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Chapter Text

Three Days before coronation

The bannermen’s announcement of the Min family’s arrival sent the palace into chaos. Servants rushed to ensure that the rooms were prepared with fresh rose oil, flowers and exotic fruit from lands far away. They were early—a day early in fact and no one was quite prepared as yet. This was a historic occasion after all, being the first time a royal Min was stepping into the Kim palace in almost a century. And not just any royal, but the crown prince Min Yoongi, first and last son, set to sit on his father’s throne in a few months. The sole male heir to the Min family, a royal clan steeped in history and glory. But, a dwindling clan nonetheless. Min Yoongi’s death would bring about an end to the famous line and it would be a great loss—to some.

Yet this was not the greatest scandal surrounding the Min family. Instead, whispers of the Min matriarch floated through the Kim palace, carried in the pockets of servants and landing in the laps of royals. The royal matriarch had taken ill after her husband’s death in battle. In fact, some claimed, she had gone insane, incapable of leaving their home. As a result, only their son had come to witness the coronation of the crown prince of Yeosu.

The heir of the Min family was in a perilous position, with his father dead and his mother a shell of her former self, so struck by grief she could barely look at him. His journey to the Kims’ was important. A chance to broker deals, a chance for protection from the powerful kingdom in the south. A chance to make peace with the family that had once slaughtered his own.

The royal Kim palace was the definition of opulence, much like its residents. There was gold speckled everywhere, tall windows, smooth wooden floors with beautiful designs that stretched on for meters and meters, tall wooden doors with lion head handles (in gold of course).

Yoongi tried his best not to feel intimidated as he stood in the grand throne room, fiddling with the silver bracelet his grandmother had gifted him on his thirteenth birthday. He knew he couldn’t afford to feel like this, not when he was from one of the rarest and most powerful bloodlines. But his family was dying off and his home had been rampaged years ago. Such displays of wealth were foreign to him. Though his family was of royal blood, they could ill afford such displays of wealth. They were comfortable, their palace a stone structure with simple wooden floors, no flowing silks, not to mention fucking freezing in the winter. Yoongi though, was smart enough to not let his intimidation show, pushing down his fears and letting anger rise. Anger kept him sane, motivated and ambitious.

“Shit,” Jeongguk whistled next to Yoongi. “This place really is as amazing as they say it is.”

“It’s not bad,” Yoongi murmured.

“Not bad?” Jeongguk said rather loudly, attracting the attention of a guard. Yoongi elbowed him in the stomach without looking at him.

They stood in the throne room, where the king had once sat, and now his prince would sit upon it come coronation day, three nights from now. A new king to rule over a kingdom. A new king to terrorise the Min family’s lands.

“Sorry, hyung.”

Suddenly the doors burst open and the crown prince sauntered in from a side door and onto the raised dais. For a brief moment, Yoongi’s heart stopped and immediately kicked off again. There he was, the man who represented everything Yoongi hated, dressed simply, no jewels, no crown, just dark hair combed back, plump lips and pretty eyes, a red silk robe embroidered with fine gold at the sleeves untied and flowing. Yoongi swallowed before he bowed low and grand, staying there until he was told to do otherwise.

“Please, Yoongi. You are just as much a prince as I am. No need to bow.” His voice was lower than what Yoongi remembered, tinged with something behind it, like he was laughing.

Yoongi looked up at him and tried to match his smile.

Kim Seokjin. Royal Crown Prince of Yeosu.

Still as blindingly handsome as Yoongi remembered from when they had chased each other in a meadow near his parent’s home in the north.

Kim Seokjin. The man he was here to kill.

“Exalted,” Yoongi bowed once again, ignoring Seokjin’s familiar tone. “It’s an honour to be invited into your home.”

Next to him, Jeongguk bowed just as grandly.

He heard Seokjin laugh. “Yoongi, I know it has been ten years but there really is no need to pretend we never bathed together or shoved each other in mud.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his cheeks flare. Once upon a time, him and Seokjin or ‘Jinnie’ had spent weeks together in Yoongi’s parents home. The king and his emissary had visited, along with Seokjin’s two brothers, to negotiate for peace and land. It had almost gone well until it hadn’t, and a general was murdered. The Kim family had swiftly left in the middle of the night and it was the last time Yoongi had seen his Jinnie, crying his eyes out when his mother told him the news. The two boys had not known the bitter rivalry between their parents then. Instead, they had made fast friends, falling into each other completely as they played through the humble castle that belonged to the Mins.

Perhaps for those two weeks, him and Seokjin had been friends.

“And please,” Seokjin grinned cheekily. Something that had not changed about him. Always playful, even in the worst of moments. “I prefer hyung.”

Yoongi set his jaw, not sure what to say. The last thing he wanted was to have Seokjin as his ‘hyung’ but if his plan was to go well, then he needed to grin and bear.

If all went well, he would be out of the palace in a few days. Seokjin would be dead and the Kims would be in chaos before they figured out he was responsible.

“Of course,” Yoongi smiled. “Jin-hyung.”

Jin kept the grin on his face as he turned his attention to Jeongguk who looked a little starstruck, his big eyes wide and unblinking. Of course, Yoongi thought. His cousin was unfortunately not immune to pretty faces.

“And is that little Kookie?”

Jeongguk had been an infant when Jin had visited the north all those years ago and now he looked like a man. Tall with lean muscles and big doe eyes. Worryingly strong and skilled.

“Yes, Exalted,” Jeongguk bowed once again. “It is an honour to be received so graciously in your home.”

Jin grinned at him, almost looking fond. “Please, Jeongguk, call me hyung too.”

Jeongguk being the mess that he was nodded before bowing again. “Yes Exal—hyung.” He smiled shyly, pink dusting his throat and Yoongi almost smacked the back of his head.

“You will be shown to your chambers by my personal servant, Jimin.” Seokjin eyed a small boy standing in the far left of the room who Yoongi hadn’t noticed until now. He had a dangerously pretty face, Yoongi noted. The kind of face that got both men and women into trouble. He was also dressed nothing like a servant. Simple like Seokjin but the fabric obviously expensive, gold rings on his fingers, and earrings dangling from his ears. “You are a day early so the festivities will only begin tomorrow. However, you are more than welcome to join my brothers and I for dinner?” Seokjin paused. “I’m sure they would love to see you again. Joonie always had a soft spot for you.”

Yoongi looked at Jeongguk, who in turn looked at him. They were so used to being around each other. Days of tutoring and training. Jeongguk with his sword and Yoongi with his daggers. Where Jeongguk was stronger, Yoongi was faster. By now, they communicated through a kind of telepathy.

“Thank you, hyung but it has been a long  journey and I believe my cousin and I would much prefer to turn in early.” He stopped, realising who he was speaking to. “If it does not offend you.”

Jin nodded quickly, eyes understanding and that small unassuming smile on his face. “Of course,” he amended. “Forgive me for being so inconsiderate. Perhaps breakfast tomorrow then.” It wasn’t a question. He turned to his servant. “Jiminie, make sure their baths are run.”

Jimin bowed slightly, unsmiling. “Of course, Exalted.” His eye landed on Yoongi’s. “Follow me, please, your grace.”

Jimin headed towards the tall wooden doors, flanked by two royal guards, armed with swords and blank faces. Yoongi had only travelled with Jeongguk along with two servants and his personal guard slash best friend Hoseok. It was a small group and would be considered an insult by some. The talk in the palace would state that he should have travelled with his uncles and servants. His own uncle, Sejin had advised him to do so, but Yoongi was making a point; Yeosu meant nothing to the North and they weren’t going to make a fuss for the coronation.

Seokjin’s parents had killed his people and now his father was dead.  An insult such as this was justifiable.

After they had bowed and been dismissed, Jimin walked out of the doors first. He walked gracefully, like a dancer from his father’s court, incredibly light on his feet. “Your companions have been shown to their quarters, your grace. They will be in the East Wing. Should you wish to access them, please notify one of the guards and he will accompany you to there.” Jimin nodded at the guard next to him. His voice was soft, but confident, comfortable in a duty he must have carried out a million times.

After a few moments, Jeongguk’s brain told him he had been quiet for too long. “You aren’t dressed like a servant,” he said as they walked through then hallway, jasmine scented incense floating past them.

Yoongi almost choked on his saliva. Honestly Jeongguk and his mouth.

Jimin didn’t turn for a second, not breaking his stride nor faltering. Instead he simply said, “Being a servant does not equal poverty nor forced submission. I simply choose to serve my future king, Jeongguk-ssi and I choose to do so whilst dressed well.”

Yoongi took in a sharp breath and noticed Jeongguk’s ears go red. “I see,” the younger murmured  sounding terribly embarrassed. “Forgive me for be—”

Jimin rose a little hand, finally turning back to Jimin and smiling sweetly at him. The kind of smile that did not reach someone’s eyes. “I’m not offended, Jeongguk-ssi. I am not sure how your servants dress in the North but we do things a little differently here.”

There was an insult in there somewhere , Yoongi thought but did not open his mouth to retort. Clearly Jimin held a quiet power that Yoongi was suddenly curious about.

He needed to know all his obstacles before he attempted anything.

Finally, after taking a left in a narrow hallway, with coral stone walls, Jimin paused in front of a wooden door. “Your grace, these will be your chambers. This is the finest room in the palace after the royal princes’ rooms.” The guard swung open the door. “The Exalted wants you to feel at home in the palace. Your visit is historic after all.”

Yoongi stepped in and he was met by two servants. One male and one female. They bowed in unison when they saw him. Yoongi bowed back and their eyes went wide, immediately looking at Jimin like they were not sure what to do. As if coming to some sort of conclusion, they bowed once again.

“I won’t be needing them,” Yoongi said to Jimin quickly. He could take care of himself thank you very much. He wanted nothing from the Kims. Sleeping in their bed already made him worry. Who knew what servants could hear and see.

Jimin arched an eyebrow. “Surely you’ll need them for your—”

“I can dress myself,” Yoongi said with what he hoped was a polite smile. “Perhaps not run my own bath, as I have no idea where to fetch the water, but I can bathe myself too.

Jimin opened his mouth before tilting his head, still looking confused. “No,” he said slowly. “I mean for your pleasure, your grace.”

For a moment, Yoongi had no idea what that meant, then it clicked when Jeongguk giggled next to him. Suddenly, his ears burnt as Jimin looked at him curiously.

“Oh,” Yoongi murmured, cheeks warming as Jimin continued to analyse him. The younger man clearly had a knack for making men blush and Yoongi was his new victim. It made sense why there was both a woman and man here. Now that Yoongi looked at them, they were both interestingly attractive, dark haired and rare double-lids. His mouth went dry. Yoongi rarely felt flustered but this was one of those moments and he had no idea what to do.

“Yoongi has sworn a vow of chastity, Jimin-ssi. He won’t be needing them.”

Yes, Yoongi was definitely going to kill Jeongguk. Jimin arched an eyebrow, looking unimpressed.

“He’s joking,” Yoongi amended quickly. “But all the same, I won’t be needing them. Thank you.”

Jimin looked like he wanted to ask more but he said nothing else, nodding at the servants who quickly scurried out of the room. “Very well, your grace.” He turned to Jeongguk. “Please follow me to your chambers, Jeongguk-ssi.”

Jeongguk nodded. “See you later, hyung?”

Yoongi gave him a small nod and Jeongguk followed Jimin out the door, leaving Yoongi to finally analyse the room.

His trunk was already in the room, luckily untouched. The theme of the room seemed to green and white with splashes of colour, like an orchard. For a moment, Yoongi stood there, admiring the room. It was way nicer than his own in the north. More practical, less open space to keep the warmth in during harsh winters. On the other hand, the Royal Palace of Yeosu was stunning. Full of colour and light. Coral stone walls, silk and beautiful embroidery everywhere he turned. The wooden partition leading to the bath expertly carved. Yoongi almost wanted to enjoy the luxury of it as he breathed in the jasmine fluttering in the air.

As he made his way to his trunk and clicked it open, he was greeted by rolls of materials and clothes, before rummaging through them to find a bright red silk cloth. He looked at it for a moment, taking a deep breath. He hadn’t even noticed his increased heart rate. This was dangerous, but he was here now and he couldn’t exactly pull out. He had been imagining this day since news of the coronation arrived in the north in the shape of a nobleman under the palace guard.

Yoongi ran his hand against the silk, sighing. Under it were his two silver daggers, sharp and murderous, gleaming in the candlelight. Their hilts were a simple black, fashioned by two silver dragons, the Min family crest. They had once belonged to his father. He too had been a master of the blades, swift and deadly. The first person to ever teach Yoongi about them.

He felt something knot in his chest as he analysed them. He had never been close to his father, but this was the one thing the old man had taught him. How best to puncture a lung.

Yoongi flipped one dagger in his hand swiftly. Seokjin would be at the end of it soon enough.

“Are you sure you still want to do this?” Hoseok asked from across Yoongi’s room. He was leaning against the window, pants tight around his thighs and a loose white shirt billowing in the early evening breeze. For a moment, Yoongi was transported back to a time when he had looked at Hoseok with a certain determination, announcing to his mother that he was the man he was going to marry.

Hoseok hadn’t returned Yoongi’s affections and as a little nine year old boy, Yoongi had been heartbroken. His mother had made him tea and sang him to sleep that night with a soft smile on her lips, telling him that one day he would find someone who liked him just as much.

Now, Yoongi looked at Hoseok with a new kind of admiration. His best friend was an excellent archer, athletic and everyone in his father’s court loved him. He had been born to a palace servant, who had died as she gave birth to him. Yoongi’s father had taken him in, just as he had taken Jeongguk in after his parents died in a fire.

All three of them knew death too well and in a strange way, it bound them together. Picking up whatever broken pieces the other left behind. Swearing loyalty so fierce, there’d be no hesitation to die for one another. In a way, it was Yoongi’s greatest weakness and strength.

Yoongi nodded, playing with his pocket knife. “Of course I am.”

Hoseok looked unconvinced. “You are in the royal palace of fucking Yeosu, hyung. There are guards everywhere. The moment you kill Seokjin is the moment you die too. And if you don’t die then a war will definitely start. They will wipe us all out.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at Hoseok. Despite not cluing Jeongguk in on his plans, Hoseok knew (in part), in case things did go awry and he needed him to whisk Jeongguk as far away from Yeosu as possible. The possibility of inciting a war was possible but Yoongi had a plan to avoid that. Hoseok just needed to trust him.

“Don’t worry, Hoseokie. Hyung knows what he’s doing.”

Hoseok regarded Yoongi for a long moment, looking unconvinced. The sun outside had fallen behind the clouds, the pinkish glow colouring the side of Hoseok’s face.  “That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”

Yoongi sat on the plush bed with lush green pillows. He didn’t want to share all his plans with the younger. The less both him and Jeongguk knew, the better. It would be easier for them to walk away when the time came.

Yoongi hadn’t come here expecting to leave. 

“Just trust me, Hoseokie. Get some rest and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Hoseok shut his eyes for a moment, breathing heavily. “I hope you know what you’re doing, hyung because if you die, I’ll kill you myself.”

Yoongi smirked in return. Better to feign confidence, even though he was deathly terrified of everything. He was afraid of what he had to do. Afraid of this royal palace that was built on blood and suffering.

“We are dining with the prince and his brothers tomorrow morning. Dress appropriately.”

Hoseok let out a snort before stepping away from the window. “Dining with royalty, how fun,” Hoseok muttered ominously.

Yoongi made a face. “You dine with me?”

Hoseok returned the look. “It’s just you, hyung.”

At that, Yoongi threw a pillow at him and Hoseok laughed loudly before bowing dramatically. “Have a good evening, Exalted. Prince of princes. May you dream of angels singing.”

“Fuck off, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smirked and walked to the door before turning to Yoongi, looking serious. “Please be careful, hyung. And make sure Jeonggukie doesn’t find out.”

Yoongi nodded and Hoseok spared him a last glance before walking out into the hallway, leaving Yoongi to wonder.

After bathing in the warm water, the guard called a servant to empty the metal bath. It wasn’t a servant from earlier. He ventured to find Jeongguk who was not far from his own room. The young boy was already passed out on his bed when Yoongi walked in, looking peaceful and quiet. Yoongi smiled warmly at his favourite cousin. They had been together since he could remember. Jeongguk always protecting him and him protecting Jeongguk. Yoongi would be damned if something happened to him. And yet as he slept that night, daggers under his pillow, he realised he had just bought Jeongguk to a dangerous palace and the boy had no idea that his cousin had every intention to murder the crown prince.

Breakfast with the Kims was no small affair. Yoongi, Hoseok and Jeongguk walked into the grand living room, lit by the early morning sun, beautiful scents fleeting through the room. A multitude of servants had prepared the table in the centre of the room, large window open to let the summer air in, white curtains billowing in the breeze, the hint of blooming cherry blossoms in the air.

The servants stood at each window, dressed simply in white, but not as well as Jimin was dressed the night before, confirming Yoongi’s thoughts that Jimin was not a simply a servant, but someone of higher rank.

The table was adorned with fruit, banchan, a variety of kimchi dishes and rice along with figs and soups. Yoongi could practically feel Jeongguk salivating next to him. Hoseok’s eyes were wide as he looked at the abundance of food and Yoongi’s stomach grumbled.

Seated on a plush cushion by the table, crossed legged, was a sleep eyed boy, brown haired with pretty features, what Yoongi imagined the fairies from his mother’s stories looked like. He slowly glanced at the new arrivals, silk robe loosely tied around his frame and a curious look on his face, eyes blinking sleepily.

“Ah, you must be—”

Just then, who Yoongi recognised as Namjoon sauntered in from behind them. He was tall, almost six-feet and imposing, with the most unique face Yoongi had ever seen, sporting a wide dimpled smile.  

“Hyung?” Namjoon asked with a wide smile, foregoing any formalities. “Yoongi-hyung? It has been years! Jin-hyung told me you were here but I didn’t expect to see you until the welcome celebrations this evening.”

Namjoon had been small but old enough to remember when his family visited the Min’s home. He had been a sweet kid, always following Jin and Yoongi around, but now he was tall and every bit a prince.

For a moment, Yoongi felt self-conscious about his own small frame.

“It’s good to see you, my prince.” Yoongi bowed. Despite Namjoon being younger, he was still higher in rank. From a better and richer family and Yoongi had to be careful not to overstep, despite everyone assuming they were all old friends.

Namjoon quickly held his shoulder and pulled Yoongi up. “No need for that.” He kept a hold of Yoongi’s shoulder. “It’s nice to see you.”

He moved his eyes to Jeongguk and Hoseok and grinned widely, eyes kind. “Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk nodded a little before Namjoon turned to Hoseok. “You must be Hoseok.” He made a small bow and Hoseok blushed, waving a hand to stop him.

“You are all welcome. It’s an honour to dine with anyone from the Min family. I’m sure Jin-hyung would agree.”

“I would agree?” Jin’s voice came from behind just as Namjoon finished his sentence.

Jimin walked behind him, shooting Yoongi a careful look as he walked past. Jin looked impeccable as always. Not a hair out of place, covered in a patterned silk robe.

“That we are happy to welcome hyung into the palace,” Namjoon offered with a smile.

Jin nodded enthusiastically. “Of course.” He waved a hand. “Please let’s eat before the food gets cold. I’m starving.”

He gestured toward the table where the other boy was still sitting, looking at the scene curiously. Yoongi figured he was the last Kim. When they had visited the north, he was small, and never left his mother’s side clinging onto her constantly, eyes wet with tears. Yoongi couldn’t remember if he had ever uttered a single word to the boy.

As they all took their places on the plush cushions around the table, Yoongi looked at the youngest Kim, who tilted his head curiously, just as Jimin came up behind him and whispered something in his ear.

The boy nodded and looked at Hoseok and Jeongguk before his eyes landed on Yoongi once again.

“Your grace,” he bowed his head. “It’s wonderful to have you in our home.”

Yoongi bowed in turn. “Thank you,” he said lightly. “I don’t know if you remember, but we’ve met, Taehyung.”

Taehyung smiled a little, but just like Jimin, his smile did not reach his eyes. “Yes, before one of our generals was killed by your people.”

The room suddenly went silent. Even the servants looked struck. There was a loud clatter from somewhere, perhaps a servant dropping something.  Jimin who stood behind Taehyung pursed his lips.

No one had been expecting such an early reference to their families, but clearly, Taehyung didn’t give a fuck.

“Taehyung-ah,” Namjoon said carefully, looking at the younger with a pointed face.

Taehyung arched an eyebrow at his brother. “Perhaps I misspoke.” He looked back at Yoongi and gave him that smile once again. “It’s an honour to be in your presence, your grace.”

The words meant nothing and for a moment, Yoongi had no idea what to do. He looked at Jin who had picked up his chopsticks and was already serving himself a bowl of kimchi. “Don’t mind him,” Jin laughed lightly, completely unbothered. “He’s just a brat. I try scolding him but mother spoiled him too much.”

Yoongi tried to laugh but it came out awkward and looking back at Taehyung, there was a lot more to him than just being a brat. He smiled at him instead as Jin called for the rice and Namjoon dove into a conversation with Hoseok.  For the rest of the meal, they talked loudly as boys would, but something had settled in the pit of Yoongi’s stomach as he watched Hoseok and Namjoon bump each other’s shoulders and Hoseok promise to teach him archery. He wasn’t sure what the feeling was, but when he looked up at Jimin who was standing, mouth in a line, observing the scene carefully, he knew it wasn’t just Jin he needed to worry about.

 “He’s smaller than I thought he’d be,” Jimin said as he adjusted Jin’s embroidered collar. “Less threatening too.”

The first families had already arrived at the palace and the entire day had been a flurry of announcements and arrivals. Jin hadn’t bothered to meet any of them yet. It would be unbecoming according to his uncles and advisors. They would see him when he walked into the hall this evening. Bow to their soon-to-be-king and chant his name.

Excitement rippled through Jin’s body. He had been waiting for this moment all his life. As the oldest Kim, he had always been treated different from his brothers. Where they had regular tutoring, he had to be a swordsman, an archer—smart and cunning always. He constantly had to be ready for any attempts on his life, though such a thing would be futile. His mother had bore three Kim sons, a king, a spare and a spare for the spare. It was terrible to think of his brothers like that, but that’s all they were in the eyes of the nobles and that’s the way they treated them, especially Taehyung. Too many sons to kill before they could get their dirty hands on the throne.  

For a moment, Jin wondered how Yoongi handled it, being the sole male heir to a once powerful kingdom.

