful if you remain silently furious with him for never giving you what you deserved.

"And do they?" You enquire once more. unaware of his anguish. "Do they compare?"

Jeongguk leans down to his boots. Unties his laces and stands on his heels to remove them. He kicks them away. Is just as undressed as you are. Equal.

"Do you think my bed would be empty right now if they did?"

"It isn't empty," you tease.

"No," he acknowledges. "But it has been. It's been empty for months."

"Months?"

You don't believe him.

"I've had an empty bed since I returned from Winterton last summer," he declares.

"Though your hands have been full?" You sneer, painfully reminded of the way he'd held the hand of another woman in the ballroom that evening. You've had to bear witness to it on multiple occasions by now. It never gets any easier. Your fucking cousin, of all people.

"Pay no mind to the fact my hands have not been empty in ballrooms," he speaks quietly, shame washing over his features. Yes, it would be far more desirable if you were to be furious with him, but he wants to alleviate the hurt that you are quite clearly encumbered with. "As I said, it's a facade."

"Why? What are you hiding, Duke?"

As if you don't know—he laments—that I'm utterly besotted with you.

He glances away from you to watch the fire as it crackles in his hearth. He wonders if it would be less painful to tear his heart from his chest and roast it in the flames, than it is to be in love with you.

"I hide nothing from you," he says with a broad smile as he turns to face you once more. Jeongguk is adept at falsifying his discretions. "But I am without at a dance."

You grin, now. "A dance?"

"I'd love one," he smirks as he holds out his hand. He twists your words almost as elegantly as he used to twist you around on empty ballroom floors; just two of you after the parties had died down and the revellers had hung up their dancing shoes.

He strides to the side of the bed. Satisfaction sinks into his features when your gloved hand slips into his palm. He pulls you up. Pulls you closer. Rests a hand upon your waist and positions himself perfectly for you. He was raised a gentleman after all, even if grew up to be a rogue.

"May I have this dance?" He says quietly, only needing to whisper.

You're so close you probably count the beat of his heart.

One, two.

Does anyone dance better than I do?

Three, four.

Do you lose your breath when someone else draws you closer?

Five, six.

I could dance with you forever.

Seven, eight.

Would that be agreeable?

Nine, ten.

As if you can read his thoughts, you just nod.

"You may."

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jk ff #jungkook ff #royalty au #royal bangtan #bangtan ff #jungkook angst #jjk fic #jungkook x reader #bridgertonxbangtan #bridgerton #bts #ahhhhh i still hate tagging #free me from this HELL #enjooooyyyyy x #byholly

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kooloveys · 2 months

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HELP FIND THIS FIC!! 🎀

I’m looking for this fic where reader is a princess who’s ‘fallen’ into jungkooks world and jungkook has a daughter, they see reader hanging off a sign while driving and take her to their house + one of the other members (I forgot sorry!) to look after her. Reader is looking for her prince jimin (got separated when they fell into this world) but jungkook thinks she’s a crazy princess cosplayer or something, jungkook has a partner but he and reader get heated and then he lashes out. He yells at reader abt jimin and how she can’t run away w him and Fall in love if she’s onyl known him for such a short time blah blah blah. In the end jungkook shows up to the other members house to apologize to reader but she already found and left with prince jimin,

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foxymoxynoona · 13 days

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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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