“There must be something about him if he has managed to stay alive all these years,” Jin said, looking in the mirror before him. Jimin moved behind him to retrieve a jewelled box.

Another servant, whose name Jin didn’t remember arranged the candles in the room carefully, and renewed the incense in the censers quietly, hearing and seeing nothing that did not concern them. Jimin handed Jin his jade ring. “Are you worried about him?” Jimin’s voice was quiet, a voice, Jin noted, he saved only for him.

Jimin had always been the servant Jin trusted. On his sixteenth birthday, Jimin had been gifted to him by a distant uncle and nobleman from Jindo. Jin knew what the intentions of the gift were. He would practice how to be a man with Jimin for his future wife. But taking one look at Jimin, calm and collected, even as a young boy, Jin knew he had better use for his pretty new toy.

He had never touched Jimin.

Jin shrugged, walking away from the mirror. “I’m as weary of him as I am of the next person. The next few days are going to be interesting, but I’ve been preparing for this all my life. I know there are a people in my own court who are unhappy about me being the new king”

“Still,” Jimin said, still watching Jin carefully. “He’s angry. That’s pretty clear.”

“Anger makes people make mistakes.”

Next to him, Jimin sighed rather loudly, looking exasperated, which always seemed to thrill Jin for some reason. “I fear you might be underestimating this situation, Exalted.”

A small smile appeared on Jin’s lips. “Don’t worry Jiminie. The Min family is inconsequential. There are bigger problems at hand.”

“That may be so but...” He paused thinking about something. “I had Yuna and Ji Woo look through his trunk yesterday. They found daggers under a silk sheet. Daggers with the family crest on them. It might be for safety or—”

“He could use them to slit my throat,” Jin finished with a dark look in his eyes.

Jimin nodded.

Jin was quiet for a few moments, considering this new little piece of information. Yoongi meant nothing to him. Once upon a time, his family had been important but his father had made sure that wasn’t the case anymore, cutting the legs right off that little kingdom in the north. Perhaps Jin felt a little bad for him. Yoongi no longer had anyone, save for the bright eyed Jeongguk and his friend Hoseok, who Namjoon had taken a liking to.

Finally Jin turned to Jimin and shrugged, running a hand through his dark hair. “Not if I slit his throat first.”

Jimin took in a sharp breath. “That could start a insurrection. Whether you like it or not, there are families still loyal to the Mins. Families within your council.” Jimin paused, hearing himself getting worked up. Seokjin like this was the worst kind of Seokjin. “You aren’t your father.”

That made Jin wince. His mouth fell in a hard line but Jimin was undeterred. Other people would have slapped Jimin for that, but Jin rarely lost his temper with him anyway, plus he knew his servant was right. His father had been wicked, that part was clear, but he was a powerful man, feared through his kingdom.

Respected.

Mercy does not conquer kingdoms, Seokjin.

Those were his words and he had been right.

“Mercy does not conquer kingdoms, Jiminie. If Yoongi makes the wrong move, he will die. Just as anyone else would.”

Jimin pursed his lips then opened his mouth, no doubt to dispute the issue further, but Jin quickly cut him off. “You should check on Taehyung. Gods know what he is doing right now.”

Closing his mouth, Jimin spared Jin one last look, clearly annoyed, before bowing dramatically. “Yes, Exalted.”

Jin waited for the doors to close behind him before looking back in the mirror. Once upon a time, him and Yoongi had been friends, even if it had been brief. But it was time for him to be a king now and men like Min Yoongi—no matter how much the world had wronged them, were disposable in the grand scheme of things.

Jin smiled and adjusted his robes. He had never been one to shy away from a little blood.

Chapter Text

Two nights before coronation

Yoongi watched on as Jin appeared on the raised stairway that dipped into the grand hall that all the nobles and royals stood in. A loud gong rang through the room, calling all of its patrons to silence. An announcer dressed in elaborate traditional clothing of twisting silks and starched collars cleared his throat, flames dancing in his eyes and smoke from the ginger-lily incense floating through the air.

“Exalted. Prince of princes. The Royal Crown Prince of Yeosu!”

At that, the entire room fell to its knees, noblemen and royals alike, falling at their feet for their soon to be king. After a moment, Yoongi rose his head slightly to see Jin at the top of the small stairway, smiling down at the gathered nobles. His new subjects.

“You may rise!” The announcer called after a few moments, leading the men and women in the luxurious hall to stand and look upon the heir apparent. For many, it was the first time laying their eyes on Seokjin and it was obvious what they were all thinking. How handsome Seokjin was and how tall, with youthful features and trustworthy eyes. A spitting image of his father in his youth.

Women giggled and whispered as he descended down the small stairway gracefully, taking time to smile and greet everyone, leaving old men blushing with his simple charm.

Behind him was Jimin, head held high, not meeting anyone’s eyes and a few steps behind were Seokjin’s brothers, Namjoon and Taehyung. Namjoon was smiling and Taehyung was too, but he seemed uncomfortable under all the prying and curious gazes. Perhaps he understood that to many people, him and Namjoon represented obstacles to the coveted throne.

A few moments later, music began to play again as Seokjin took his place near the raised dais on the far side of the room which was decorated with peonies for good luck and enough food and wine to feed a small village. He smiled at the guests, who amounted to about fifty and bowed slightly as each passed to give their congratulations or to introduce themselves.  

“Thank you for making time to visit our beautiful city, Yeosu, and coming to witness my coronation. It is truly an honour to have all of you present and I know my father and mother would have enjoyed seeing old friends. Perhaps some were enemies before but I do hope this occasion marks a new beginning for us all.” He paused to look around the room carefully with those sparkling dark eyes. For a moment, they met Yoongi’s, and Yoongi could tell the knowing smirk that appeared on Jin’s lips. “So, please drink and be happy, for tonight is a night of celebration.”

There was a loud cheer from the crowd and Jin bowed in response as his brothers joined him, smiling at the crowd and whispering amongst themselves.

As usual, red and gold were the theme, dragons painted with intricate detailing on the walls, expensive silks flowing in abundance, candlelight dancing against the walls casting menacing shadows through the room. There was an abundance of flowers, camellias and lotus floating in rose oil and it was clear Yeosu was sparing no expense. The smell of incense mixed with rice wine was intoxicating and somewhere in the distance, the sound of drums and the pretty string erhu and guzheng had begun to play.

“I shouldn’t have expected any less,” Hoseok said looking around. Jeongguk nodded along, watching the gathered families as they whispered to each other about the same thing. “Everything seems so over the top.”

“We are in Yeosu, hyung. Of course they are spending a shit ton of money” Jeongguk said, eyes falling to the table where Jin and his brothers sat. “Jin hyung looks handsome in those robes.”

This time Yoongi rolled his eyes. “He looks fine.”

The last thing Yoongi needed was for Jeongguk to fall for the man he had specifically come to kill. In his boot, Yoongi had stuck a small blade. It was unlikely he would get the opportunity to do it tonight but having the security in a palace like this was important. One could never be sure with wolves disguised as noblemen.

Next to him, Hoseok looked a little uncomfortable. “He is heavily guarded, isn’t he?” he asked to no one in particular. Yoongi looked around, spotting the several guards with sheathed swords surrounding the room, faces stoic and unflinching in heavy armour despite the warm evening.

Hoseok’s eyes fell on Yoongi pointedly. Yoongi swallowed, reading the message loud and clear. Hoseok was not on board with Yoongi’s plan and he was going to fight him at any given moment, without making it too obvious to Jeongguk.

Something strange settled at the pit of his stomach as he looked back at the raised dais where the princes had settled and were laughing among themselves, whilst Jimin had disappeared off somewhere. “I’m going to mingle,” Hoseok announced picking up his rice wine from their chabudai and winking at the two.

Before Yoongi could protest, Hoseok was already making his way through the sea of nobles to Namjoon. For a moment, Yoongi watched them, unable to believe his eyes.

“They already seem pretty comfortable,” Jeongguk noted. “Should we be worried?”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say as he looked at the younger. He didn’t want to alarm him. Jeongguk did not need to be involved in any of this. He couldn’t make Hoseok befriending Namjoon a big deal, yet it was. Hoseok knew why they were here, yet he was making it a point to be around Namjoon.

“I don’t think so. Namjoon seems nice.”

Jeongguk nodded and his eyes fell on their table. “Yeah, he does.”

Yoongi swallowed deeply. “Taehyung-ssi seems strange though,” Jeongguk continued, tearing his eyes away from Jin.

Yoongi hadn’t quite gotten a read on the youngest Kim.

When it came to Seokjin, it was easy to see that behind the smile was an ambitious man willing to guard his throne no matter what.

Namjoon seemed innocent, uninterested in court activity from what Yoongi had observed.

But Taehyung, Yoongi simply had no idea.

“So is Jimin,” Yoongi offered.

For a moment, Jeongguk was silent, observing the room as noblemen mingled and drank loudly. “Clearly there are lot of strange people in this court.”

“Which is why we need to be careful, Gguk.”

Jeongguk smirked, taking a sip of his own wine before backing away from Yoongi. “You’re too paranoid, hyung. You should really learn to loosen up.” He bowed mockingly. “I’m going to make some friends, you should too.”

With that, he walked away, leaving Yoongi alone in the centre of the room, watching as noblemen approached the royals and tried their best to impress them with stupid stories about nothing, anything to be in the favour of Yeosu.

Anything to be in the favour of Jin.

As the evening continued, the music growing more hypnotic, the strings on instruments dragging, the candles melting, the laughing louder, Yoongi busied himself with talking with old nobles who had once been friends with his father.

A few of them were still loyal to the Min clan and sorry to see it dwindle into nothingness. Some weren’t, but they pretended anyway, smiling at Yoongi and recalling their visits up north and asking if Yoongi remembered them. Every one of them complimented Yoongi on managing to stay alive in such a volatile court. Yoongi almost felt annoyed. They had all sat back and watched his father’s kingdom fall apart whilst they sided with Yeosu.

As Yoongi reached for his third cup of rice wine, the alcohol beginning to swim through him and warm his body, he felt warm breath on his neck.

“Your grace,” a woman whispered next to him, dressed in blush pink silk, hair tied in a tight braid and lips painted a violent shade of scarlet, dark eyes severe. She fluttered her eyelashes at him, folding her hands together as ladies of royal courts did. She was clearly high born, judging from her clothing and her demeanour, but Yoongi didn’t recognise her.

“My name is Ahn Hye-Jin, consort of the governor of Jeonju,” she said as an introduction, bowing slightly. Her voice was silky, eyes rimmed by dark liner, making her appear a lot more catlike.  

“And what can I do for the consort of the governor of Jeonju,” Yoongi asked, voice rougher from the alcohol. Jeonju was north of Yeosu, not far from the Min’s southern border, a fertile land, loyal to the Kims, with a powerful army.

She was silent for a second, watching the crowd around them laughing loudly and cheering. Men pulling servants specifically chosen for this occasion towards them and forking their tongues down their throats, running them along their smooth necks.

“I’ve always favoured the Min family, you know? We are close neighbours and it’s a shame that your history has been tainted.”

Yoongi turned to her fully. “That doesn’t explain how I can help you, consort of Jeonju.”

Hye-Jin let out a single laugh. “You are very direct, your grace?” She looked at Yoongi for a long moment before speaking again. “How is your mother?”

For a moment, Yoongi didn’t know how to reply. Hye-Jin was looking at him with those sharp, careful eyes and he knew she was searching for something on his face. A hint of his mother’s true condition perhaps. Before he could open his mouth, she gave him a knowing smile.

“Don’t worry yourself, your grace. I know the rumour about her—situation. It really is unfortunate. Something like that must drive you insane, no? So much responsibility and so early too,” she asked, sipping her wine, eyes trained on him.

Yoongi laughed, shaking his head. Hye-Jin seemed cunning and Yoongi had to careful about what he revealed. “Fortunately, the rumours aren’t true, Hye-Jin-ssi. Just another one created by my father’s enemies to undermine my family, but rest assured, she’s alive and well.”

Hye-Jin threw her head back and laughed, like they were both in on some kind of inside joke. “Of course,” she said with a small bow. “Forgive me for my brashness, your grace.”

Yoongi was done playing games. “How can I help you, Hye-Jin-ssi?”

She grinned and placed her cup on the wooden table, before leaning in, her breath dancing on Yoongi’s neck. “I know why you’re really here, my prince.”

Yoongi’s heart immediately slammed against his chest, but his trained face gave nothing away. Instead, Yoongi tilted his head, looking at the woman before him in question. “To bow to my new king?” He asked innocently.

Hye-Jin arched a perfectly groomed dark eyebrow. “Jeonju has the same thoughts as you do, your grace. If there was ever a time to dethrone Yeosu, it’s now, don’t you think?” She pulled back and smiled, her tone casual, like she was commenting on the music or the choice of flowers for tonight. “Meet me at sundown tomorrow in the queen’s orchard.”

With that, she stood and bowed before him, disappearing into the crowd, robes flowing behind her. For a moment, Yoongi was too confused to react and he didn’t know how long he stayed there, just watching the spot where she had disappeared.

What Hye-Jin had suggested was treasonous. If anyone had heard her, she would have been beheaded in the courtyard by sunrise. Perhaps he would be implicated too. Yoongi had not come here to form alliances or start rebellions. He had come to kill Seokjin. Blood for blood. Simple.

What came after didn’t concern him much, nor did it scare him. The North was already a shell of its former self, already on its knees for Yeosu. There was nothing the Kim family could avenge after Seokjin died. Perhaps they would kill him, but this had always been a suicide mission from the start.

And yet, Yoongi was curious. Curious to hear about Jeonju’s plans.

“The consort of Jeonju is married, your grace. The governor might have you killed in your sleep for flirting so openly with his new wife and we just got the courtyard repaved.”

Taehyung came to sit down next to him with a sly smile on his lips. Yoongi noticed he wasn’t wearing any shoes and he was sporting a wide grin that could possibly knock over someone. “But I won’t tell anyone about that if you tell me why exactly you’re here, Yoongi-ssi.” Taehyung paused, analysing Yoongi carefully, eyes glinting. “A secret for a secret?”

A chill ran up Yoongi’s spine. Two visitors in the space of minutes, both with lovely voices but more dangerous than vipers and convinced he wasn’t here for the right reasons. Taehyung was looking at him carefully, wide doe eyes illuminated by the candlelight of the hall. Strings strummed in the background, drums beating with a low rumble that he could feel in his body.

To hide his uneasiness, Yoongi reached for his cup of wine, hiding his flushed face behind his cup. “To bow to my new king, of course,” he recited the same words he had said to Hye-Jin, feeling himself grow more and more nervous.

Taehyung arched an eyebrow, leaning in again to whisper, eyes flashing. “No Min has ever bowed to a Kim before. Why now?”

Yoongi wondered if Taehyung had been sent by Jin. If this was some ploy to catch him in a lie and have an excuse to lock him up in some sort of godforsaken dungeon. He wondered whether both Taehyung and Hye-Jin were working together to trap him. Paranoia trickled through Yoongi’s mind, questions darting everywhere as he moved his eyes to the centre of the room, women in tight braids and even tighter silk clothing, lips red, eyes dark, hips swaying and dancing in the hypnotic drums.

At some point during the evening, the noble women had slowly begun to disappear, the men had grown louder and the women in tight silk sat on their laps, tight grips around their waists. Loud cries of enjoyment rang through the room.

“My father’s kingdom has grown weak. There is no reason for me to wage a war, Taehyung-ssi. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.”

“But do you want to?” Taehyung’s voice came then as if realising something, he said, “Ah, you have no reason to trust me, do you? I suppose that’s fair.” he laughed.

Yoongi turned back to him, falling back into his sparkling eyes, noticing the perfectly pink lips. Jin was handsome, and Namjoon had a unique beauty to him, but Taehyung—Taehyung was unbalancing. Ethereal beyond imagination.

“It’s very rare for someone like me to get what I want,” Yoongi said honestly, looking away from the beautiful boy next to him. His eyes searched the crowd for Jeongguk or Hoseok but they were nowhere in sight. He tried to hide his panic.

Next to him, he heard Taehyung sigh. “I suppose we are in the same boat then, Yoongi-ssi.”

Looking out at the crowd, Yoongi wondered what exactly that meant. He turned back to Taehyung, searching for some sort of answer on his face but there was nothing, just a little knowing smile on the younger’s lips, like somehow he held all the secrets and was enjoying watching Yoongi squirm. “Well, be careful where you go, your grace.” Taehyung shuffled, standing next to Yoongi and looking down at him with a smirk on his face. “Be careful who you speak to. Everyone in Yeosu expects an insurrection. How wonderful would it be for my uncle to rid himself of the Mins forever. It would be a pity if you granted him his wish, no?”

Yoongi matched the boy’s smirk, feigning a confidence he had never really possessed. “I suppose it would be, Taehyung-ssi.”

Taehyung bowed slightly, but he did not leave, instead he said, “Plus, pretty people like you shouldn’t be wasted away in Yeosu’s dungeons or beheaded in our courtyards.”

With that, he walked away, flashing Yoongi one last smile before he disappeared out the wooden doors and into a dark hallway, a guard trailing him from a distance.

For a moment, Yoongi sat there, dumbfounded. Taehyung was young, but not by much. To anyone, he seemed unassuming, a pretty face and that was it, but Yoongi hadn’t missed the younger’s warning or veiled threat. What did it mean and what did Taehyung know?

And when he moved his eyes to the raised dais where the crown prince was seated, surrounded by a myriad of nobles and flowers; Yoongi swallowed.

Jin was smiling right at him. Yoongi, ever the excellent actor, rose his cup in turn, smiling at the prince and bowing his head and toasting him, before taking a small sip, eyes still locked on Seokjin’s.

Yoongi remembered his knife.

Kill or be killed.

Jimin remembered arriving at the palace in Yeosu as a thirteen year old boy, a gift to the oldest Kim. The one that would one day be king. His father had willingly given him away, honoured to have a son chosen to serve the crown prince of Yeosu. He had no idea how the soldiers had found him, or why they had picked him. Even now, Jimin had no idea where his father had ended up, whether he knew what kind of ‘gift’ the governor had intended his son to be. He didn’t care. His father hadn’t even tried to protect him when the soldiers came. Instead, he had dragged his son out by his hair and threw him to the guards like a bone before receiving the silver coins as payment. Jimin remembered crying to him, begging him not to let them take him away. He was convinced he was being taken to his death.

But they hadn’t intended to kill him.

He was meant to be Seokjin’s whore, a play-toy for the pretty prince and nothing else. He remembered how the servants in the palace had dressed him up all prettily for the prince, lathered in scented rose oil and covered in delicate fabrics, all good, slick and prepped, left in his Seokjin’s room.

Jimin remembered the first time he had looked at Seokjin, the plump lips, the big eyes. He remembered thinking how pretty he was and how maybe this wouldn’t be bad. All he needed to do was close his eyes and let it happen. He anticipated the pain, knowing what it would feel like after the servants had gotten him ready, but he told himself he wouldn’t cry. Men got off on others’ pain, that’s what his father was like. Jimin wouldn’t give the prince the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

Seokjin had looked at him carefully, as he knelt uncomfortably on the wooden floor, head hanging. “You should get up,” Seokjin had said turning away from him. “And take a bath. You smell like someone tried to drown you in perfume.”

Jimin remembered feeling embarrassed. Perhaps the prince thought himself too good to fuck a peasant like him. Jimin hadn’t let it show though, instead, he bowed before Jin. “Yes, my prince.”

Jin had looked at Jimin carefully and smiled. It was the warm kind, genuine, and reaching his eyes. “You look like you’re going to burst into tears. Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.” He paused, face falling a little. “What’s your name?”

“Jimin, my prince.”

Jin nodded. “I’m Seokjin, but you probably know that.” He smiled gently, eyes warm. “It’s nice to meet you, Jimin.”  Then his eyes narrowed. “Now, please stand up.”

Jin had never touched him and Jimin had never asked. It was ten years since he had first laid his eyes on Jin and the crown prince held a special place in his heart for the kindness he had shown him through the years.

Seokjin was ever calculating and ever aware of the impending threats that came with being a crown prince. Yet, he was kinder than most, determined to be different from his father, only second to Namjoon who would surely be known as a saint one day. In his heart, Jimin held a fierce loyalty to the soon-to-be king and perhaps to his brothers too.

As Jimin sat in the corner, on one plush cushion as the governor of Jeonju puffed up a cloud of smoke, he carefully watched Taehyung across the room. He was leaning down, whispering something into the ears of the prince from the North; Min Yoongi. Taehyung pulled back and smiled before walking away and Jimin narrowed his eyes wondering what the young prince was up to now.

Just like his oldest brother, Taehyung was complicated, perhaps even more so. Mostly ignored by the king and left to his devices, spending more time with the queen, the young prince was allergic to shoes, court decorum and befriended animals in the forest. All the nobles of the court found him strange and no one had ever had much patience for him. To them, he was an inconvenience.

Yet Jimin knew that behind that, Taehyung was even more calculating, more manipulative than the court noblemen and women. His abilities to befriend and coerce always left people on their knees for him, trading secrets and lies for a myriad of favours.  

“How will the crown prince react when he realises that his whore is falling all over me?” The governor asked, voice slurred, already drunk off rice wine and high from smoking. Jimin smiled sweetly at the man next to him. They were surrounded by other court dignitaries but his wife was nowhere to be seen. His fifth wife and scandalously younger than him. Sadly not unusual in a court such as this one.  

The governor of Jeonju was old and hairy. The robes he wore strained around him and his hair peppered with grey. There was nothing appealing about him and the scent of rice wine was even more off-putting.

 “Oh, I don’t care about him.” Jimin leaned in further, putting his hand on the man’s thigh. “You shouldn’t either.” He moved his hand up slowly.

“He’s just a boy, isn’t he?” The governor took Jimin’s chin in his hand and squeezed, making him look into his cloudy eyes. “You need me to show you how a real man fucks?”

Jimin forced himself to giggle which made the governor grin wickedly with want and desire. Jimin knew he was pretty and men were simple creatures, especially men like the governor of Jeonju.

Jin had had his suspicions about Jeonju for a while now. They were the only state capable of toppling Yeosu if they joined forces with a few others. It was the perfect time to topple the kingdom too. With Jin as the new king and various nobles insisting he was far too young for the crown, favouring the regent instead. But Jimin knew that this was what Jin wanted, what he had worked for all his life. Sleepless nights studying and training.

Jimin was determined to give him everything he wanted, even if  Jin didn’t want him.

 “Perhaps we can talk further in private, governor? My quarters? They aren’t far from here.”

The governor looked around the room for a second. His wife was not here, and even if she was, there was nothing  she could do. He already had a multitude of women at his beck and call.

After a moment, the governor drunkenly nodded before stumbling to his feet, like a graceless new-born fawn. Jimin fought his urge to gag.

As Jimin led him down the complex hallways of the palace, sneaking glances back at the half-awake governor, he wondered what Jin would say when he found out about this—because he would. He didn’t do this often. In fact Jin had made it a point to not allow Jimin to give his body in exchange for secrets, but this was the perfect opportunity. The governor was piss drunk and attracted to Jimin. Hopefully the governor was drunk enough to give Jimin the confirmation he so desperately needed before things got out of hand.

As Jimin slipped into the room, that was not in fact his, but a luxurious one saved for guests, he spun round to the governor, who was standing tall and dominating, leering at Jimin’s body as he bit his lower lip.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said slowly, stepping forward to Jimin and taking his waist with a firm hand. Jimin breathed, making it sound almost purr-like, trying his best to look like he really wanted this. “Thank you, governor.” He stepped forward, flush against the governor’s body, enough to feel how much the governor wanted him. Gently putting his hands on the man’s shoulder, he slipped off his noble robes effortlessly.

“All these old men in the court must desire you so much, huh?” The governor lifted Jimin’s chin again. Jimin felt repulsed, the rice wine breath fanning his face.

“They can’t have me. I only belong to the prince.”

“Yet you want me?”

“Yet I want you,” Jimin answered, falling to his knees and looking up at the governor who was looking at him like he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Jimin didn’t need to do much, secretly spitting in his palms and using his hand as the man groaned and bucked his hips, searching for more pressure.

“Use your mouth,” the governor demanded, putting his hand through Jimin’s hair and gripping tightly. Jimin looked up, the governor’s head had fallen back and his lips were wet, soft grunts leaving his throat. Jimin could already feel him tense up and he sure as hell was not going to degrade himself by using his mouth on the governor of fucking Jeonju. After an embarrassingly short few moments,  the old man made a loud noise, as he spilt in Jimin’s hands, sighing loudly and carding his hand through Jimin’s hair.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “I wanted to—”

Jimin stood, reaching for a nearby cloth he had prepared to wipe off. “Don’t worry,” he whispered sweetly to the man. “We have all night, don’t we? Rest on the bed and we can wait until you’re ready again, hm?”

The governor looked at Jimin for a second, eyes tired, before nodding and walking over to the bed, lying down with a deep sigh. After a moment of looking at him, Jimin made his way onto the bed, running a hand through the governor’s hair tenderly for a while, the moment feeling all too intimate.  

Finally he sighed. “I wish he was more like you. I know you would treat me well, wouldn’t you?” Jimin’s voice was small, matching his sweet face that people often mistook as innocent. The governor turned to Jimin, drunk on the euphoria of the orgasm. “Seokjin doesn’t treat you well?”

Jimin secretly flinched at the lack of honorifics and titles. “No, he likes it better when he uses me and tosses me like a rag.”

The governor shut his eyes slowly and Jimin stopped his hand, worrying the man had fallen asleep before he could get anything useful out of him. After a moment of low breathing, he heard the governor groan. “You won’t have to worry about that much longer, pretty. Soon you can belong to me.”

Jimin’s heart stalled before punching against his ribs again. He breathed, but not too loudly to rouse the governor from his stupor. “What about your wife, your grace?”

The governor’s thin lips broke into a smile at the name, enjoying the respect it held.

Your grace, a title strictly reserved for princes and princesses.  “She doesn’t mind. Soon she will be a queen surrounded by all of Yeosu’s riches. Having you in my chambers will not be a concern for her.”

Jimin bit his lip. Jin’s worries had been right. Jeonju was planning something and the governor had just confessed to it, thinking he was speaking to just another dumb servant. Jimin wanted to laugh at the easiness of men. How did the governor of Jeonju expect to rule a kingdom such as Yeosu when he blathered his mouth to anyone willing to jerk him off?

“I will belong to the king of Yeosu,” Jimin murmured, smiling down at the man. It wasn’t really a lie.

The governor said nothing and after a long while, as Jimin thought about everything he had learnt tonight, he quietly slipped out of the governor’s grip and gingerly walked out of the door, heart in throat, desperate to control the ensuing chaos.

As Jimin walked through the hallways, back to the hall to find Seokjin, he stumbled across Taehyung standing alone, lost in thought. Jimin watched him for a second as he looked  out of a window at the night sky, watching the trees sway in the early summer breeze.

“Your grace,” Jimin bowed respectfully after a moment, catching Taehyung’s attention.

Their relationship had always been strange. They were both twenty-three, but had had vastly different lives. Jimin always knew that Taehyung and him could have been great friends if they had met in another life. Secretly, although Jimin hated being sentimental, he hoped they did meet in another life.

“Oh,” Taehyung said, turning to him, slightly dazed. “Hey, Jimin. Didn’t see you there.”

Jimin paused, looking at Taehyung carefully, his eyes lit by the evening light and the candles dancing around them. “Are you okay, your grace?”

Taehyung nodded slowly, as if he was thinking about it. “I—yeah. Just worried about Jin-hyung,” he said quietly.

Jimin knew Taehyung’s secret. The one thing the king had decided to reveal on his deathbed and no one else knew but Jimin. Perhaps Taehyung had confided in Jimin because he was a familiar stranger, not close enough but not too distant either or perhaps it was because he knew it was Jimin’s job to keep secrets. Either way, the burden was on him too.

“Why?”

Taehyung smiled a little and shrugged. “It’s quite clear some people haven’t come to kneel, isn’t it?”

Jimin arched an eyebrow, leaning against the wall, wondering how Taehyung had figured this out so quickly. “The governor of Jeonju?”

Taehyung looked confused for a moment, brow knitted in a deep frown, but he quickly recovered before Jimin could comment, simply nodding. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You should probably tell hyung.”

Jimin nodded.

“About the governor,” Taehyung continued, eyes flashing. “And the other stuff.”

With that, Taehyung disappeared down the hallway, not in the direction of the party but perhaps somewhere else, maybe the stables to pet his horses.

Jimin was transported back to the night that the king had passed away. He had found Taehyung alone, sobbing softly, but not for the reasons everyone assumed. Instead, he had confessed to Jimin and in turn, Jimin had confessed something too. Had told Taehyung about his feelings towards Jin. Taehyung had simply pulled him into a hug, treated him like an equal who had the right to desire such a thing.

For Taehyung, Jimin loving Jin was not something strange or something to look down on. It was simply love and Jimin wished everyone lived in the world Taehyung lived in. Simple and uncomplicated with constraining formalities.

And despite Jimin loving Taehyung in his own way, he wasn’t keeping the secret for Taehyung’s sake, but Jin’s. If the court found out, Jin’s position would be in more danger than it already was.

Jimin’s jaw tensed. It was always all for Jin and for a moment, he just stood there, in the quiet hallway, wondering to whom his life really belonged to. It certainly didn’t belong to him.

He took a deep breath and after a moment, he headed back into the hall, standing on the stairway that descended into a den of vices. Men and women smoked, sending a haze through the room. There was loud chatter all about, shouting and celebrating the might of Yeosu and its tributary states. It was chaotic, just the right mood to make men loose-lipped and mailable. The governor of Jeonju being the night’s first victim.

Jimin looked at Jin in his seat, whispering something into an older woman’s ear. She was smiling and nodding along, eyes glassy but seemingly alert. Jimin recognised her as the governess of Gurye, a strong agricultural tributary, and fiercely loyal to the crown which had earned them a seat in the council.

When Jin spotted Jimin, he immediately recognised the look in his eyes and excused himself from the old woman. Jimin watched him cross the room, elegantly dodging men and women who tried to stop him for a conversation that no doubt involved some sort of illicit deals.

“You look concerned,” Jin said, coming to stand next to Jimin. “I don’t like it when you’re concerned.”

“I don’t either,” Jimin shot back, which earned him an appreciative smile from Jin.

“We have a problem,” Jimin murmured, still looking at the crowd. In the corner of his eye, he spotted Yoongi along with Namjoon and Hoseok, laughing loudly like they were all old friends. His brow furrowed.

“The Mins?” Jin asked, following his gaze.

Jimin shook his head. “Jeonju.”

Next to him, Jin sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Do you think we should tell my uncle?”

The Regent of Yeosu. Kim Yoo Chun. Far from Jimin’s favourite person in the palace.

“No,” Jimin said. He wanted to see where the governor went with this. Maybe he would talk to Taehyung to see what he knew. Taehyung always knew things.

“Let’s go to bed,” Jin said suddenly. “I’m tired.”

Jimin turned to him, running his tongue against his cheek. “You say it as if I’m getting into bed with you, Exalted.”

Jin winked at him, eyes smouldering. “Ah, Jiminie, you could only dream.”

And yes, Jimin could only dream.

Chapter Text

One day before coronation

Friday morning brought more people to the city. The preparations were going full steam ahead, servants rushing around, darting to different areas of the palace to ensure that everything was ready for the big day. Flowers and candles and expensive silks were set out all over the palace, rooms being made to look pretty, even if no one would enter them. Everything had to be perfect, from the flowers to the guard’s uniform. Power had to be exhibited in all its facets.

Hoseok, Jeongguk and Yoongi all sat in the sun parlour, eyes puffy from the long night of drinking with high-ranking nobles and making all sorts of empty promises.

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy Yeosu as much,” Jeongguk said, looking out into the courtyard where a few guards stood, standing still in the early summer breeze.

“You like it here?” Yoongi asked sceptically.

If he was being honest, he missed the northern palace with its coral stone walls and cold floors. He missed his mother. He couldn’t help but think she would have known how to behave in a place like Yeosu. She had always been cunning, more than Yoongi’s father and all the nobles had loved her for it. She would have known what to do, the right decisions to make. Since Yoongi had arrived at the palace, all he had experienced was a strange proposal from the consort of Jeonju, Taehyung’s laced threat and Jimin’s curious eyes. Yeosu was stifling, the summer coming in hot and all Yoongi wanted—as childish as it sounded—was his mother.

But even if he returned to the north, his mother was no longer there. Not really anyway. He would be met by vacant eyes and a still woman staring out at the gates, waiting for a husband that would never return.

“I think we should leave as soon as the coronation is done,” Yoongi announced, earning him a curious look from Hoseok. “Maybe you and Hoseokie can go ahead and I’ll follow, hm?”

Jeongguk got that confused look in his eyes, furrowing his brow, mouth falling open slightly.

“That’s like—the worst idea you’ve ever had, hyung,” Hoseok said. “And you’ve had a lot of those recently.”

Quietly, Jeongguk laughed. Yoongi shot him a look, making his younger cousin shrug, “What? He’s right.”

Hoseok was still looking at Yoongi like he had gone absolutely mad. “What happened, hyung?”

The sun room was quiet, just them sitting on blood orange coloured cushions, a myriad of fruit set out, but Yoongi knew the palace guards were never far away. Gossiping servants were everywhere, willing to sell information to anyone who was willing to buy.

Yoongi considered telling Jeongguk everything for a moment. The night before had opened his eyes to a bigger problem. The palace was crawling with threats to the Kim family, Taehyung was watching him and Jimin—Yoongi still couldn’t read the servant. He had to be cautious. Despite expecting to die, he had to make sure no harm came to both Hoseok and Jeongguk. He couldn’t carelessly stab Jin in the throat and call it a day (not for a lack of temptation). He had to be smart and the smartest thing was to get the two out of Yeosu as quickly as possible.

He would stick around the palace under the guise of brokering deals. He would offer some land and in return that would earn him trust. At some point, he would gain more access to Seokjin and carry out what he had been planning all along.

That’s if he got to Seokjin first. Jeonju was planning something and Ahn Hye-Jin had cornered him the night before, offering him a chance to be a part of it. Yoongi was sceptical. The governor of Jeonju was an old and untrustworthy man, engaged in all sorts of illegal trade and selling. Jeonju regularly carried out raids on small villages, taking the women and trapping them in brothels all over the kingdom. Everyone knew but no one dared to speak about it, Jeonju being the most powerful ally of Yeosu. Allying himself with Jeonju was dangerous. Who was to say they wouldn’t do the same to the north in their attempt to garner more land?

“I think something might happen tomorrow after the coronation,” Yoongi confessed.

This made Jeongguk sit up. “Did someone say something?”

Yoongi thought of Hye-Jin’s cat eyes, and airy laugh, her knowledge of his mother.

 “No,” he lied. “Just a gut feeling.”

Hoseok sighed loudly. “Bullshit.”

Yoongi stared at him pointedly, trying to communicate something but Hoseok simply glared back, jaw set. “Just trust me, okay?”

Hoseok immediately stood up, making Jeongguk shift slightly. “How can I trust you when you’re on a suicide mission? You think I’m an idiot? You think I don’t know what you’re actually planning?”

Yoongi looked around the room, worried that someone could see or hear them. “Keep your voice down,” he whispered.

Jeongguk rose his hands, as if to calm everyone down. “Whoa,” he said. “What the hell is going on? Hyung what are you on about? What do you mean a suicide mission?” He directed his question to Hoseok, whose chest was heaving, hands clenched into fists.

“Ask him.” Hoseok nudged his chin towards Yoongi. “I’m going to go somewhere else.”

He breezed out of the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Guards stood at the end of the panelled hallway, looking stoic and straight ahead. A servant walked past but no one seemed to have heard the commotion that had ensued.

Jeongguk was looking at Yoongi, question in his sparkling eyes. “Should I be concerned, hyung?” he asked.

Yoongi reflexively shook his head, ready to lie, but Jeongguk was looking at him with those eyes and Yoongi had never really been able to resist them anyway. He sighed. “I think Jeonju is planning some kind of coup. Last night the consort came to me and said she had an offer for me. I don’t know what that offer is but I am supposed to meet her at sundown today.”

Jeongguk looked uncomfortable, mind lost in consideration. Yoongi looked at the open door again, feeling his palms sweat.

“Are you going to meet her?”

Yoongi hadn’t made a decision. It could well be a trap but he hadn’t agreed to take part in anything so was it really a crime to meet up with a consort of a powerful state? He was a prince after all.

“I don’t know.”

Jeongguk set his jaw. “I know you think I’m a kid, hyung, but I’m twenty. I know being here is dangerous for you. I wish you trusted me enough to tell me these things. But you want my advice?” Jeongguk asked.

Yoongi felt embarrassed, but he had to lie to Jeongguk. His plan would go to hell if he told the younger everything.

“Don’t meet her the consort. More eyes are on you than you think. I don’t think Seokjin-hyung is someone we can underestimate. He’s smart, hyung.”

“I’m smart too,” Yoongi said quietly.

“Yes, you are, but you don’t have an army to protect you when you aren’t. Just lay low. Let’s get tomorrow over and done with and go back home. I have a hunting trip with Kyungsoo when I get back.” He stood from his seat and brushed himself off. “And apologise to Hoseok. He worries about you, hyung. We all do.”

“You shouldn’t,” Yoongi murmured back.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He sighed. “Just- just don’t do anything stupid. Our family isn’t dead.”

And as if Jungkook knew exactly what Yoongi was planning, he gave Yoongi one last fleeting glance. “Don’t go to the consort, hyung. Seokjin-hyung has people watching you.”

With that, he walked of the sun room, leaving Yoongi ready to scream—maybe cry.  As each hour passed, killing Seokjin seemed more and more impossible, which made Yoongi more and more murderous.

A predicament.

The morning passed and Yoongi busied himself with meeting nobles in the courtyard and carrying out casual conversations, as everyone pretended to care what the other had been doing in the last few years. He had never been a social butterfly but as his mother had taught him, it was necessary to keep up appearances at events such as these and to be as friendly as possible to everyone. As he walked through the gardens, with crawling ivy and pretty cherry blossoms, he discreetly kept an eye out for Ahn Hye-Jin, but she was nowhere in sight. Her husband on the other hand, was seated with the regent of Yeosu in the far corner of the courtyard.

The regent, Kim Yoo Chun was famous through the kingdom. He had taken over after the king and queen’s death, taking care of their sons and making sure Yeosu did not come under attack in the meantime. Despite being famous, nothing much was known about him, except through rumours.

As Yoongi walked towards them, talking to an old woman who came from his mother’s province, he watched them carefully. The woman said something about the weather, how wonderfully warm it was but Yoongi wasn’t paying enough attention. His eyes were trained on the regent and the governor, ears straining to hear their conversation.

“…You have beautiful servants in your palace, Regent. I almost thought I was in one of my entertainment houses last night. So many to choose from.” The governor laughed loudly and the regent feigned a quiet laugh, eyes clearly on guard.

“I’m glad you enjoyed the celebrations, governor. Seokjin insisted you were treated with the highest respect.”

“As he should.” The governor snorted loudly. “Jeonju is one of Yeosu’s great allies. I hope your nephew recognises that.”

There was loud chatter in the distance, making Yoongi lose focus for a moment. The woman next to him continued but once again, Yoongi heard nothing.

“…Is that why he let me fuck his little toy?” This was the governor again.

In the corner of his eye, Yoongi saw the regent arch an eyebrow but quickly recover and laugh. “Ah, yes, a tempting little thing that one.”

And with that, Yoongi was out of earshot. He turned to the old woman and smiled at whatever she had said.

“…But please do greet your mother, dear. I am quite sure she will make a speedy recovery. She was always such a graceful woman.”

Yoongi smiled. “Of course. I will pass your regards.” He made a sweeping bow. The woman nodded, smile on her face, eyes crinkling and walked away, back into the palace. He watched her disappear into the shadows before he turned back to the regent and the governor. The regent watched the governor carefully, thinking deeply about something, no doubt the news about Jimin making his head spin.

Yoongi frowned as he walked back into the palace. There was simply no way Jimin had the random urge to sleep with the governor. Had Seokjin put Jimin up to it or was to his own accord? Either way, this meant Jin knew by now and  suspected Jeonju which meant Yoongi had to stay as far away from Ahn Hye-Jin as possible.

It was mid-afternoon, the sun high in the sky, a light breeze flowing through the palace when Hoseok and Jeongguk appeared at Yoongi’s door.

“Seokjin-hyung wants to see us,” Hoseok said, sounding a little worried as he looked at Yoongi.

“Why?” Yoongi asked quietly.

Hoseok shrugged. “Don’t know. A guard came to my room and told me to make my way to his wing.” Hoseok still sounded angry at Yoongi.

When Yoongi looked past them, he recognised the guard as one of Seokjin’s personal one. Face severe and completely unmoved. Frowning, Yoongi nodded, wondering what this was all about.

When they reached the west side of the palace, heavily guarded and beautifully decorated with plum blossoms floating in a fountain and jasmine incense burning, servants making sure everything was in perfect shape. Yoongi was caught between awe and apprehension as the guard swung open a large door, opening to a room, barely furnished, just wooden floor and thin white sheets covering the windows. In the room were already several men and women, all young and noble considering their clothes and chattering loudly in a buzz of confusion.

A moment passed before Jin came into view, eyes full of mischief and smiling.

“You may all be wondering why I have asked you here,” he started, walking further into the centre until everyone had gathered around him. His robes today were slightly toned down, just a pretty lilac and white underneath.

“I’m in the mood to have a little fun as I’m sure you are too. I have invited some of the best fighters in Yeosu, be it with swords, fists, knives,” he paused smiling, walking pacing a little, hands behind his back. Yoongi noticed Namjoon in the back, rolling his eyes at his brother, but he couldn’t see Taehyung anywhere.

Somehow that made him uneasy.

“If you choose to fight, and win, you may be granted whatever you desire. Lose; and you will give me something in return.”

There was an excited buzz around Yoongi as people murmured amongst themselves. Even Jeongguk looked excited to use his fists for the first time in a few days, judging from the shimmer in his eyes. Yoongi immediately thought of the knives in his trunk and winced.

What did Jin want exactly and from who?

“This is Jooheon, he’s my best swordsman.” Jin nodded towards a tall man with dark hair, almost black. “Any takers?”

For a moment, the gathered group was silent, looking around in confusion and murmuring quietly. Jin looked on, seemingly pleased by the uneasiness he had stirred all by himself. There was a beat of a second before someone stepped forward. He looked slightly foreign, maybe mixed, lithe and strong, definitely someone who could take on Jooheon.

 Jin smiled at him like an old friend. “Chan-ssi, are you sure you’re up for this? Jooeheon is a  pretty strong fighter.”

As Yoongi looked around further, he realised that all the people in the room belonged to the families within the council or were part of an influential family. They were all young, mostly sons and daughters of powerful men but there was a pattern. Seokjin was after something and Yoongi wondered why he was going to such an extent for an answer they might not have.

Maybe Jin liked the dramatics or maybe he knew something specifically. Looking at everyone’s eyes though, Yoongi could tell  there was a certain hunger and curiosity to the challenge.

Win and you can ask anything of the future king of Yeosu?

 It was a tantalising offer.

An offer Yoongi was almost willing to take up. What would it be like if he won back some of the land the Kim family had taken? His aunt and current caretaker of the palace, Ji-Eun would be impressed and it was very difficult to impress a woman like her.

As Chan was handed a sword by a guard and took position on a set of arranged mats in the centre of the room, the crowd eagerly gathered round, eyes looking on with fascination.

“Try not to kill each other,” Jin murmured as he stepped back.  

The two young men bowed before each other and took position. For a while, there was a lot of circling before anything happened. Somewhere to the left, someone cheered on Chan and that did well to push him. He stabbed forward first and next to Yoongi, Hoseok winced.

“Wrong move,” both him and Jeongguk whispered.

Jooheon took the opportunity disarming Chun in a matter of minutes, besting him in every department, it was almost embarrassing to witness. It was over quickly and Chan stood breathless, tendrils of sweat slipping down his face before Seokjin, who simply smiled and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t feel too embarrassed. Jooheon is the best swordsman I have ever seen.”

Yoongi heard Jeongguk snort smugly and he elbowed him in the side to shut him up.

“You-you said you wanted something, Exalted?” Chan breathed, looking up at Jin, still sweating and eyes a little red.

Jin’s eyes went wide as he grinned. “Oh!” he said loudly. “Of course, I almost forgot.”

He hadn’t.  

Jin still held Chan’s shoulder and he squeezed tightly. “Chan-ssi, you are the governor of Suncheon’s closest advisor, yes? He sent you to represent his kingdom, didn’t he?”

Wide eyed, not sure where this was going, the advisor from Suncheon nodded slowly.

Jin continued, “Suncheon claims to have twelve iron smelting plants and from those twelve, five produce weapons?” He phrased it as a question. Chan nodded quickly, confirming Jin’s words.

“Hmm,” Jin murmured and Yoongi almost rolled his eyes at the dramatics. Still, the tension in the room was palpable and everyone could feel the next person’s discomfort. What exactly was the new king of Yeosu looking for?

“Yet I keep hearing rumours of three more weapons plants, isn’t that strange?”

Chan’s eyes widened as he cleared his throat, trying to move out of Jin’s grip, but Jin only held on tighter.

He smiled widely at the advisor who looked ready to piss his own pants. “Are my sources wrong or not, Chan-ssi?”

Just as Yoongi had suspected. Everyone in this room was someone Jin wanted a secret from. It didn’t matter who volunteered, either way, their inevitable loss meant a secret gained by Jin. Important leverage he could surely use in the future. Yoongi felt sick, ready to escape the bare room and be anywhere else.

The advisor was silent for a long moment, looking around the room as if the spectators could help him in some way, but everyone averted their gaze. “It’s in your best interests not to lie to me, Chan-ssi,” Jin said quietly to him, eyes glinting with confidence. “I don’t plan on telling your governor what you tell me, so you’ll be safe.” He let Chan go. “So tell me, Chan-ssi. Show me and everyone else here how loyal you are to your new king.”

From where Yoongi stood, Chan looked like a deer about to be hunted, wide eyes filled with fear, body trembling from the adrenaline seeping out of him.

 Finally, he nodded slowly, swallowing thickly as Jin’s mouth spread into a grin. “Your sources are not wrong, Exalted. There are m-more plants. The weapons being made are sent up to the Haritori clan, they are fighting the Mings.”

Jin nodded slowly and walked back to his original spot. “Interesting,” he murmured. “That’s an awful lot of weapons for a single clan, don’t you think?”

Now Chan looked deathly terrified, standing in the centre of the room as everyone watched him closely, thankful that it was not them in front of Jin. “I-I don’t know what—” he paused, swallowing once again as Jin gazed on, unaffected by the vulnerable look in Chan’s eyes. The tension in the grew, curious to hear what the advisor from Suncheon had to say.

Across the room, Namjoon set his jaw, just as a guard placed a tentative hand on his sword, ready for any mistakes that one of the guests might make. Yoongi swallowed.

“Jeonju,” Chan whispered. There was a quiet murmur around the room.

“Shit,” Jeongguk said quietly.

“I don’t know why, Exalted but Jeonju is the other buyer.”

It was written all over Jin’s face, the smug grin and the glimmering eyes.

Checkmate.

“Thank you, Chan-ssi for your loyalty. I promise none of this will be repeated outside of this room.” Jin walked back to his original position next to Namjoon and Jimin. “I value loyal people like you Chan-ssi. Loyalty without guarantee of reward is truly admirable and especially in a court with a reputation such as Yeosu’s. Loyalty should be returned, Chan-ssi and so,  I’d like to offer you a place of my council.”

Chan took in a sharp breath, surprised that his head hadn’t been severed off and the relief that washed through the room was clear. Everyone had expected blood, not a seat on one of the most powerful councils.

“Exalted, I-I,” Chan immediately fell to his knees with a loud thud in a full bow. “Thank you, Exalted! May you have many sons and a blessed rule!”

The advisor from Suncheon was on the floor for a few seconds before Jin asked him to stand and get himself cleaned up.

As the guards led the advisor away, Yoongi could see that Chan’s admittance into the council had wet appetites. To everyone else, he had revealed a non-consequential secret. Weapons were sold every day through the kingdom. It was not shocking that Jeonju, a powerful state was purchasing these weapons.

 Yet, it hit Yoongi suddenly that Jin had just gained a priceless secret. Jeonju was not at war with any state nor tributary. They had no reason for more weapons and yet---

Yoongi looked out the sheer white sheet covering one of the windows. Ahn Hye-Jin would be waiting for him soon and he would not go to her. Not when Jin seemed to be two steps ahead of everyone else.  Yoongi narrowed his eyes at the soon-to-be king. Jin was smart and he was looking through the room, a small smile playing on his lips, at the enticed group ready to fight for a spot on the council or some other favour, not knowing that whatever secret they told, only strengthened the future king’s rule.

Yoongi almost laughed. Kim Seokjin was a fitting king.

After a moment, another man stepped up and Yoongi had no clue where he was from. There were a few sounds of encouragement from the men behind him. “Ahh,” Jin murmured. “Hyunwoo-ssi.”

“Exalted,” Hyunwoo bowed. He was tall and seemed to have an athletic build to him, someone who could take Jin’s swordsman.

“Are you fighting with a sword?” Jin asked.

Hyungwon shook his head confidently. “Just my hands, Exalted.”

Jin arched an eyebrow then nodded at Jooheon. Jooheon nodded back and a guard came over to retrieve his sword. The two men stood on the mats, facing each other with fierce eyes.

Jooheon looked at Jin for confirmation to start but Jin simply shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he murmured.

With that, Hyunwoo launched, landing an impressive blow on Jooheon’s side. It seemed a pretty even battle and they were at it for a while, landing punches with loud grunts until they were both bleeding. Someone shrieked when Hyunwoo landed his fist on Jooheon’s face, a loud crack ringing from his nose. Suddenly there was blood everywhere, gushing out of Jooheon’s nose as he landed on the mat with a loud thud, swearing in pain. Hyunwoo’s hand was also bruised but he looked on at Jooheon with a triumphant smile as guards ran to the mats, tending to Jooheon who let out muffled groans as clutched his nose.

“I believe you owe me something, Exalted,”  Hyunwoo turned to Jin, not interested in the bleeding man, but his favour instead.

Jin looked on curiously, considering Hyunwoo before he shrugged. “Name it.”

Hyunwoo grinned before turning his hungry gaze to Jimin. Jimin who stood just behind Jin, unsmiling but not looking as severe as usual looked surprised.

For a second, Jin’s eyes went wide, but he composed himself quickly, the movement too fast if you were not paying attention.

“I want your servant, Exalted. Just for the night, and I’ll return him in one piece.” Hyunwoo grinned cockily, gaze leering at Jimin. “Maybe.”

There were sounds of appreciation from a few men around Yoongi and Jin lazily looked at them as if to ask ‘really?’, rendering them silent.

Jimin arched an unimpressed eyebrow and moved closer to Jin, only slightly but Yoongi noticed anyway. 

Jin laughed quietly, but it sounded forced. “Jimin is not mine to give away, Hyunwoo-ssi.”

“Is he not a servant, Exalted?”

 Hyunwoo was brave, Yoongi could give him that. Stupidly so but brave nonetheless. And there were plenty of things Yoongi would have asked for before he asked for Jimin. A thousand things he would have asked for. Men like Hyunwoo thought with what was between their legs and not their brains. They saw people like Jimin and felt the desire to own them, convinced that they were somehow weaker and just had to be conquered.

Jin’s father was one of them.

Yoongi wondered if Jin was too.

Jin walked towards Hyunwoo slowly and leisurely, before stopping short and murmuring quietly, “If I can’t touch him, what makes you think someone like you can?”

The electricity buzzed through the room as they all looked on, feeling uneasy. Yoongi’s eyes fell on Jimin who had his chin up regally, face controlled and unmoved—nothing like a servant.  

If I can’t touch him, what makes you think someone like you can?

What an interesting thing to say. Before the conversation could continue any further, the doors burst open and five guards marched into the room. They were dressed differently from the palace guards, purple robes instead of  the rich red the main guards wore. The Regent’s guards, Yoongi realised.

They stopped short of Jin before bowing lowly all bowed to Jin. Jin’s cheeks were slightly flushed and he seemed little disoriented.

“The Regent requests to see you, Exalted,” the front guard said, voice hard. He pointedly looked at Jimin. “Alone.”

Jin spared Jimin a glance, their eyes communicating something before he nodded.

Jin lost the flushed looked at flashed his signature smile at the gathered group. “Please enjoy the rest of your evenings, everyone. My apologies we couldn’t continue this fun little exercise.” He turned to Hyunwoo and his smiled wavered.  “Hyunwoo-ssi, request something else and my guards will take care of it.” Jin bowed before the group and in turn, everyone bowed back, waiting until he had left the room.

Once the doors had been shut, and the murmuring had begun, Yoongi kept his eyes on Jimin who stood there, looking uncomfortable. Jimin held his shoulders, jaw tense before Namjoon came up to him and whispered something. After a moment, Jimin nodded, his shoulders relaxing.

“Is it me or was that really weird?” Hoseok asked coming round to Yoongi and Jeongguk.

Jeongguk shrugged. “Definitely weird, but I was kinda tempted to get up there and ask for our southern border towns back.”

Clearly both him and Jeongguk had the same thoughts.

Before Yoongi could open his mouth, Namjoon appeared beside them, smiling widely, dimples on full display. This immediately prompted Hoseok to smile back. “Hi,” Namjoon said casually and Yoongi was kind of glad there was someone in this palace he wasn’t so suspicious of. Namjoon was sweet, in a unassuming way.

“Seok, how do you feel about that archery lesson, huh? I’m kind of feeling inspired after all that fighting. I need to be good at something.”

Hoseok laughed a little and Yoongi could see his neck flush, something that happened when he was shy. He smiled. Hoseok deserved a little fun, even if it was with a Kim, Yoongi couldn’t stop him.

Didn’t really want to.

He preferred Hoseok smiling anyway.

“Uh yeah, sure,” Hoseok said looking at the other two. “Will you be okay?” He asked.

Yoongi and Jeongguk quickly nodded before Jeongguk grinned mischievously. “Be good.” He winked, which made Namjoon blush too and Hoseok look like he was about to die.

The two of them left after that, leaving Yoongi and Jeongguk as the group thinned and everyone went to different corners of the palace.

“There is something I need to do,” Jeongguk announced. Yoongi narrowed his eyes at his cousin who smiled like he was up to something. “Don’t worry about me, hyung. See you later.” With that Jeongguk disappeared too, leaving Yoongi alone.

He stood there for a second, heart speeding up as he thought back to Jin’s face. He might have gained a secret that afternoon but so had Yoongi. If Yoongi was right—and he usually was—Jin cared about Jimin.

How interesting.  

“It’s almost sundown.”

Yoongi immediately recognised Taehyung’s voice without turning around to see who was talking to him. The rich deep sound of it, that reminded him of honey, a voice that should have sounded strange coming out of someone so pretty but didn’t.

Taehyung made him nervous, much more than Jin did and Yoongi didn’t know why. The younger man came round, smiling at Yoongi, hands covered by an oversized robe that looked a lot more like a robe women wore. Interesting choice of fashion.

“Any plans?” Taehyung asked, making Yoongi swallow.

Yoongi shrugged, feigning innocence, head still rushing. “Not that I know of, your grace. You?”

Taehyung bit his bottom lip, considering Yoongi carefully. Since the night before, it had felt like they were playing a game and Yoongi was constantly on the backfoot. Goosebumps crept up his arms.

“Not really,” he shrugged.

Yoongi suddenly felt the need to nap. “What do you want, Taehyung-ssi?”

The room was virtually empty now, just the vast expanse of wooden floors and white sheets.

“You know why Jin-hyung set this ridiculous thing up, don’t you?” He asked.

Yoongi didn’t know what to say. He had his suspicions but he wasn’t going to tell Taehyung any of that. Not when he didn’t know what exactly the younger wanted from him. “I don’t know why, Taehyung-ssi, but I’m sure nothing your brother does is ‘ridiculous’.”

At that Taehyung smiled a little, looking down at his feet. “Do you want to take a walk, hyung?” He paused to look up at Yoongi again, eyes somewhat challenging him and to what? Yoongi had no idea. “Can I call you hyung? Namjoon does.” Taehyung continued, immediately switching to a more casual speech.

Whiplash. That’s what it felt like speaking to Taehyung.

Taehyung arched an eyebrow after a few beats of silence from Yoongi and Yoongi realised he had to give a response. “Uh, yes, sure, hyung is fine.” He paused. “And a walk is fine too--I guess.”

Taehyung looked pleased, grinning widely and he set ahead, feet barely making a sound as they padded on the wood softly. Yoongi watched him for a second before he followed behind. If he planned to win this little game, he needed to see what he was up against.

Taehyung took him to a nearby natural pond. It was surrounded by stones, balancing on top of each other, an old hibernating plum blossom hanging over it and dropping the final pretty pink flowers into the nearly clear water. A black horse with silky fur stood nearby, dipping its head leisurely to drink from time to time.

The sky had turned into its pretty shade of orange, sun setting, the light hitting Taehyung’s face, illuminating his honey complexion that had darkened slightly in the early summer. The palace stood strong a few feet away, its gates open to allow any new arrivals for tomorrow’s ceremony. Everything seemed wonderfully serene, unmoved by all the quiet chaos inside the palace. The town below the small hill where the palace stood looked peaceful, preparing for the incoming festivities.

“This is Mei,” Taehyung said going over to pet the horse.

Mei was stunning, obviously strong, dark haired and shining fur. She let out a little gruff sound when Taehyung ran his hands against her fur. “She’s a little shy so no one gets to ride her, but I take her out sometimes and she lets me. I think animals are just a little misunderstood,” Taehyung said, continuing to run his hand against Mei’s side.

Yoongi had no idea what to say, what Taehyung wanted from him or what his plan was. He wanted to ask, but somehow felt afraid, knowing for some reason that Taehyung would tell the truth, so he simply sat by the water and watched Taehyung.

“Hyung wanted you to volunteer to fight,” Taehyung murmured after a moment as Mei leaned into him further, as if she was trying to make herself smaller so he could hug her. He grinned back at her, cooing as he petted her. Yoongi didn’t say anything, waiting for Taehyung to continue. “He wanted to watch you use your knives.”

That set the alarm bells. No one knew about his knives. He had hidden them away safely. There was no way Taehyung knew he had them. “My knives?” Yoongi croaked uneasily.

Taehyung turned away from Mei and looked at him, smiling, but there was something menacing about it.

“Well, not your knives,” Taehyung amended, making Yoongi breathe a little easier, but the next thing made him seize up once more. “Rumour has it you are excellent with knives, hyung.” Taehyung moved away from Mei, but she only followed, nudging him in the back, making him laugh a little, showing all his teeth in a boxy grin.

If it wasn’t for the ominous feeling all around, Yoongi would have been endeared.

Would have.

“Anyway, he wanted you to volunteer. You would have fought me.”

This was interesting. Once again, very little was known about the youngest Kim and this was news to Yoongi. It was evident that Taehyung was pretty, but nothing about him said he was a fighter. He was lithe and tall, with a solid body but he was constantly under oversized robes, Yoongi couldn’t really tell.

“Would I have won?” Yoongi asked, shuffling his feet.

Taehyung shrugged and Mei moved away as if sensing the growing tension between the two. “We could find out?”

“I’m afraid the guards might arrest me if they see me knife fighting with one of the kingdom’s heirs.”

Something flashed in Taehyung’s eyes at the word ‘heir’, and Yoongi couldn’t tell what it was.

“Oh c’mon, hyung, you win, I tell you a secret. If I win, you have to answer any question I ask you.”

“What is it about secrets that you like so much, Taehyung?”

Taehyung ran his hand through the water, watching as the water rippled after his hand. “Secrets are the currency of Yeosu, hyung.”

Yoongi bit his lip considering the younger, everything suddenly burning. “Fine,” Yoongi murmured, not really sure what he was getting into. He was more than confident in his skills. Yoongi was good.  He was better than anyone he had sparred against, but he had no idea how good Taehyung was and that worried him.

“You probably have a knife on you right now,” Taehyung said knowingly, slipping one out himself from his outer robe. It wasn’t long, nor very impressive but it was a knife alright. Yoongi considered lying that he didn’t have one but what would be the point. He followed suit, pulling out his own from an inner pocket. It was the pocket knife, compact and not really sharp. What he’d give to have his father’s knives with him.

Taehyung stepped away from the pond and stood in front of Yoongi, the gravel crunching under his feet. Yoongi looked at the nearby gates, Taehyung’s personal guard looking on curiously.

As if reading Yoongi’s thoughts, Taehyung rose a hand and made a gesture with his fingers. The guard turned away.

He grinned and crouched, gleaming knife in his hand as the orange sky bloomed. Yoongi watched his eyes and then his hand before moving back to Taehyung’s eyes. It was always in the eyes.

Taehyung launched first and Yoongi dodged quickly. They ended up switching positions. Taehyung’s head cocked to the side and Yoongi smirked, launching at him and jutting his knife forward. A pocket knife was definitely not ideal but it did the trick. He missed Taehyung by an inch, who in turn grabbed his elbow and twisted. Yoongi fought the urge to scream, writhing out of the younger’s grip and managing to graze his side. The expensive silk of the robe split open and Taehyung looked at it for a moment, losing the confident smile, flipping his knife in his hand before moving forward again, Yoongi blocked his advance but somewhere in that process, Taehyung had switched hands and was now using his left, managing to cut Yoongi’s arm which was only protected by a thin sleeve.

Yoongi hissed, feeling the blood start to trickle out.

“You’re good,” Yoongi breathed.

“You sound surprised, hyung.” There was a laugh in Taehyung’s voice as he launched again, eyes hard and intimidating, the switch from innocent doe eyed boy to—this, astounding. Yoongi dodged in time and made quick work of crouching and going for Taehyung’s leg. He made contact, earning a hiss from Taehyung which was more than satisfying. Yoongi didn’t let up, going for the other leg but not really touching him.

Frustrated, Taehyung grabbed his arm and pulled him closer until their bodies were flush against each other, eye to eye, breathing heavily. Taehyung’s eyes were a pretty golden brown, a birth mark on the tip of his nose, lips perfectly pink. It was difficult not to stare at the cupid’s bow or the pool of golden eyes under the orange sun. It was very fucking difficult when Taehyung slipped out his tongue and ran it along his bottom lip.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a while, but when Yoongi’s mind finally clicked into gear, he put up his knife to Taehyung’s throat. The younger grinned, as if enjoying this position very much.

“I guess you win,” Taehyung breathed.

Yoongi smiled, noting that their bodies were still pressed against each other. “And I guess you owe me a secret.”

Taehyung laughed. “Drop the knife first?”

Coming back to his senses, Yoongi dropped it, like it was made of hot metal and took a big step away from Taehyung, noting how warm his body felt or how Taehyung’s eyes looked in the setting sun.

 “Jeonju’s plan will fail,” Taehyung murmured after a moment.

 Yoongi almost groaned but kept face neutral. “What plan?” he asked innocently.

Taehyung laughed at that. “The plan the consort proposed to you last night? You were supposed to meet her in the gardens this afternoon weren’t you?”

Yoongi’s mind was wiped of all thoughts surrounding Taehyung’s mouth and eyes. It was a mistake to think of Taehyung as pretty. Pretty held a certain innocence and as much as Taehyung feigned it, as each day passed, Yoongi saw that he was anything but.  “I—” Yoongi began. “I wasn’t going to meet her.”

Taehyung shrugged, like he didn’t care. “My secret for you is that Jin knows about Jeonju. The only problem is he doesn’t know when or how.”

“That doesn’t seem like much of a secret nor my problem,” Yoongi said simply.

Brushing himself off and analysing himself for any blood, Taehyung nodded. “No, it’s not your problem.” He gave Yoongi that smile that did not reach his eyes. “Your problem is that once Jin is crowned king, the regent is going to convince him to encroach further north. By doing that, he cuts further into your family’s land. More raids, more raping and more deaths.” Taehyung breathed. “Jin-hyung doesn’t want to do that, but if he is dead, the regent ascends to the throne in the time being. Guess what he’ll do to convince the nobles to let him keep the royal crown instead of giving it to Namjoon-hyung?”

Yoongi could well guess.

“I suppose you want me to find out more about Jeonju’s plans from Hye-Jin?” Yoongi asked, blood pumping a thousand miles. He felt light-headed all of a sudden, perhaps it was the blood coming from his arm. Taehyung looked untouched, breathing normally. Completely in control.

“Yes,” he murmured back.

“Do Jin-hyung or Jimin know about this?” Yoongi was scrambling. How he had gotten to a stage where keeping Jin alive was in his best interests.

“Not yet,” Taehyung said simply, offering nothing else.

Yoongi felt the urge to laugh, so he did, just a little one of realisation. “You lost on purpose, didn’t you?”

Taehyung shrugged, walking back to Mei and brushing his hands on her fur as she looked at the two men. “Does it matter?”

It really didn’t.

It was clear Yoongi would have ended up doing Taehyung’s bidding either way.

Chapter Text

Coronation Day

It was the day. Coronation day.

Yet, the palace rouse itself awake quietly. The summer birds chirped somewhere in the trees and the servants calmly finalised preparations for the day’s events. There was a low buzz surrounding everything, a quiet excitement of a new era. A new king to look up to. Young but not wicked like his father.

Jimin felt anything but calm as he stood in front of the Regent of Yeosu. Kim Yoo Chun regarded him closely, still dressed in his sleeping robes, eyes tired but alert, glinting in the morning light that spilled into his chambers. His perfectly dark hair was mussed all over and in his bed lay a woman, still deep in her slumber unaware that she had just fucked the devil himself. Part of her naked body was on display and it definitely did not belong to the regent’s wife.

Yoo Chun poured himself a cup of water as Jimin stood in the centre of the room, trying not to show his nervousness, but his palms sweated, a lump lodged in his throat. He had always hated these chambers, knew what they represented and despised the memory.

“It’s good to see you, Jimin-ah,” Yoo Chun said with a charming smile. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to pry you away from your precious master, hasn’t it? Do you miss me?”

Jimin felt the sour bile rise up his throat.

He had been fifteen when Yoo Chun first approached him. The king had taken his sons away on a hunting trip and Jimin was left in the palace, bored out of his mind with none of Jin’s shenanigans to keep him busy and clean up after.

Yoo Chun had taken him along to one of the brothels in the city. It was a famous one, crawling with high-ranking military men who spent silver coins like they meant nothing, on drugs and on sex. Jimin felt small around them, around the beautiful women and men who draped themselves all over the soldiers and batted their eyelashes, waiting to be chosen and compensated well in return.

Jimin had sipped on the wine in front of them slowly, watching carefully as Yoo Chun talked to the army general and his men. They discussed lands to conquer and villages to loot, the best strategies to utilise and the king’s ridiculous orders. He hated being there, wishing to go back to the palace and play with Jin or Namjoon—even Taehyung and his badly behaved horses.

Yoo Chun had handed the general a contract, which he looked over and shoved in his pockets. Jimin did not know what the contract held, but he remembered the generals sun burnt cracked lips stretching into a smile and saying, “To seal this deal, I think I deserve a gift, don’t you think Yoo Chun-ie?”

“Oh?” Yoo Chun had said confidently, leisurely sitting back on the cushion and eyeing the general, ever the picture of confidence despite the lack of genuine power except being a Kim.

The general’s eyes fell on Jimin, running through his body like a wild cat salivating for a deer. “None of the boys in here come close to your boy over here.” He nodded at Jimin with what he thought was an attractive smile. It wasn’t.

“And so?”

“I’ll agree to help you if you give him to me.” He paused, leering at Jimin. “Just for a few minutes.”

Jimin’s heart pounded against his chest, forcing him to take in a sharp breath. He remembered looking at the regent, hoping the man would read his eyes begging him to say no, but the man already had a twinkle in his eye. The possibility of more power too tempting to pass up for a mere servant, even if that servant solely belonged to his nephew.

Yoo Chun shrugged.  “You can have him but don’t leave any marks on him. No one is to know about this.”

With those simple words, the deal was sealed. Yoo Chun urged him forward and the general led Jimin to a bed chamber, wide eyed and afraid. It was overdone and had the cloying scent of incense, the bedding slightly gaudy, but he had no time to judge.

The general hadn’t said much to him, had simply shoved him onto the bed and had his way with him.

Jimin didn’t like to think of it, but looking at the regent always brought back the memory of his first time. After that, whenever the regent could, Jimin would be stolen away and given to whichever man or woman desired him in the interests of Yeosu. One night, the regent decided he wanted to see for himself. Wanted to see what was so good about Jimin.

“If you ever mention any of this to Seokjin, I will have you drowned in the river and fed to the pigs,” he had threatened once. “Anyway, this is for Seokjin’s own good. Think of it like that. You’re helping his position by doing this.”

And perhaps in a twisted way, the regent was right.

“What were you doing with the governor of Jeonju?” Yoo Chun asked, walking towards Jimin slowly.

Jimin had learnt not to be afraid of the regent anymore. All he felt was anger towards the man, amplified in this moment and he couldn’t wait to see the man before him die.

The night before, Jin had come back from meeting with the regent with his face flushed, looking angry, a look unfamiliar on his usually playful face, especially directed at Jimin.

“How did you get the governor to talk?” he had asked Jimin quietly, fiddling with a ring on his finger.

Jimin wanted to lie but he couldn’t. Jin already knew the truth anyway. “I did what I had to do,” he answered instead.

Jin had turned to him, eyes burning with anger, enough to make Jimin take a tentative step back. “You let that pig touch you for some petty information that we could have gotten another way?” He breathed deeply. “You could have told me.”

In response, Jimin lifted his chin. “You have other things to worry about, Exalted.”

“I think it’s my choice to decide what I worry about.” He paused. “Do you know what the palace will say if it finds out? They’ll call you a whore.”

Jimin refused to be embarrassed. He had done this for Jin after all and he couldn’t even see it. “Are you afraid I will embarrass you, Exalted? Afraid it makes you look weak? Your personal whore fucking other men?”

Jin’s eyes had gone wide, like he had been slapped. He opened his mouth to retort but nothing came out, instead all he could say was, “Jimin..”

This was going all wrong. Jin had looked so, so angry at Jimin’s words. He wanted to take them back immediately, say something to stop Jin from looking at him like that.

“It was the fastest way we were ever going to find out anything,” Jimin amended stiffly. “You know Jeonju has weapons and you know they are planning something. This is good.”

“No one touches you, Jimin. I’ve made this clear.”

A wave of shame ran through Jimin’s body, his own anger rising a notch. If only Jin knew how wrong he was about that. He was spoiled already and Jimin wondered how the prince would feel about that once he found out. “It’s my body. I do what I want with it,” Jimin shot back.

Jin took a step back and smiling bitterly at Jimin. “Wrong,” he murmured quietly. “You belong to me, Jimin-ah.”

It was glaringly true. Jimin knew that. There were no misconceptions about that, but he had hoped that somewhere along the line, he had earned enough of Jin’s respect to not be reminded of that. It was like a slap in the face.

“You think I wanted to do it? You think I have ever wanted to—” he stopped himself, hearing his voice crack and hating it. He couldn’t tell Jin about all the other times his uncle had sold him off. The one time his uncle had tried him out. Jin didn’t own his body. The whole palace did.

“You will die, Jin! Then what?” His voice was shaking now, tears stinging his eyes, one escaping accidentally down his cheek. Jimin didn’t wipe it away.

He had never fought Jin. Not like this anyway. It was all wrong. It felt wrong. Jin could feel it too by the way his eyes softened and his mouth fell open, realising what was happening. He reached out a hand before dropping it. They weren’t friends. They couldn’t be and Jimin was just a servant.

So, he bowed quickly and said, “Excuse me, Exalted,” before rushing to his own room, fighting the tears.

“I asked you a question,” Yoo Chun said bringing Jimin back to the moment.

“What I do in my free time is not your concern, your grace,” Jimin bit back.

There was a loud crack and it was too late before Jimin realised the man had just slapped him across the face. The burn registered a second later, but he did not move, simply stared at the regent, mouth hard, anger burning through him. He had never wanted to see a man die so desperately.

No matter how much Yoo Chun slapped him, he would never tell him the real reason. It was petty in a way, but the regent would ruin everything. Neither him or Jin knew what Jeonju wanted. Jimin needed to talk to Taehyung first and maybe Yoongi.

“You’re just like Seokjin. So petulant.” The regent moved away from him and the woman in his bed stirred. “You think you know anything? Always so consumed with your childish games. It would have been better if Namjoon was the oldest.” Yoo Chun sounded exasperated and Jimin basked in his frustration. “So fucking juvenile playing all these stupid games.”

Yoo Chun sounded terribly bitter and Jimin revelled in it, cheek still stinging.

“He needs a wife or the council won’t settle down,” Yoo Chun stated.

Jimin wanted to laugh. This is why he had been summoned? The regent should have known his own nephew better than that. Jin had no intention to marry and it was silly to believe that a worried council could change his mind.

“The Exalted is not someone you can force things upon, your grace. This is common knowledge.” Jimin sounded particularly condescending today and he could tell it was getting on the regent’s nerves.

“Convince him to pick a wife or else—”

“I can’t convince him of anything, your grace. I’m just a servant.”

The regent’s jaw clenched as he eyed Jimin then he laughed loudly. “Ahh, Jimin-ah. Do you want to keep him all to yourself?” He made his way to Jimin. “Men don’t marry men in Yeosu, much less servants,” Yoo Chun said. “Convince him or I’ll take you as far away from him as I possibly can.” He yanked the end of Jimin’s sleeve. “All these fine clothes and luxuries will be gone when you’re sweeping the dungeons or waving your ass in the air for a bowl of rice in some shitty village brothel.”

Jimin stood there, anger coursing through him as Yoo Chun moved back to the bed where the woman slept. He put his hand on her breast and placed a kissed on the other. Disgusted, Jimin looked away. “You can leave,” Yoo Chun said distractedly. “But make sure you convince him this is the best move for him.”

Now Jimin stood in front of Jin’s door. The coronation began in exactly five hours and Jimin’s hands were shaking. He wasn’t sure of the reason. Was he still angry at the regent or at Jin?

Either way, he had a job to do.

As he entered the room, three servants arranged a new batch of flowers, white chrysanthemums and orchids, Jin’s favourite. Jin sat by a carved dark wood desk, writing something on some parchment in black ink, loose robe revealing a bare shoulder.

The servants bowed to Jimin, mumbling a good morning and he did so in turn before they got back to their duties, fixing the bed and refilling oil in the lamps.

Jimin cleared his throat. “Exalted,” he said, bowing as Jin turned to him. “The high priestess requests to see you at sundown.”

That’s how the proceedings would go. Jin would visit the sacred room where all the kings and queens’ ashes were stored, with the high priestess. No one except Jin could know the proceedings that took place in there. From there, Jin would return to the palace and sit in the throne room before the council declared him king. From there, he would visit the city below the hill and the rest of Yeosu would bow to him. The celebrations would continue into the night and morning. It was simple really, not much ceremony attached to it, but Jimin felt nervous. Something they had been preparing for since the king had died was finally here and nothing about it felt right.

Jin didn’t say anything for a second, moving off the stool and standing, robe slipping further to reveal the beginning of Jin’s chest and sharp collar bones. Jimin had seen him naked too many times to count, but there was something about seeing him like this at that moment. Hair messy, morning light pouring into the room, illuminating his silhouette and his slightly puffy eyes. Something so vulnerable.

“Leave us,” Jin finally said softly to the other servants in the room.

They immediately stopped their work, dropping the decanters  full of oils and scurried out. Jimin knew the rumours the palace servants liked to pass around, the main one being that Jin fucked Jimin in private. It made him an anomaly in a palace such as this where like secrets, sex was a currency and flaunting it was a norm.

After a beat, Jimin opened his mouth to continue recounting Jin’s schedule but the elder stopped him, lifting a hand.

“I want to apologise,” he said quietly.

Suddenly, Jimin felt petty, crossing his arms across his chest and arched an eyebrow. “For what?”

That prompted a small laugh from Jin. “You know what.”

“I really don’t, Exalted.” He was doing it on purpose to let Jin squirm for a bit. He deserved it.

Jin sighed loudly, taking a step forward until he was just a touch away from Jimin.

“I don’t own you, Jimin-ah. You were right and I am grateful I have someone like you next to me. What I said last night was--”

“You were embarrassed,” Jimin finished. It was something he hadn’t wanted to admit to himself. If men in the palace found out about Jimin and the governor of Jeonju, rumours would fly and Jin would be implicated. Jimin knew what they’d say, how good of a king could Seokjin be if he couldn’t please his own servant. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he looked at Jin, whose eyes were equally sad.  

“Jimin-ah,” he said softly, taking a step forward before sighing, realising how close they were. “I don’t want you using your body for things like that.  I could give a fuck what people say and you know that.” Jin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re worth so much more than the that man. Than any man in this palace.”

Jimin felt his body relax, something washing away and regret filling him. Jin looked so sorry for him and the younger hated it. Hated how Jin looked at him with pity when he’d rather have him look at him in another way.

“I didn’t sleep with him,” Jimin said quietly, not sure why exactly he was clarifying. “I—”

Jin stopped him, smiling gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”

Jimin wanted to tell him though. He wanted Jin to know everything. He felt his throat lodge up again. If only he hadn’t been born a servant. If only…

“I’m sorry,” Jin continued. “For everything. I wish you didn’t do it but I’m also grateful. So thank you.”

Jimin nodded, choosing to accept the apology. Today was supposed to be a happy day. By the end of the night, Jin would officially be king and he could get rid of that damned uncle of his, and that awful governor. Min Yoongi though, continued to be a mystery.

“Shall I call them back? You have lots to prepare.”

Jin shook his head and breathed. “No, I’d rather—” he stopped himself from continuing and Jimin couldn’t read him. Couldn’t see what Jin wanted. Never could. “Can we pretend?”

“Pretend what?” Jimin’s voice was unsteady.

Jin was quiet for a second, watching Jimin’s face carefully. He smiled a little. “Remember that one time my father took my brothers and I hunting and they allowed me to bring you along?” Jin asked.

Jimin recalled that week with a fond smile. He remembered them swimming in the river, lying in the meadow, watching Taehyung try his best to tame the wild boar in the forest and Namjoon mutter about how stupid it was because the whole point of a wild boar was the fact that it was in fact—wild.

“That night I convinced you to sneak away with me to the river?” Jin continued.

Something fluttered in Jimin’s chest. That night they had felt like friends. Jin had dragged him through the shrubs of the forest, holding his hand and shushing him as Jimin complained that he’d be in trouble if anyone found out.

“No one will find out, and if they do, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“You didn’t call me ‘my prince’ or ‘Exalted’ that night,” Jin said, still watching Jimin carefully, paying attention to every reaction, careful with his words. “For today, in this room, can we pretend we are friends? Equals.”

Jimin’s breath hitched. It wasn’t much but it was something. The offering of friendship—something. Even if it was only going to last for a few minutes. And Jimin’s fatal flaw had always been giving into any of Jin’s whims. Whether it be sneaking out or stealing all of Namjoon’s books or Taehyung’s dried flowers. He always said yes. 

“Exalted—”

Jin shook his head. “No.”

Jimin sighed deeply. “Hyung—”

Once again, Jin shook his head, this time a grin spreading on his soft lips, making everything inside Jimin set on fire. He bit his lip for a moment, willing himself to say it.

 “Seokjin. Jin.” The sound left his lips softly, carefully, like he wasn’t sure he could actually say it. It wasn’t his place to say his name—it wasn’t anyone’s, yet Jin was letting him.

Jimin didn’t know what to think so he laughed at the ridiculous smile on Jin’s lips. “This is so silly. You have to meet your brothers in an hour and then the council before you go to the high priestess.”

Jin shrugged, adjusting his robe and covering his bare shoulder. “We have an hour then,” Jin said, moving to his bed and sitting with his legs crossed.

Jimin fought the smile that was threatening the corners of his lips. Jin looked boyish with the ruffled hair and the loose robe around his shoulders. He desperately wanted to be friends. Wanted to sit next to him and talk about nothing important.

Jin tilted his head to the side. “You’re thinking about something,” he murmured quietly.

Jimin didn’t know where to begin. From Yoo Chun’s threat to the glaring problem that was Jeonju or Min Yoongi. There were so many things to consider and Jimin wanted to ignore them all.

“You offered the advisor from Suncheon a place on the council. Your uncle won’t like it. Chan is not from a noble family. The council is already unsettled.”

Jin smiled angelically at Jimin. “I’m overhauling the council.”

One day, Jimin was going to die from heart palpitations caused by the chaos that was Seokjin. He didn’t know when but one day.

“Hyung—”

“Before you tell me that I’m being irresponsible, think about it like this. Half of those men on the council are old and don’t want to see me crowned king. I trust none of them and if I plan to make Yeosu successful and safe from clans from the east then I sure as hell need to have people who won’t have me killed in my sleep.”

It was a reasonable argument, Jimin knew that, but he also knew none of them were going to take it well. The council was a historical body, filled with nobles and royals that had been influential for centuries. Jin overhauling it was bound to start a few fires.

“Are you sure you want this much backlash at the beginning of your rule?” Jimin asked sceptically.

Jin sighed deeply through his nose before tapping the bed. Jimin stood there, not sure what to do.

“Can we think about all of this tomorrow?” Jin asked. “We’re pretending remember?”

It was foolish to wish for anything more.

It really was, but Jin was smiling at him so warmly and Jimin had never been able to resist anyway. He went over and sat on the bed, knees almost touching Jin’s.

Jin fell back on the bed with a soft flop, his hair falling into his eyes. “Sometimes I wish things could be different.”

And Jimin simply looked out the window, at the soldiers doing their exercises in the warm summer air, breathing deeply. “Different in what way?” Jimin asked, heart in throat. “You’re getting everything you wished for.”

Jin laughed quietly, shutting his eyes and sighing, “Not everything.”

Jimin said nothing, kept staring out at the courtyard as he felt Jin’s hand touch his and let their fingers intertwine.

                                                                                                            ***

Ahn Hye-Jin smiled at Yoongi, sitting gracefully in the sun room. She was flanked by several ladies in waiting, still and dainty as they embroidered pieces of cloth. Today, she was wrapped in blush pink silks, her eyes less severe, but her mouth curved into a smirk that Yoongi did not trust.

Confidence like hers in a court such as this was a dangerous thing to have.

“You didn’t come,” she said, sounding disinterested in his presence.

Yoongi shifted on his feet. He already had an excuse in mind, begrudgingly so, because the last thing he wanted to do was help Taehyung. Yet, it was the most logical thing to do for his home. Last night he had lay awake in his bed, weighing his options. He could kill Seokjin, but if he did, his death was guaranteed, or perhaps years of torture before his body finally gave in.

On the other hand, he could find out Jeonju’s plans and report them to Taehyung. In return, his home would be protected and he would have done something that he swore he would never do—help a Kim ascend to the throne. The thought made Yoongi’s skin crawl.

He remembered the night his father’s body had arrived at their home. It was only a few years ago, rain hitting the turrets harshly as the soldiers walked in with mournful looks on their faces. He remembered his mother rushing to his father’s still body, marred with scars from battle and sobbing uncontrollably as his aunts and uncles surround her, trying to calm her down.

When they had set his father out to sea during a wintry afternoon, he had watched his mother go silent, stop crying and stop moving. Grief possessing everything inside her.

His uncle had reported that the attack had been carried out by soldiers from Yeosu, but they had not let this news spread—telling everyone that his father was killed in a hunting incident in an effort to avoid rogue rebellions. Yoongi hated it. Hated the Kims for what they had done.

An eye for an eye.

Blood for blood.

Yet, Yoongi knew blind revenge wouldn’t help his home. It was a selfish thing to want to kill Jin. Jin staying alive would be better for the north. Taehyung was right after all. Perhaps he needed Jin more than he cared to admit.

Yoongi shrugged, looking at Hye Jin carefully. “I got caught up.”

Hye-Jin arched an eyebrow. “I see,” she murmured. “I suppose your cousin told you everything?”

Yoongi had to stop his eyebrows from shooting up.

“Has he not told you what we discussed?” Hye-Jin asked, noticing his reaction as she stood from her seat as the women around her shifted, but didn’t seem to be paying attention to the scene before them. She let out a little laugh. “I asked him to join me in my chambers but he refused me. What a noble little thing.” 

Yoongi stood in place as Hye-Jin came up to him, stopping a breath away.

He swallowed, reeling from the information. What the fuck was Jeongguk thinking?

“I’m sorry, Hye-Jin-ssi, I have not had the time to catch up with my cousin.”

She smiled at that, wickedly, as if she knew something Yoongi had not caught onto yet. “Well, we couldn’t possibly discuss our business on such a blessed day, could we?” She moved back to her seat and crossed her legs, just as a queen would sitting upon a throne. “I suppose you’ll know what Jeonju’s intentions are soon enough. I hope you have your decision by then, your grace. Remember what the Kim family has done to your family. What they did to your father.”

“I’m surprised you speak so openly in a palace such as this, Hye-Jin-ssi,” Yoongi said evenly. He could tell she wanted to appear in control but Yoongi wasn’t buying it. Hye-Jin was a spokesperson for someone.

Her husband?

Unlikely.

The governor of Jeonju was incompetent at best. He had been grossly outsmarted by Jimin already.

Hye-Jin laughed loudly, letting her head fall back before smiling back at Yoongi. “Do you think I do not have men high up in Seokjin’s court myself?”

She turned to one of the ladies next to her and snapped her finger. The lady—barely a teenager scurried to her feet and bowed before her.

“Fetch me some wine.” With that, the girl ran out of the room no doubt to retrieve what the queen wished for.

Hye-Jin turned back to Yoongi and shrugged a shoulder. “Your grace, perhaps you should decide which side you stand. The north is important for Jeonju—I would hate it if my husband went on one of his pillaging adventures in your lands.”

Yoongi felt uneasy. Hye-Jin was too obvious—too confident that whatever plan her and her husband had concocted would work. Even if they had spies within the palace, so did Jin. He almost wanted to tell her not to dismiss Jin, but he held his tongue.

Which side did he stand on?

Yoongi bowed before the consort. “Thank you for your time, Hye-Jin-ssi.”

In a surprising act of respect, Hye-Jin stood and bowed lowly. “My prince,” she murmured before eyeing him carefully. 

With that, Yoongi moved out of the room, weary of the guards that stood in the wooden panelled hallway. He needed to find Hoseok and Jeongguk.

Jeongguk as per usual, was not apologetic. “You can’t be seen with her, hyung. I told you more people are watching you than you think. I was going to tell you what I learnt today.”

Yoongi wasn’t convinced. “Jeongguk, you don’t understand. I—”

“You were going to get yourself killed by slitting Jin-hyung’s throat?” he deadpanned.

Yoongi’s eyes met Hoseok, who looked equally unapologetic. Hoseok clenched his jaw, challenging Yoongi to say something. For a moment, they stared each other down, until Yoongi decided it was pointless.

Either way, he had made his decision. Killing Jin would be reckless and as much as he despised the elder, there was a lot to be gained with what he knew.

“This is pointless, hyung,” Hoseok finally said. “You need to tell Jin-hyung about Jeonju.”

Yoongi had told both Jeongguk and Hoseok about Hye-Jin, even his suspicions that Hye-Jin spoke for someone else. “There’s no guarantee he’ll give us back our southern border. I can’t trust him or Taehyung.”

Hoseok was quiet for a second. “Maybe I can talk to Namjoon?”

Jeongguk looked at Yoongi then at Hoseok. “What is going on with you two?”

Hoseok shrugged, unfazed by the question but Yoongi could spot his ears turning red. “Nothing. He’s just the only decent one in this place.”

Yoongi narrowed his eyes at his friend but chose to say nothing. What Hoseok chose to do with Namjoon was really none of his business.

“No one is decent in this palace hyung. Others just hide it better,” Jeongguk said quietly.

Both Yoongi and Hoseok turned to the younger eyes wide. “Who are you and what have you done with Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk only rolled his eyes and turned his full body to Yoongi. “We want the southern border back, right?”

The other two nodded. “We need to speak to Jin-hyung. We tell him what we know, we get the southern border back and as soon as the coronation ends—we get the fuck out of here.”

“Language,” both Yoongi and Hoseok said to Jeongguk who stuck up his middle finger at them.

Yoongi grinned at his younger cousin. “Our little Jeonggukie is growing up.”

Once again, Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Let’s go. The sooner we leave—the better.”

                                                                                                            ***

Yoongi looked at Taehyung closely, leaning against a table, arms crossed as Jeongguk recalled his meeting with Hye-Jin to Jin, Namjoon, Taehyung and surprisingly; Chan. Two guards that by now Yoongi recognised stood near the wooden doors. It was almost noon and the sun was high up.

In the courtyard, soldiers stood in their full uniform, swords stored in their sheaths, waiting eagerly for the celebrations to begin. Below in the city, men, women and children prepared large pots of food, rushing about the city in a panic, worried that there wouldn’t be enough to go around for this uncle and that aunt visiting from whatever miniscule village from somewhere. The wine and beer had been transported to Yeosu in its gallons, filling barrels till they overflowed and it would be a night of debauchery and chaos. Servants hadn’t slept in days to ensure that the opulence and luxury of the day could be felt and seen everywhere.

A show of Yeosu’s power.

Now, the most important family stood in a wooden panelled room, beautifully printed walls, a long table in the centre with a map of Yeosu and all its surrounding land placed atop it.

“She wasn’t specific,” Jeongguk said to Jin carefully. “I think she might still be suspicious of Yoongi-hyung.”

Yoongi shifted eyes away from Taehyung and back to Jeongguk who seemed a little nervous under all the prying gazes of powerful men. “I doubt it’s a full out attack. I think they’ll set out to bring chaos to your court, hyung. That chaos will lead to distrust and eventually a rebellion within your council. It’s a long game, it seems.”

Next to Jin stood Jimin who looked a little distressed. Today, Yoongi noted, the servant did not look in full control. He looked worried and he kept gazing at Jin as Jeongguk spoke.

Jin nodded slowly, before turning to Yoongi. “What do you think I should do, Yoongi?” he asked with a smile.

Yoongi matched it and shrugged, the irony not lost on him. Here he was strategizing with Jin when he had his knives ready to slice his throat. It was a little sad if he thought about it. What would his father think?

Cringing, he decided not to dwell on it.

“It’s a little unfair to ask for my advice when you’re offering nothing in return, hyung,” Yoongi murmured.

Jin, who stood on the other end of the table tilted his head slightly just as Namjoon whispered something to Hoseok.

“I suppose you already know what you want?” he arched an eyebrow. “The southern border?”

Yoongi couldn’t help but think this was all too easy. All he had to do was sell some information and suddenly Jin would be willing to give up land the Min and Kim family had been fighting over for centuries. Yoongi couldn’t trust Jin. Couldn’t trust the sly smile or the confident gait. It would be foolish to and Yoongi prided himself on not being a foolish man.

“That border has always belonged to my family,” Yoongi said carefully.

Jin shrugged nonchalantly. “I know that and I’m not disputing it.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up, so did Jeongguk’s. Why was Jin being so pliant? What was his angle?

“You can have your border back, Yoongi.” He paused, clicking his fingers as if he had just recalled something. “In fact, I sent some of my soldiers up there upon your arrival to send word to your family and the villagers that they are once again part of the north.”

“Exalted—” Hoseok began but Jin cut him off.

“You would be right to believe that I’m not doing this out of the goodness of my own heart.” He walked round the table, moving closer to where Yoongi stood next to Jeongguk. “You share a border with Jeonju, and if Jeonju attempts to march, then I now have soldiers from the Mins ready to stop them, don’t I?”

Kim Seokjin was a worthy king, Yoongi thought. It made sense, the way he carried himself. He always knew he was a step ahead of everyone else.

“So we get our land back and in return my soldiers march for you?” Yoongi recounted. “I’m sorry, hyung. We already helped you with Jeonju. Whatever this is—” Yoongi gestured around the room. “Isn’t ours to fight. The north is independent. If we march for you, we become a tributary state and my father would haunt me if that ever happened.”

At that, Jin laughed, eye crinkling at the corners. “You’re right. Which is why I have another offer.”

“Hyung—” Namjoon started.

“I’d like to offer you a seat on my council.”

This time, Yoongi laughed loudly. It was a joke. It had to be. Yoongi had just pointed out that the north was independent. Being on the council confirmed that they would become a tributary and Yoongi wasn’t joking about his father haunting him. The last thing he wanted was to get involved with Yeosu’s politics. The council was right in the eye of the storm.

“As thankful as I am, Jin-hyung. I’d have to decline.”

“The north is a shadow of what it used to be,” Jin said.

“Thanks to your father,” Yoongi retorted.

“Precisely,” Jin said a little too chirpily. “I’m not my father, Yoongi. You have no reason to like me. In fact, I’d understand if you wished to kill me.” He waited for a moment, still smiling, but eyes sharp, looking for something. “The north could be a potential ally. I trust you can rebuild and we can create a great alliance that benefits us both. In the meantime, you sit on my council whilst I offer my protection in return.”

“And I have my army ready to fight for you,” Yoongi finished. “Why would you want me on your council, hyung?”

Jin shrugged. “You’re smart,” he said. “For all I know you could be playing both Jeonju and I right now and I find that intriguing. I like smart people.” He turned to face Taehyung for a moment before looking at Yoongi again. “Plus, you come highly recommended.”

Yoongi’s eyes fell on Taehyung who was looking at him closely. “I’d have to think about it,” Yoongi murmured finally.

This seemed to satisfy Jin enough who bowed his head slightly. “Take all the time you need,” he said before turning to Jeongguk and then Hoseok. “Thank you for all your help. Please look forward to tonight. I’m positive you will enjoy the—entertainment.”

Smiling, he bowed once more and everyone in the room bowed lowly before he walked out of the room, Jimin next to him and guards in tow.

For a moment, Yoongi stood there, a little uneasy, but not surprised at all. This was exactly who Seokjin was.  Inducting a new council when he knew it would cause mayhem. In a way, Yoongi suspected that chaos was exactly what Jin was after.

“Thank you, hyung,” Taehyung said, his deep voice bringing Yoongi out of his daze.

“Why are you thanking me?”

“Because,” Taehyung shrugged, “Keeping Jin-hyung alive keeps me alive too.”

With that, he bowed before them and followed out of the room, bare feet soft on the wooden floor.

Next was Namjoon who smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have to apologise for my brother. He tends to have a flare for the dramatics.” He paused. “But it would be an honour to have someone like you on the council, Yoongi-hyung.” He turned to Hoseok and Jeongguk. “I have to get ready. See you at the celebrations.”

With that, he bowed his head and the rest of the room bowed in return.

Yoongi stood there for a while, reeling from Jin’s offer. In a matter of minutes he had just been offered a seat on the council and the southern border back. It all seemed too easy, like he was missing something important.

Keeping Jin-hyung alive keeps me alive too.

And what the hell did Taehyung mean by that?

                                                                                                            ***

Jimin knelt in front of the dark red doors, carved with golden patterns, with thick iron handles. In front of him, kneeling too, were Namjoon, Taehyung along with the regent and his wife—not the woman in his chambers from earlier. Men from the council; thirteen of them also knelt in front of the doors, eyes cast down waiting for the new king of Yeosu to resurface, not knowing their positions were in jeopardy. The room itself wasn’t large, but it was filled with flowers and the thick smell of sandalwood incense that had begun making everyone in the room dizzy. There were stone statues around, sculptures of early rulers and nobles. It was sacred ground and everyone knelt in silence, waiting for their new king.

Jin had been with the high priestess for an hour now, and they had all waited, kneeling until they could barely feel their knees.  But this was the custom of Yeosu. No one knew the happenings inside the temple like room, where all the previous kings and queens’ ashes were stored. It was forbidden to enter unless you were the high priestess, a king or a queen.

Once Jin resurfaced, he would be said king.

The palace would bow to him in the courtyard and he would be gifted his father’s sword, a sword that had existed for over two-hundred years. There were no crowns, no frills, just the historical sword that would one day be passed to Jin’s own son or daughter.

Jimin knelt, thinking of earlier. The way Jin had gently held his hand, the way Jimin had softly fallen back on the bed and allowed himself to feel that moment of tenderness. Jimin wasn’t sure how long they lay there, and he didn’t know what it meant—what Jin wanted from him. It was stupid to hope, but as he knelt there, waiting for Jin to come back and finally take his place, he couldn’t help but smile.

Just then, the doors groaned and swung open slowly, and in front of him was Jin, face unreadable as he looked down at the gathered nobles, on their knees for him. Behind him stood the high priestess, an old woman with long grey hair, let loose and long bright orange silks drowning her small body. Her eyes were severely narrow and Jimin wondered if she could actually see. There was something eerie about her—small but powerful.

Jimin didn’t see, but her eyes remained trained on him, as if she knew something about him. She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air before shouting for the entire hall to hear.

“The gods have favoured our land once again and have seen it fit to name Yeosu’s new king.” She breathed, still looking closely at Jimin as she spoke her next works. “Your duty is to serve him well and ensure Yeosu’s everlasting reign.”

As she finished those words, two announcers who now stood at the end of the room signalled to guards outside who rang the loud gong in the centre of the courtyard.

In the same moment, servants burnt incense sending a cloud of smoke through the courtyard and the room.

“Hail the King of Yeosu!” The high priestess declared, voice strong despite her frail appearance.

“Hail the King of Yeosu! May he reign forever! Hail the King!” The room declared, falling into a full bow, foreheads touching the ground in submission.

With that, the high priestess bowed slightly before the new king. In return, Jin bowed back and she disappeared back into the shadows, only to be recalled once an heir was born—or Seokjin’s death. Whichever came first.

Jimin lifted his head as the room shifted to finally stand after an hour of kneeling. He looked at Jin who was looking at him too. Around them, the room murmured about their old bones, how they needed to piss and then drink to their heats’ content later on.

Jimin kept kneeling, looking up at Seokjin with challenging eyes. Challenging to tell him what exactly he wanted.

Finally, Jin was king and finally he had everything he wanted. He had the room to make some much needed changes in Yeosu, to make all his dreams for a better kingdom come true. Jin had already shared all his plans with Jimin that morning and whilst it scared Jimin, he trusted Jin to survive it. To survive the council and the inevitable backlash.

He trusted Jin.

After a moment, Jin walked up to him, adorned in his deep scarlet robes and a traditional headdress on. He looked graceful in the late afternoon sun and when he smiled warmly, Jimin tried to hide his blush, casting his eyes to the floor.

“Exalted,” Jimin breathed.

And in the next moment, the world seemed to go still as Jin got to his knees, the room around them melted away despite Jimin being acutely aware everyone in the room was staring. Jin’s hand went to hold his chin gently, lifting his head to make Jimin look into his eyes.

Jimin shut his eyes and breathed. “Exalted—”

“You never have to bow to me ever again, Jimin. You never have to bow to anyone.”

Without even noticing, Jimin’s eyes had filled with tears. They stung as questions rushed through him. “Hyung…” his voice cracked and the silence in the room was thick with tension as everyone looked on at the new king of Yeosu kneeling before a servant.

“You do not bow to anyone, Jimin-ah.”

Finally, Jimin opened his eyes and saw Jin looking at him with tender eyes.

King of Yeosu; Kim Seokjin. Jin. The man he had so desperately fallen in love with a month into his life in the palace. Jimin nodded, biting his bottom lip until it began to bleed.

Somewhere in the room, Taehyung grinned as did Namjoon—but not for the same reasons.

                                                                                                            ***

The celebrations in the city had picked up as the night had progressed. Yeosu had bowed to its new king and declared its undying loyalty. All the distinguished guests renewed their vows to the Kim family, trusting that Seokjin was just like his father, if not better.

As Yoongi sat at the royal table, he thought of the rumours that flew about in hushed tones as women and men danced in the streets and servants drank just as lavishly as nobles did. The King of Yeosu had knelt for his servant. No one knew what it meant, but according to the council who had bore witness, it was surprising.

 Yet Yoongi figured it wasn’t really. From the moment he had arrived in Yeosu, he could tell there was something unspoken between Jimin and Jin. A quiet but fierce loyalty. And after the previous afternoon, when Jin had stopped Hyunwoo from touching Jimin, Yoongi knew the elder cared for his servant. Which in a court like this, was almost sacrilegious, especially in a time like this,  hen everyone would be expecting a wife for Seokjin.

The night air was warm as the music played, everything somehow alive, from the trees outside to the palace itself as the candles danced around, casting a glow through the room where all the nobles sat, away from the debauchery going on in the city.

“Your grace,” a woman’s voice came. Yoongi recognised her as the daughter of the governess of Gurye. She was pretty, in an offensive way and she sat confidently on the table surrounded by men. “You aren’t drinking,” she continued with a small smile, eyes sparkling.

Yoongi bowed his head slightly and lifted his cup of wine before taking a tentative sip. He couldn’t get drunk, not when there was Jeonju to worry about. He moved his eyes to Jin, who was flanked by his brothers and near them, the regent. By now, the regent was too drunk, going on and on about Yeosu’s might as other nobles laughed. Yoongi’s eyes rested on Taehyung’s, who sat in his seat, observing the scene carefully, a finger casually rested on his blush pink lips. He followed where the younger’s eyes were and they were focused on the governor of Jeonju, who was laughing with other nobles and on his fifth cup of wine. His wife, however, was nowhere to be seen.

A moment later, the governor began to cough loudly. No one at the table seemed to notice at first until the coughing got louder. Next to him, someone shrieked as he hunched over, clutching his chest as he heaved and coughed.

“Governor!” The woman next to him cried. “Are you alright?”

The man only coughed louder, face going red as he heaved once more. Around the table, eyes were wide in surprise, no one moving as the man fell to the floor. There were loud gasps around as people stood from their seats, cups being knocked over as everyone gasped in surprise as more people gathered around the governor. The man continued to cough and now Yoongi could see the splatters of blood coming out of his mouth until they were no longer splatters but full puddles.

“You idiots! Get some help!” The regent cried to no one in particular, and in a flash, servants and guards were around the governor, helping him up as the people around looked on in shock. Blood still dribbled out of the man’s mouth as his eyes rolled back.

Something about the whole scene didn’t surprise Yoongi. He turned his eyes to Jin and saw the look of indifference in the king’s eyes.

Next to him, Hoseok whispered, “You think he did it?” Asking about Jin.

Yoongi had no shadow of a doubt that this was all Jin’s doing, and when he looked at Jin, Taehyung, Jimin and Namjoon, looking on at the scene with casual and unaffected faces, his heart skipped a beat. Taehyung turned to him and smiled at him, loud voices causing commotion as the governor lay on the floor, mouth spouting blood, eyes rolling back and guards carrying him away.

Yoongi looked around at the gathered nobles, could hear the celebrations taking place down in the city, unaware of the commotion in the palace.

“Should we follow?” Jeongguk asked as the governor disappeared down the doors in the arms of guards and his servants following behind. Still, Ahn Hye-Jin was nowhere to be seen.

“You go ahead,” Yoongi said, eyes set on Taehyung who hadn’t averted his gaze.

Jeongguk followed Yoongi’s eyes and nodded. “Be careful, hyung.”

With that, Jeongguk moved away from the table, followed by Hoseok. In the same breath, Jin stood from where he sat and the group fell silent. He smiled at everyone, somehow managing to meet everyone’s eyes.

“I think the governor has taken ill. However, I will make sure our best physician ensures that he makes a speedy recovery so he can return to Jeonju safely.” He paused. “Please continue to enjoy the celebrations. We still have a lot of wine that needs to be drunk—”

“And prostitutes to be fucked!” Someone shouted in the crowd, earning a loud cheer from the men in the room.

Jin wrinkled his nose at the voice. “Please continue to enjoy your evenings.” He bowed before the crowd and everyone bowed in return, turning back to their conversations and debauchery, as if nothing had happened.

For a while, Yoongi was distracted by the daughter of the governess, Da-Hye. He listened to her talk about education for the girls in Yeosu and Yoongi found himself agreeing. A few years ago, his mother had passed a law that all the girls in the northern kingdom had to be tutored just as the boys were. There had been some resistance but ultimately, the defiance had died down until it was normal that daughters also attend lessons with their bothers.

“I would propose it to the king, but I have no access to him and my mother believes it’s nonsense,” Da-Hye went on.

She glanced at the royals tentatively. “I thought perhaps I could propose it before my family takes its leave tomorrow evening.” She paused, looking at Yoongi carefully, eyes sparking. “You seem close to the king and his brothers. Perhaps you could introduce us?”

Yoongi let out a chuckle. He had come here with the intention to kill Seokjin and now the palace believed they were friends. His mind travelled back to earlier that day, how Jin had offered him a place on the council in exchange for setting his troops along the border of Jeonju. Perhaps they weren’t friends, and Yoongi doubted they would ever be, but for now—they were allies.

“Of course, Da-Hye-ssi.”

Just as Da-Hye thanked him, Yoongi noticed Jin stand and bow before a few people, and whisper something to his brothers. Jimin too stood and when Jin was done excusing himself, they walked out of the hall, side by side, not Jimin trailing behind. Yoongi was not the only one staring, the regent looked on, eyes hard and jaw clenched.

The king of Yeosu had just made a statement. Jimin was not a servant, but something more and it was up to everyone else to imagine exactly what that something meant.

Yoongi too got up to look for Jeongguk and Hoseok. They had followed the governor, hoping to catch anything about his status. If they governor died tonight, then Jeonju’s plans would be destroyed or at least delayed, giving Jin enough time to mobilise troops near the borders.

Yet Yoongi knew if it got out that the governor had been poisoned, Ahn Hye-Jin would suspect him first. He knew about their plans to create chaos in Yeosu. It put him in more danger than he anticipated and he knew he couldn’t trust Jin to protect him—not when the he was capable of such a thing during his own coronation.

Yoongi quickly excused himself from the festivities and made his way out of the doors, into the candlelit hallway which was littered with a few drunk men and women, whispering in corners. Keeping his head down, he made his way to Jeongguk’s room, but as he made his way down the twisted halls of the palace, he heard footsteps behind him. They were soft and for a moment, he considered not turning around to see who it was, but that was dumb. Whoever it was couldn’t have been much of a threat if they were hiding in the shadows.

Finally, Yoongi stopped and turned, yet it was not some threat shroud in darkness. Instead, it was Taehyung, still in his ceremonial robes, dark hair slightly messy and begrudgingly, Yoongi admitted—beautiful.

“Hyung,” Taehyung bowed with that knowing smile of his, as if he could hear exactly what Yoongi was thinking.

Yoongi seemed to lose his words for a moment, as he looked at Taehyung, silhouette lit by the candles around them, the gold seeping into his eyes.

“Taehyung,” Yoongi finally managed. “How can I help you?”

Taehyung shrugged, stepping closer. “Just wanted someone to talk to.”

That made Yoongi narrow his eyes. Somewhere further down the hallway, a servant passed along as the sounds from the celebrations could be heard somewhere in the distance.

“About what?” Yoongi asked carefully. Now that Taehyung was closer, he had to look up a little and it was disconcerting. He took a careful step back.

Another single shoulder shrug. “Come with me to see Mei,” he said quietly. “She liked you.”

Yoongi was confused. Taehyung and him were not friends, if anything he found the younger slightly strange in the way that he had a way of looking at people, like he already knew everything about them and was trying to figure out how best he could use it to his advantage.

Without waiting for a reply, Taehyung turned on his heel and began to walk away. Yoongi told himself to leave and go find Jeongguk and Hoseok, but his feet began to move in Taehyung’s direction and follow, drawn in by some nameless force.

He wasn’t sure why or how he had ended up in the evening air, walking further away from the main palace, down the grounds in the starry summer evening. They walked in silence and Yoongi had so many questions but somehow couldn’t find the voice to ask. Really Taehyung could murder him out here and no one would ever know.

“You’re very quiet, hyung. I can never read you,” Taehyung said quietly, staring straight ahead, a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Why would you want to read me?” Yoongi asked.

Somewhere in the distance was a loud shriek of enjoyment and then laughter.

“I don’t know, hyung.” Taehyung glanced at him for a second and Yoongi could see Taehyung in the moon drenched evening. Taehyung in all his beauty. “You just look like someone I could trust. I like being able to read people I trust.”

Yoongi’s head was spinning. Taehyung’s words were sincere but from what Yoongi had seen, they might as well have been hollow. Nothing was sincere in Yeosu and Yoongi worried Taehyung was working some kind of angle.

“I came here to kill your brother,” Yoongi said suddenly. He wanted to see Taehyung’s reaction, to see if the younger would be surprised.

A second passed and Yoongi spotted sheds in the near distance and the distinct sound of a horse’s neigh.

“What changed your mind?” Taehyung finally asked.

They kept walking as Yoongi thought about it. It was an amalgamation of factors.

Jeonju.

The possibility of the return of the southern border.

Jin’s potential.

Jeongguk and Hoseok’s safety.

His mother.

In reality, it had never been a good idea anyway.

“I have a home to return to,” Yoongi said quietly. “A family. Being around yours has made me appreciate mine a lot more.”

That earned him a laugh from Taehyung.

“I don’t fault you for wanting my brother dead, hyung. Our families—mine especially have wronged each other.”

They had arrived at what seemed like abandoned stables. “I’m sorry about that, hyung.”

Taehyung’s voice sounded sincere and Yoongi didn’t look at him, couldn’t really understand the lump forming in his throat as he blinked.

The first apology.

The only apology.

They walked into the stable and by the door was Mei, grazing on a stack of hay. She stopped when she saw Taehyung and he slowly backed out into the night once again as she followed him before going over to try and nuzzle him when she was significantly bigger. Yoongi found himself smiling.

“Thank you, Tae,” Yoongi whispered, lump still lodged in his throat, not even realising what he had just called Taehyung.

“Hm,” Taehyung hummed. “Tae,” he said, testing the name out. “I like it when you say it.” He turned to Yoongi and smiled warmly. “You know you can touch her. She won’t kick you just because it’s dark this time.”

Yoongi stared at the massive horse and her black fur that shone in the moonlight, before gingerly taking a step forward and rubbing his hand on her soft fur. She let out a quiet gruff of approval, liking all the attention.

“You can trust me,” Taehyung said quietly after a moment.

“I think that would be a mistake on my part.”

“Ask me anything you want to know.”

“What?” Yoongi asked, not sure he had heard correctly.

“Ask me anything. I’ll answer honestly.” Taehyung turned to him, eyes piercing, challenging Yoongi.

Fuck it, Yoongi thought.

“Did Jin-hyung poison the governor of Jeonju?” It was out of his mouth as soon as he thought of it.

From this angle, he couldn’t really see Taehyung’s face when he answered, “No.”  The younger was quiet for another second before sighing and stepping away from Mei. “I did.”

Yoongi laughed. He should have known. “And I should trust you?”

“Come here, hyung,” Taehyung said, making Yoongi arch an eyebrow and cross his arms across his chest defiantly. He definitely was not going to take orders from Taehyung. Realising Yoongi was not going to budge, Taehyung took a step forward, then another until he was almost chest to chest with Yoongi, breathing deeply. A wave of déjà vu hit Yoongi, remembering their little knife fight by the pond. He ran his tongue against his lower lip and Yoongi’s heart involuntarily slammed against his chest in response.

“I’d do anything to protect, Jin-hyung just as I know he would for me. And as I told you earlier, keeping him alive keeps me alive too.”

“What does that mean, Taehyung?”

The younger smiled sadly. “It just means I need as many people in our corner as I can possibly get. Jeonju is just the first obstacle to face. There is so much more to come.”

“My family and I are leaving the day after tomorrow, Taehyung. I’m not sure I can help you with whatever this is.” Yoongi looked around, anything to keep himself from looking into Taehyung’s eyes.

In an unexpected move, Taehyung grabbed his hand, interlocking their fingers, making Yoongi look at him in shock.

“I’m so, so sorry about what happened to your family, hyung. I’m sorry about what they did to your father. Please let hyung and I make it right.”

Yoongi couldn’t really hear him, he was too focused on their hands. His hand burned and his heart was spinning and tossing, butterflies suddenly birthing themselves in their thousands in his stomach.

Taehyung.

Taehyung.

Then it hit him. “Wait, how did you know about my father?”

Taehyung’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? My brothers and I were there when our father planned it.” He paused, looking down. “I’m sorry—”

“Was anyone else there besides your family? Anyone from the council?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, just the army general, the regent and a few soldiers.”

That was odd. Ahn-Hye Jin’s words suddenly rang in Yoongi’s head.

Remember what the Kim family has done to your family. What they did to your father.

She wasn’t supposed to know Yeosu was behind the attack. No one else knew save for his mother, his uncle and Jeongguk and Hoseok. Everyone else had been informed it was a hunting incident. That was the news that had been spread. How had Hye-Jin known?

“Hyung,” Taehyung said, bringing Yoongi back, clutching his hand tightly. “You okay?”

They were still holding hands, Yoongi realised before taking a step back and pulling away. “Tae, Jeonju isn’t working alone. The governor and his wife are just the face. Someone else is pulling the strings.”

Chapter Text

Taehyung tilted his head to the side in question, looking at Yoongi curiously. “Who do you think it is?” he asked.

Yoongi couldn’t really guess. All he knew was that Ahn Hye-Jin had no way of knowing what happened that day unless someone in that room had told her and her husband. For all Yoongi knew, it could have been Taehyung behind all this madness.

He looked at the younger with narrowed eyes, not sure whether he should trust him. Taehyung had just poisoned the governor and he looked unmoved by the whole ordeal. He wasn’t even sure whether the younger had intended on killing the man. Yet, the idea that Taehyung was capable of something like that sent a chill up Yoongi’s spine.

“I don’t know. It could be anyone,” Yoongi said. “Whoever was in that room. They could have told someone.”

Next to them, Mei let out a huff, clearly needing a bit more attention from Taehyung. Obliging, Taehyung placed a hand on the side of the horse.

 “I doubt Jin-hyung or Namjoonie-hyung had anything to gain from that information,” Taehyung said. “My uncle however…” he trailed. “Kim Yoo Chun has always had a thing for power.”

Yoongi was still sceptical. Sure Kim Yoo Chun seemed like an absolute piece of work but what did he really stand to gain. “Why would he want to harm Jin-hyung? He already has power, he nobles’ support. Everything.”

Taehyung was quiet for a second, thinking about it seriously. “We always want a little more power than we already have, hyung.”

“Doesn’t that apply to you too?” Yoongi questioned.  

Taehyung smiled. “If it applies to me then it applies to you too, no?” They looked at each for a long moment, Mei breathing heavily as Yoongi’s heart did something funny. He didn’t know why he couldn’t think straight around Taehyung. Why being around the younger man was so disconcerting. What the butterflies meant. “Should we head back?”

Yoongi looked up at the palace in the distance, lit by a golden glow, the sounds of celebration still in the air. He needed to find Hoseok and Jeongguk, find out more about the governor, but when he looked back at Taehyung and nodded, he realised he was too fascinated and desperate to know more about the beautiful prince.

Dangerously so.

In the minutes they had been gone, the party in the palace had kicked up a notch. There was dancing, the music loud, the wine spilling from every end of the room. Yoongi looked around, Da-Hye was speaking to her mother and Yoongi had to remind himself to speak to Jin in the morning. Before he could tear his eyes away from her, he heard someone clear their throat and before both him and Taehyung was the regent, Yoo Chun. The man who could have told Jeonju about Yoongi’s father. Yoongi suddenly felt uncomfortable.

“Uncle,” Taehyung breathed with wide eyes.

The regent looked unbalanced, hair a mess and pupils dilated from opium or whatever else he had been inhaling. He bowed his head politely. “Where is your brother?” The man asked.

Taehyung smiled oddly. “I’m afraid you have to be more specific, uncle.”

Yoo Chun rolled his eyes subtly. “Seokjin.”

Taehyung let out a quiet breath and shrugged. “Perhaps he’s checking on the governor? It’s unfortunate he fell ill on such a great occasion, don’t you think?”

Yoo Chun seemed suspicious, eyeing Taehyung’s placid face carefully, like he knew the younger was somehow involved in whatever mess had just taken place. He leaned in towards the younger. “Were you responsible for this?” he hissed.

Taehyung’s eyes flew wide open, looking just the right amount of scandalised that it would have been funny if Yoongi didn’t feel so uncomfortable.  

“Uncle, please,” he breathed. “Why would you accuse me of such a thing?”

Yoo Chun opened his mouth to retort but the words didn’t come out until he sighed and shot Yoongi a level look. “Be vigilant, your grace. Our little prince tends to be as cunning as he is beautiful.”

With that, the regent bowed quickly and made his way out of the doors to check on the governor perhaps. Yoongi looked at Taehyung, who was smiling down at him charmingly, like a child caught doing something bad.

In the background, music from string instruments played delicately. People swayed along, enjoying themselves, completely unaware of the chaos that surrounded the palace and Yeosu. Yoongi knew he had to find Hoseok and Jeongguk. Things were already out of hand and looking at Taehyung, no matter how much he was drawn to the danger, he knew he needed to take heed of the regent’s advice.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if we danced?” Taehyung asked suddenly, looking at a few people swaying along in the room. Nothing crazy, but women and men alike were moving along to the hypnotic beats that were being created by the drums.

“No it wouldn’t,” Yoongi deadpanned.

Taehyung stuck out his bottom lip in a slight pout and Yoongi couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not, but even the pout was doing something to him.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” Taehyung murmured, grabbing Yoongi’s hand once again, sending a shiver up his spine.

Yoongi sighed loudly. “I’m not here to entertain your whims.” He really was trying his best to resist, but his stomach was doing that thing with the butterflies again and he couldn’t really see anything else but Taehyung’s pretty lips and that mole on his nose.

Taehyung laughed, eyes sparkling in the dim lighting of the room. “It’s not a whim, hyung.” He twined his fingers through Yoongi’s, only making Yoongi’s stomach condition ten times worse. “I want to dance with you.”

The music had gone quieter, slower and hypnotic. The strange mixture of of opium, tobacco and jasmine floating in the air. It felt like a dream, like a dream where nothing was quite clear, all haze and uncertainty but somehow intoxicating.

“I don’t think this is the kind of place we dance, Taehyung.” Yoongi was surprised his voice sounded so sure.

Taehyung was quiet for a moment, losing his smile, looking at Yoongi carefully. “What will it take for you to trust me?” he breathed, still in Yoongi’s space, still holding his hand and everything was spinning all at once. Yoongi knew he should let go but he stayed right where he was, under whatever spell the palace of Yeosu had cast on him.

He was hot all over and Taehyung was looking at him with those calculating eyes. What could Taehyung do to make Yoongi trust him?

Yoongi had no clue. Doubted he even wanted to trust Taehyung. There was just something off about the younger. Something that told Yoongi to be careful, just as the regent had warned him a moment ago. It was a shame, Yoongi thought, he liked Taehyung. He liked the way he didn’t show all of his cards, liked the glint mischief in his eyes. In a way, he reminded him of Jin when they were younger, how Yoongi had been utterly enamoured by the crown prince and all his confidence.

“You don’t have to do anything, Tae,” Yoongi breathed. “It’s just this palace. I can’t let my guard down.”

Taehyung smiled—grinned, revealing perfect teeth before he leaned in, lips dancing shy of Yoongi’s neck. Goosebumps formed on Yoongi’s arms as the hairs on the back of his neck stood. “You keep calling me ‘Tae’. Maybe your guard isn’t as high up as you think it is.”

Yoongi took a careful step back, pulling his hand away, trying his best to look unaffected but he already knew his pale skin was making his flush obvious. “Taehyung is a very long name. Tae is simply easier.” 

The younger’s mouth quirked to the side in a half smile, clearly amused by Yoongi’s answer or maybe the fact that Yoongi had felt uncomfortable enough to move back. “Hmm,” he breathed. “If you say so.”

“I should go find Hoseok and Jeongguk,” Yoongi announced, wanting to break whatever bubble he was stuck in, but the younger’s eyes held him place as he tilted his head slightly. “I’ll find out who told Jeonju about your father.”

“How will you do that?” Yoongi hated the fact that all he could do was react to Taehyung. He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but it felt as if the younger had him in place and had wiped away all sensible thoughts inside him. All that was left was his ability to react. React to Taehyung. Yoongi hated it.

“I have my ways,” Taehyung said coyly.

“Try not to kill anyone.”

Taehyung smirked and really that should have worried Yoongi a bit more, but all it did was flip his stomach again. He really was fucked.

“The governor won’t die, but it’ll definitely delay his plans,” Taehyung said casually.

“Unless he’s not the one behind all of this.”

 Yoongi needed to go.

Taehyung seemed to register Yoongi’s discomfort, looking apologetic, if not disappointed as he nodded slowly. The smile on his face slipped away, like a puppy that had been kicked away. Yoongi didn’t know what to make of it.

 “Have a good night, your grace.” Yoongi bowed his head respectfully.

He had almost managed to move past the younger until he felt a hand clutch his wrist. It burnt just like before, but just like before, Yoongi did not pull away because he was an idiot. “You can trust me, hyung,” he paused, “I mean it.”

With that, he let go of Yoongi’s wrist and bowed his head. “Your grace.”

And with those parting words, Yoongi escaped, walking quickly to find Hoseok and Jeongguk, but his heart was doing something funny and Taehyung’s smirk had decided to assault his mind.

Servants trailed Jimin as he entered Jin’s chambers. He felt nervous for some reason, unable to process the day’s events and hoping Jin offered some sort of clarity soon. Behind him, the servants busied themselves with lighting candles and replacing the pretty silver censers with new ones.

The bath was already filled, smelling sweet with rose oil and petals. Somewhere in the distance, Jimin could still hear the celebrations but he wasn’t really focusing on that—his eyes were trained on Jin who was looking back at him. A smile decorated the new king of Yeosu’s face and Jimin felt himself falling all over again. Felt the rush of euphoria and desire coursing through him. It wasn’t wrong to want Jin like that. Not after today. Not after they had lay on the bed earlier in the morning, fingers intertwined. Not after Jin had knelt before him in front of all those nobles.

No, it wasn’t wrong.

But what did it all mean?

“You should take your bath, Exalted.”

Jin took a step towards Jimin, still dressed in his ceremonial scarlet robes, looking severe and ethereal all at the same time. Jimin wanted... And it wasn’t wrong to want. Was it?

Behind Jimin, someone cleared their throat and he turned to find a servant with their head bowed.

 “Excuse me, Exalted. Should I attend to you?”

Jimin turned to Jin then back to the servant. “Don’t worry, Jaehyun-ssi.” Jimin smiled warmly. “Please go and enjoy the rest of the celebrations with your families. All of you.” He looked at the other servants who bowed lowly in thanks.

“Thank you.” Jaehyun looked directly at Jin. “And thank you, Exalted. My family is so pleased and we all know you will be a great king. We are loyal to you, Exalted. Congratulations.” He bowed lowly once again and along with the other servants, backed out of the room, shutting the door quietly.

Jimin turned back to Jin when they were finally alone and they stood there quietly for a minute, assessing each other as Jimin’s blood rushed through him.

Finally, he straightened himself up, “May I?” He touched Jin’s stiff collar gently, just below the exposed skin of his jaw.

Jin smiled, but there was something behind it that Jimin couldn’t figure out. “Of course.”

Jimin had undressed Seokjin many times. Knew how the complicated ceremonial robes worked, every string that needed to be untied and every button to undo when, but today, tonight, his hands shook slightly. He didn’t know why he felt nervous and so horribly not in control. He pushed his worries away for a moment and focused on the task, breathing lowly as his skin brushed Jin’s, sending jolts of electricity through him at the slightest hint of contact.

Finally, he was down to just the simple white robe and when he faced Jin, eyes glinting in the glow of dancing candles, hands moving to shoulders, Jin’s lips parted as he took in a sharp breath. Jimin slipped off the final layer, revealing Seokjin’s perfectly bare torso, taut from all the sword training.

Jimin wanted to say something, to lessen the building tension but he couldn’t come up with the words. They gazed at each other for what could have been an eternity or a second.

Jimin glanced at the tub. “You should get into the bath before it gets cold, Exalted.”

They had to talk. Jimin knew that, but he was scared. Scared that whatever was happening between them was some sort of sick joke—that somehow the damned palace had come alive and decided to play a trick on him.

“I should,” Jin agreed with a tiny smile.

Jimin breathed, hugging his shoulders. “I’ll go check on the governor,” he said slowly. He didn’t think he could watch Jin take a bath. Not today anyway. Everything felt hot and he needed to leave the room before he did something that would definitely get him kicked out of the palace.

He began to bow but Jin held his chin to stop him, arching his own challenging eyebrow with a smirk. “What did I say?”

Jimin’s mouth was dry suddenly, forced to looking into Jin’s dark eyes. He was sinking into them, completely overwhelmed and he hated the feeling. Hated the feeling of not being control, of being so vulnerable. He had to remind himself that Jin was safe.

Jin wouldn’t hurt him.

That was comforting at least.

He fell back to hours earlier, when Jin had resurfaced with the high priestess and in the moment the nobles and royals bowed before him, he had gotten on his knees for Jimin. It was scandalous and Jimin already knew the palace was talking. How could a king bow to his whore? Jimin wanted to believe it meant something for them, but this was Jin, so impenetrable even with that easy smile.

“I don’t bow,” Jimin finally replied.

“Precisely.”

That made him want to scream, question what Jin wanted exactly. This careful dance was doing nothing for him and Jimin was tired. So, so tired.

Jin turned to the bath and Jimin tried very hard not to look at his bare body. The wide expanse of smooth shoulders, his back with a few moles that Jimin desperately wanted to kiss.

Yes, Jimin needed to leave. Needed to go to the governor and make sure fucking Taehyung hadn’t murdered one of the most powerful men in the kingdom.

“Why?” Jimin blurted as Jin sank into the bath. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t walking out, but he needed to know before he lost his mind. He was halfway there and the feeling was disconcerting.

“Why what?” Jin asked, a hand falling over the rim of the bath. Jimin watched as a few drops fell to the floor.

“I’m a servant. Your servant—” Jimin stopped. “Not bowing to your uncle for example, will get me thrown into a dungeon.” He sighed. “I’m a servant.”

It sounded like a mantra at this point. He had to say it to himself so often to remind himself not to beg Jin to touch him. He was a servant and no way in hell would the palace allow such a thing. Yes men fucked men to avoid—accidents but anything more was looked down upon. Love between two men and one a king the other a servant? Impossible.

Jin looked unmoved and Jimin almost felt like crying. When had he lost control over his emotions so badly? Nothing touched Jin and the knowledge ruined Jimin. Jin could play with him all he wanted and Jimin would take it, willing to take whatever he could get.

“Jimin-ah?” Jin said gently, eyes soft when they landed on the younger. “Come here?”

 Jimin hated this. Almost hated Jin too. Hated how soft his voice sounded, how tenderly he was looking at him. It was just another stupid game, Jimin told himself as he found his feet moving closer to the tub, the scent of rose oil floating in the air.

He tentatively sat on the edge like he always did when they were younger. When things were still innocent. When Jimin wasn’t trying very hard not stare at the contours of Jin’s body.

They sat there for a while, not saying anything and the quiet was almost nice. Jimin so desperately wanted to touch Jin but it wasn’t his place.

After the long moment of quiet, Jin sighed, “I don’t want you to be my servant anymore...”

Jimin flinched, it felt like a slap and he didn’t know why. What did this mean? Did he have to leave? All sorts of scenarios played in his mind at light speed as his body stiffened.

Jin laughed quietly, noticing. “Calm down, Jiminie.” He breathed, moving around to face Jimin, the water sloshing around him. “I just think you’d serve better on the council.”

Jimin’s voice was terse when he finally managed to speak. “Jin.”

Jin arched his eyebrow with a little smirk, clearly enjoying Jimin looking less than amused and calling him by his name. “Hmm?”

“I’m a servant.”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh my God,” Jimin breathed, burying his face his hands. “No. No. The palace—the council, everyone will be against it, hyung. No.”

Why was Jin so irresponsible? He was clever but so fucking chaotic and Jimin didn’t know how to handle it. Jin was already overhauling the council. They would be unhappy—yes but they would be appeased with land and gold, but a servant on the council? That was unheard of and no one was going to like it.

“The point is Jimin-ah, you aren’t a servant anymore so really no one should have a problem with it.”

“They’ll think you’re doing this because you’re fucking me. Kings fall because of their whores.”

Suddenly, Jin grabbed his chin, making him down at him, water painting his face. “I don’t like that word. I’d prefer if you don’t call yourself that.” He dropped his hand back into the water. “Anyway, we aren’t ‘fucking’ as you put it so gracefully, therefore the palace would be wrong.”

Jimin bit the corner of his bottom lip hard, almost drawing blood but he had to stop himself from screaming at Jin, to tell him that he knew better than this. That this wasn’t how Yeosu politics worked. Jin couldn’t charm his way through this and Jimin wanted to shake him, almost forgetting that Jin was naked in tub full of warm water with flower petals.

After a moments, Jin stood and stepped out of the bath, forcing Jimin to look at him in all his glory. He grabbed a silk robe and smiled at Jimin as he covered himself, hair slightly wet and body still dripping. Jimin flinched at the water dripping everywhere. Jaehyun would not be pleased about that.  

“You’re smart, Jimin. You know me better than my own brothers do. I trust you. Why wouldn’t I want you on my council?” Jin asked. His voice had lost of its humour and he was looking at Jimin who was still seated on the edge of the bathtub with a tense expression on his face.

“Because—” Jimin’s voice cracked.

He was just a servant and he had done horrible things. Had allowed people to do horrible things to him for the sake of Jin. He didn’t deserve Jin. Didn’t deserve to sit on his council. Did not deserve to be treated like an equal. He stood from the bath and walked towards Jin. He felt tired, just wanted to feel warm. “I don’t know how to be anything other than a servant.”

Jin lift his hand to touch Jimin but dropped it, as if realising something, making Jimin feel cold.

“Of course you do. You’ve never been much of a servant, Jimin-ah. You and I both know that. Even my family knows that. You’re my best friend.”

Jimin lifted his eyes to look at Jin, eyes filling with tears that threatened to fall. Jin was smiling so warmly, his voice so gentle and Jimin wanted…

But being Jin’s best friend had to be enough. Asking for anything more was too much.

A tear escaped before he could stop it. It hurt. He didn’t want to be selfish but it hurt and Jin was looking at him like that and it hurt.

“All you have to do is be my best friend now,” Jin continued and the tears kept falling. Jimin couldn’t stop it.

 “No, why are you crying? Did I say something?” Jin took a tentative step forward. Jimin looked at Jin through the blur of tears. It was more what he hadn’t said. What he hadn’t done.

Well, he thought, nothing else to lose now.

“You don’t get it, hyung.”

Jin seemed confused. “What don’t I get? God, please stop crying. It’s stressing me. I don’t like stress, it’s bad for my health.”

“It’s bad for everyone’s health, smartass.” Even in times like this, Jin was still funny and they could still make jokes. Jimin let out a single laugh. He still hated it. Hated the vulnerability, but he was already crying, what was a little more?

“You never touch me,” Jimin breathed, unsteady as he gazed up at Jin carefully, wincing at how weak he sounded. How desperate.

The incense floated through the air. A breeze made its way into the room. The jade soap holders and the luxurious oils glinted in the light. Everything magical and perfect for a perfect king. But like this, in a loose robe, Jin was just Jin and Jimin was so hopelessly in love. And Jin didn’t even know.

He watched Jin’s features twist into confusion then just as quickly, eyes dissolve into puddles of warmth, a smile tugging at his lips. “Ah,” he breathed with a quiet laugh. “Oh Jimin, I can’t. Remember?”

Jimin was confused. What did he mean he couldn’t?

“The first night we met? What did I promise you?”

Jimin travelled back to the day. How he had trembled on his knees, looking at the beautiful crown prince. He remembered thinking he could just close his eyes and it would be over. And then Jin had told him to get up.

Promised to never touch him.

Oh.

“You said you’d never touch me.”

Jin nodded, moving closer. “Your body has never belonged to me Jimin. Even when I wanted to touch you, I couldn’t.”

“Wanted?” Jimin asked tentatively, sniffling a little.

Jin smiled and now he was only an inch away, looking down at Jimin, foreheads almost touching.

“Want. Even when I want to touch you—I can’t.”

Jimin’s heart was going to escape his chest and make a break for it because this was too much. His head was spinning with questions. Jin wasn’t playing with him. He never let it get this far, not even when they were younger. He flirted; yes, but never got this close.

“Wh-what if I give you my permission?” His voice was barely  audible, edged with fear and uncertainty. But Jimin knew he wasn’t some quivering damsel in distress. He pulled himself together in an instant and lifted his chin confidently, looking straight into Seokjin’s eyes, the mischievous glint that ran in the family there somewhere. “I give you permission,” Jimin said, eyes challenging.

There was a strange breath of silence. Pregnant with questions unresolved and words unspoken. For a moment, Jimin thought Jin would step away and ask him to leave but whatever conflict existed within both of them was postponed to another day.

Jin’s hand went to Jimin’s waist and the younger let out a quiet breath. Jin’s hand was sure, safe and comforting as Jin moved his other hand to Jimin’s face, cupping his cheek and stroking it softly with his thumb. Jimin stared at the perfectly pink lips and bit his own, hard to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

“You’re so soft,” Jin breathed like he couldn’t believe it. Jimin’s hand went to Jin’s hair and he raked through it slowly, basking in the feeling of it. The feeling of touching.

“Hyung,” Jimin breathed and the word alone was full of questions.

“It’s okay, Jimin-ah.” Jin squeezed Jimin’s hip bone making the younger gasp and that was it, Jin kissed him, capturing his mouth before he could get the full gasp out. It was slow at first. Jimin couldn’t believe how soft Jin’s lips were. He had always imagined but he hadn’t realised just how soft they would be. Their lips moved together, teasing and feeling, not much tongue but the hint of it there. They took time to learn each other, learn how to move in tandem, standing in the centre of the room as Jin’s hand lightly squeezed Jimin’s hipbone.

It was slow.

Nice.

Jimin broke away first, flushed and breathless. Jin was flushed too, both from the warm water and the kissing. It felt like a dream as Jin smiled down at him. “Come,” Jin whispered, taking Jimin’s hand and leading him to the other side of the vast room, where the bed was. Jimin looked at it for a second, wondering what happened next. He wanted to keep kissing… he wanted more.

“Nothing has to happen,” Jin said slowly, looking at Jimin carefully.

Jimin smiled and shook his head. “That’s not what I was thinking about.” The problem was Jimin wanted more.

He felt Jin move closer to him and when he spun back around to face him, Jin’s thumb traced his bottom lip slowly, like he was trying memorise every inch.

“Hyung,” Jimin breathed

“We have lots to talk about, Jimin-ah,” Jin said, moving a hand to the nape of Jimin’s neck. He liked the feeling, liked feeling Jin’s solid body under the thin fabric of the robe. He wanted to feel more.

“We can talk tomorrow.” Now it was full on whine and Jimin didn’t even mind how needy he sounded. He had Seokjin and waiting seemed like a dangerous thing to do. Like he might wake up and everything would be snatched away from him.

He didn’t want to risk it.

Jimin nudged Jin to the bed softly. Jin regarded him, eyes running past his body slowly. “Come here,” Jin whispered and Jimin did just that, moving to stand between Jin’s thighs. He leaned down and pressed a slow kiss of Jin’s mouth, unable to believe that he could have this. Have this however he wanted it.

Jin’s hands moved to pull off Jimin’s clothing and in an instant he was stripped down, not the least bit self-conscious because he knew he looked good by the way Jin’s eyes glinted and ran past his collar bones and then his neck. “Are you just going to stare at me, hyung?”

Smiling dangerously, Jin acted quickly and Jimin was suddenly straddling him, lips on lips, hands touching everywhere they had so desperately desired to touch before. “Fuck,” Jin breathed into Jimin’s mouth and Jimin bit his lower lip before Jin moved to his neck, sucking and biting, marking him up. It was possessive but Jimin didn’t mind. Didn’t mind it when it was like this.

“Please, hyung,” Jimin cried as his finger teased Jin’s chest, moving to his nipples and Jin groaned into the crux of Jimin’s neck.

“You’re so pretty, Jimin. Have I ever told you that? You’re so pretty and it leaves me lightheaded,” he murmured.

Jimin tugged at Jin’s hair, pulling him up and making him look at him, vaguely aware that Jin was hard and so was he.

“Do you know how painful it has been for me, hyung?” he asked quietly.

Jin looked apologetic and Jimin didn’t like it so he kissed Jin again, lips soft and desperate.

“We can’t,” Jin finally said when Jimin grinded down on him, making both of them groan. The pressure was unbearable and yet not enough. Jin’s eyes were dark, mirroring all the terrible thoughts Jimin was having. “Fuck, I w-want—”

“So have it,” Jimin answered simply, grinding down again, feeling how Jin was, desperate for more friction, desperate to be touched by Jin.

“We need to talk first,” Jin murmured, breathless as he pulled away from Jimin and gave him a level look. Jimin knew what that look meant and he tried very hard not pout even if he knew Jin was right. It was just surprising that he wasn’t the one being responsible. He knew they had to talk.

For example; what the hell did this mean for them?

But he really was enjoying kissing with the possibility of more.

“Okay,” Jimin muttered, standing to grab the jade coloured robe to cover himself. He was still achingly hard and Jin was leaning back on his hands, looking at him as he put the robe around his body, eyes travelling on every inch of his skin. Jimin decided in that moment that he liked being watched by Seokjin.

Jin himself looked absolutely sinful, hair messy and falling into his eyes, lips plump and blood red from all the kissing and biting. Jin knew he was attractive and he knew looking like that affected men and women alike. Jimin was not immune.

“You’re so pretty,” Jin said. “So fucking pretty.”

Jimin walked to him and stood between his thighs, looking down at him. He had never been shy and when he got to his knees, Jin lifted a careful eyebrow in question—back to his unmoved expression.

Jimin answered his question by trailing his fingers up Jin’s thighs, stopping just short. Jin was still looking at him carefully. “You’re pretty too, hyung,” Jimin breathed as he pressed his lips onto the inside of Jin’s thigh. “I thought so from the moment I saw you and you were always so kind to me.” He breathed in the scent of roses.

“What are you doing?” Jin asked carefully.

Jimin smiled dangerously as he continued to kiss, coaxing a quiet sigh from Jin.

“What everyone thinks I already do.”

And with that, his hand moved to Jin’s length and he didn’t really waste time admiring how even that part of him was pretty, using his mouth to pull a groan from Jin, whose hand moved into Jimin’s hair and gripped. Jimin knew he was good with his mouth and this time he was glad he was using it for something he wanted. It added a new kind of enthusiasm as he pulled off slowly, looking up at Jin as his head fell back and his hand tightened in his hair. The pinch only edging him closer.

One day—if this wasn’t a dream—he would let Jin fuck his mouth.

“Jimin,” Jin breathed quietly, the sound helpless. Jimin moved down again, taking in his full length in slowly and leisurely. It was torturous for Jin as Jimin moved his tongue to the slit, keeping his eyes on Jin. “God, I want—”

“You said we have to talk, remember?” Jimin pulled off and beamed at Jin who tugged his hair rather unceremoniously in response. Jimin obliged, taking Jin in once again going faster now, tasting the wetness that had begun to spill. Jimin loved it. Loved having the choice to do this for Jin.

Loved Jin.

Jin didn’t really last long after that, already so worked up as he spilt in Jimin’s mouth with a quiet moan that sounded vaguely like Jimin’s name.

After a few moments of Jimin cleaning himself and covering Jin, he crawled back onto the bed and smiled at Jin who still looked a little dazed as he tried to return the favour.

Jimin who was already stuck in dizzying euphoria only smiled. “Tonight is all about you, Exalted. Congratulations on your coronation.”

Jin fell back, wrapping his arms around Jimin’s small body. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For everything.”

Jimin buried his face into Jin’s broad chest, the celebrations outside still going on. “We’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked quietly, sleep suddenly knocking.

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Jin breathed. They fell asleep like that, with a promise of a real conversation when the sun came up and as Jimin drifted, he couldn’t believe that he felt safe, that he finally had a choice.

The governor of Jeonju looked at Jimin carefully, like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. He lay in his chambers, surrounded by a host of servants and his wife standing near a far window as she pretended to look extremely worries.

His eyes were hollowed in and he definitely looked like someone who had coughed out blood the night before.

“I’m terribly sorry, governor. The physician tells me you fell ill because of a prior condition? He didn’t tell me what it was in an effort to maintain your privacy, of course,” Jin said, voice dripping in fake warmth.

The governor still seemed disorientated. He trained his eyes on Jimin, eyes filled with worry, realising what he had told Jimin that night and for such a low price too. Jimin smiled back.

“Ah, yes, Exalted. I must apologise for last night. I did not mean to interrupt the celebrations.” The governor’s voice was rough, like he had just come out of a deep sleep.

“I’m sure the king understands that you can’t control when you get ill,” the governess spoke up, eyes careful.

Jin nodded with a wide smile, undeterred by the woman’s somewhat rude tone. “Yes, no need to apologise,” Jin said cordially. “And to show my gratitude, I have organised your transportation back to Jeonju tonight. I imagine you would prefer to recover in the comfort of your home. Also, due to your health, I suppose you won’t be able to serve well on the council.” Jin sounded regretful and Jimin almost smiled again when he saw the governor’s eyes bulge.

“No!” The consort shouted, completely horrified. “My husband will recover. Expelling him from the council is—”

“I’d watch my tone, governess,” Jimin cut her off quickly.

Jin smiled graciously. “Please don’t worry Hye-Jin-ssi. Your husband will continue to be the governor but I wouldn’t want to put him under pressure. The physician stressed how important it was that he rest. I hope you understand.”

The governor opened his mouth again, sputtering as what Jin was saying registered. “Exalted, p-please. My health is fine!  I think perhaps I just had an episode last night,” he amended. “It’s fine. I’ve been on the council since your father was a young man just like you. I have years of experience. I—”

Jin placed a hand on the governor’s shoulder and squeezed, an understanding look on his face. “Yes, and you served my father well but perhaps it is time to rest.  We would not want to mourn so soon after my father’s passing.”

The governor didn’t even realise Taehyung had poisoned him. If it was a man who didn’t deserve it, Jimin would have felt some sympathy, but looking at the governor, knowing what he had done—Jimin only felt grateful to Taehyung.  

Hye-Jin’s face was flushed, her fists balled. “Exalted, your rule is new. We don’t know what threats await you. You need someone like my husband to-to advise you!”

Jin was still holding the man’s shoulder, completely ignoring Hye-Jin. “Don’t worry, governor. We will speak once you feel better.” He finally looked to Hye-Jin and bowed slightly, warm smile still on his face. “I wish you a safe journey home, governess. It has been a pleasure.”

Hye-Jin opened her mouth, as if she were about to retort then thought better of it before she bowed. “Thank you for your generosity, Exalted.”

Jimin watched her carefully, knowing full well this wasn’t over. They had delayed whatever plans Jeonju had, giving Jin’s soldiers enough time to line up along the Min family’s southern border just in case Jeonju decided to march. If anything, Jin had just poked the beehive and looking at Hye-Jin, he would soon feel the sting.

As they walked out into the wooden panelled hallway, servants darting around and guards in every other corner, Jimin felt Jin brush his fingers against his. He tried his best to supress the smile that crept up on his lips but couldn’t help it. Jin smiled back down at him and bumped his shoulder affectionately.

Things had noticeably changed this morning. Jimin was walking directly next to Seokjin which had raised eyebrows among the servants. Jaehyun had shot Jimin a look earlier that morning as they made their way to the governor but Jimin didn’t really have an answer for the man he had served next to.

Jin had woken up first and when Jimin finally squirmed against him, he had beamed down at the younger, morning light spilling in and turning his eyes into pools of honey. So it wasn’t a dream, Jimin had thought as he felt Jin’s finger trail down his check to his neck and finally down his arm, sending warmth through his body.

“Hi,” Jin whispered, pushing down the sheets, revealing Jimin and his bare legs.

For some strange reason, Jimin suddenly felt shy about how brazen he had decided to be last night, remembering having Jin in his mouth and wanting more. Wanting Jin to say his name the way he had the night before.

“Hi,” Jimin said back just as quietly then reached up to touch Jin’s messy hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “I’ve always thought you were so beautiful.”

Jin smiled. “You aren’t bad either.”

Playfully, Jimin shoved him lightly.

“From the moment I saw you, I thought you were pretty, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin’s breath caught, then he moved to sit up and look at Jin properly. “Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

Jin shrugged. “We were kids and you looked so brave even though you were terrified. It was wrong what they did to you and I didn’t want to be a part of it. I’m sorry you ended up here, Jimin-ah.”

Jimin bit his lip, something lodging up in throat. “It’s okay,” he said honestly. Despite Yeosu being less than perfect, he had Jin, and in a way he also had Taehyung and Namjoon. They had always treated him well. Nothing like a servant. “I meant what I said last night—you were always kind to me.”

Jin smiled but he still looked regretful, sitting up to meet Jimin’s eyes. “I also meant what I said last night. I don’t want you to be my servant anymore.”

“No, you want me on your council,” Jimin breathed, feeling cold suddenly.

“I want a lot more than that.” Jin was now sitting up, with a face Jimin recognised as the one he had when he was discussing something with nobles in the court.

A lot more than that? Jimin didn’t dare himself to dream. Yoo Chun’s threat sat at the back of his mind, its possibility conjuring up fear in the pit of Jimin’s stomach.

“Everyone expects an heir, hyung.” It was a classier way to put it.

“I just want you,” Jin said voice undeterred. “I finally have you and I just want you.”

The words struck Jimin in the deepest part of him. Warmth spread through him, the cold slipping away. He could barely stop the smile that crept up on his face until he remembered everything he had done before.

He remembered how angry Jin had been about the governor. He didn’t want to imagine what Jin would do if he knew about the regent, the men before him that had loosened their tongues just for Jimin. He wanted to tell Jin all of it, but something about the way he was looking at him, like he was the most beautiful thing on earth made Jimin keep quiet.

Better to stay in the moment. Jin didn’t have to know, not when Jimin finally had him.

“I want you too,” he said instead.

Jin smiled before leaning into Jimin. He hesitated a moment, questioning, but Jimin nodded quickly and felt the feather light touch. They matched each other well, Jimin’s hand moving into Jin’s hair as his tongue teased the entrance of his mouth. Jimin opened up willingly, deepening the kiss as Jin’s hand trailed up his thigh, swiftly moving Jimin onto his lap.

Jimin let out a quiet gasp, Jin’s falling onto his neck and biting, teasing as Jimin’s head fell back to give him more access.

They were like that for a while, until they fell back onto the bed, blissed out and smiling stupidly at each other. Once again, Jimin wondered if this was a dream.

“So what happens now?” he asked quietly.

Jin shrugged. “Jaehyun takes your place.”

 “I meant between us, hyung.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “Your uncle won’t like it.”

“I’ve never been one to care about what he likes,” Jin said simply as he turned to his side to grin cheekily at Jimin. “But now—because I’m a gentleman—I will court you.”

“Court me?” Jimin laughed. “We’ve known each other for ten years, hyung.”

Jin kept that stupid grin on his face. “So?” he arched a questioning eyebrow. “How does a picnic sound?”

Jimin couldn’t stop giggling. “Amazing.”

“Good.” And with that, Jin planted a kiss on Jimin’s lips.

Jimin thought he was dreaming.

Now they sat around a table, the regent on the opposite end, Chan next to Jin, Namjoon next to the regent. A few military men also sat around the table. The surprising addition was Min Yoongi who hadn’t left Taehyung’s side since they had entered the room.

Jimin had watched on curiously as the two shot each other smiles, hesitant and shy on Yoongi’s side and confident from Taehyung. Yet despite the shy smiles from Yoongi, he seemed gravitated to the young prince, comfortable and giggling whenever Taehyung said something, shoulders moving along with his giggles. It was oddly cute from what Jimin had assumed was a harsh prince in Yoongi. He narrowed his eyes at the pair as Taehyung whispered something in Yoongi’s ear.

Taehyung wasn’t one to fall in love and in a way, Jimin worried for Yoongi.

His attention was grabbed by Yoo Chun who slammed his hand onto the table, face red. “You are not removing the governor of Jeonju from the council, Seokjin. This is madness!” he took a deep breath. “He has been an ally for years!”

Jin looked undeterred by his uncle’s outburst. “His family is planning to ambush us, uncle. I wouldn’t exactly call him an ‘ally’.”

“Ambush?” Namjoon asked, scepticism all over his face. “I thought that was just an assumption.”

Of course, Namjoon ever the pragmatist. “I think your plan for the council might be rash, hyung,” he continued. Next to him, Yoo Chun was still fuming.

“Rash yes but necessary,” Taehyung spoke up for the first time. “The regent was, is planning something. Better he’s out. We don’t know who else is involved. Jin-hyung may as well start from scratch with people he trusts.”

Yoo Chun shook his head, shooting Yoongi a disdainful. “So you’ve decided to trust a fucking Min?”

Yoongi smiled, enjoying the man’s outburst. Jimin liked that about him. Despite his circumstances, he always managed to look confident, unbothered by the judgement and dirty looks he had inevitably received.

“I think you’d find I make an excellent, ally, Regent,” Yoongi said respectfully.

“This is fucking insane. Your father wouldn’t stand for this,” Yoo Chun muttered. “This is madness. A fucking Min.”

“I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, uncle but this is my decision and either you stand with me or you don’t.”

The regent flared his nostrils, hands shaking. “The court won’t stand for this.” He shook his head. “Unless you give them something in return. An heir.”

Jin chuckled quietly. “That’s not happening anytime soon either, Uncle.”

Yoo Chun’s eyes suddenly shifted to Jimin and something seemed to clicked. He laughed loudly. “What? You’ve decided to marry the court’s whore?”

“Uncle,” Namjoon warned.

Jin tilted his head to the side, a smile on his lips. “I’d really watch what I say next.”

Yoongi’s eyes met Jimin’s and he looked sorry. He stretched his lips into a sort of smile and Jimin returned it, letting him know he was fine. He could handle the word ‘whore’, he had heard it enough times already.

“I should have known you’d turn this into a fucking circus.” The regent shook his head with a bitter smile before standing. “I’m your uncle, Seokjin. I know what’s best for you and for this kingdom. Your made-up war with Jeonju is a suicide mission.” He paused, eyes landing on Jimin. “He’s nothing but a servant willing to use his mouth on anyone willing to throw some measly gold coins at him.”

With those words, he stormed out of the room, leaving Jimin slightly rattled, his heart threatening his chest. For a moment, the room was deathly silent. Jimin couldn’t look at Jin so his eyes landed on Taehyung and he saw Yoongi’s hand clutch Taehyung’s tightly.

And if this had been any other time, Jimin would have told Yoongi to run.

Yoongi sat outside in the Queen’s orchard. Orange and lemon trees surrounded him on the wooden bench. There was a strong citrus smell in the air with a mix of lotus and roses. The sky was clear as the sun set in the horizon. Jeongguk and Hoseok had gone down to city to explore but Yoongi had stayed behind, opting to watch the sun set instead.

Not for the first time, he wondered if he was making the right decision allying himself with Jin. Watching how calm he had looked in front of his uncle earlier was telling. Jin knew what he wanted and he wasn’t worried about who he annoyed on his way to getting it. Yet, at the end of the day, Jin was right, Jeonju had been out for an insurrection. Their plans had been delayed by Taehyung but that didn’t mean this was anywhere near over. For all they knew, it was the regent behind all of it. He had looked so angry about the expulsion of the council. It wasn’t off-field to suspect the man.

Then there was the little issue of Taehyung. Yoongi couldn’t figure it out. Didn’t know why his heart sped up or why he was so fascinated by the younger. He liked being around him, liked looking into his pretty eyes and when he had held Taehyung’s hand earlier today, he had felt something. He didn’t know what it was but it was there…

Yoongi had never liked someone, except Hoseok but that had been ages ago. He normally kept his emotions under lock and key, but Taehyung was under his skin and he couldn’t stop thinking about his grin or how he looked back at Yoongi when he walked, like he was leading him somewhere dangerous and Yoongi was compelled to follow.

Last night, he had lay awake in his bed, Hoseok and Jeongguk in the room too.

“I’ve never been in love,” Jeongguk had said quietly.

Hoseok had shot him an amused grin. “You’re still young. It’ll come.”

“Do you like Namjoonie-hyung?” Jeongguk asked.

Hoseok had been quiet for a moment, thinking about it. “I thought I did, but there is something about him that I can’t put my finger on. I don’t know…” he trailed. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

They had waited for Yoongi to take the bait but Yoongi remained silent until one of them groaned. “You’ve been hanging around the youngest prince, hyung…”

Yoongi kept quiet, not even sure what to say.

“He’s pretty,” Hoseok said quietly.

“I wouldn’t call that pretty. He’s—” Jeongguk looked for the world. “Stunning.”

Stunning, Yoongi thought. Yeah.

“He’s a Kim. I’d rather die first.”

“Dramatic,” both Jeongguk and Hoseok murmured.

After a moment,  Hoseok continued, “You think Jin-hyung and Jimin are in love?”

Jeongguk had rolled his eyes. “It’s kind of obvious. They are constantly eye fucking each other.”

Yoongi agreed. He had seen it from the start. Jin and Jimin were in love. For some odd reason, that made him question how he felt about Taehyung.

Now he sat on the bench, watching the sun set, desperate to get home and forget everything that had happened in Yeosu. He wanted to see his mother, his uncle, spar with Hoseok and Jeongguk in the courtyard. Yeosu was draining him and Yoongi didn’t like it. He thought about his daggers in his trunk and how neglected they were. How things had changed so drastically and he had no idea when or how…

“You really shouldn’t think so much,” Taehyung’s voice came.

Of course, Yoongi thought, I must be cursed.

He felt the younger sit next to him but he did not turn to face him.

 “It’s the only thing I’m good at,” Yoongi said. Jeongguk and Hoseok were right, he was dramatic, but kill him if he ever admitted that out loud.

“You aren’t too bad with knives either, hyung. Don’t sell yourself short,” Taehyung teased, the hint of a laugh evident in his voice.

“I’m still under suspicion, especially from your uncle. I can’t just go about swinging them around.”

This earned him a small chuckle from Taehyung. Yoongi liked the sound and he wanted to kick himself for thinking that. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. He was out of line.”

“Third time you’ve apologised to me in less than twenty-four hours, Tae,” Yoongi murmured, still not looking at him.

He felt Taehyung shift next to him, to look at him closely. “That’s because I want you to know I mean it.”

Yoongi didn’t know what to say to that so he just looked ahead at the sinking sun and the orange sky. They were both quiet for a few minutes, feeling the soft breeze that ran through the orchard.

Taehyung’s voice was small when he asked, “Why won’t you look at me, hyung?”

And Yoongi swallowed, daring himself to turn and look at Taehyung. It shouldn’t have been scary or anything but he knew what he felt was a dangerous thing to feel. He could barely trust Taehyung and yet—yet he still found himself feeling the most calm around him.

 As usual, something fluttered in his stomach and it was getting pretty old at this point. He wasn’t sure what to say so he went for his usual reaction when people annoyed him—an arched eyebrow.

Easy fix.

Taehyung smiled, eyes glinting as they crinkled at the corners prettily . Yoongi really was so fucked. “You’re so pretty, hyung.”

And Yoongi didn’t really know what he was doing when he leaned into Taehyung and kissed him softly, right there under the blossoming citrusy trees and orange sky. It was soft, barely a touch but a kiss nonetheless as his heart sped along. He didn’t really know what it meant when he touched Taehyung’s soft skin right under his jaw, brushing his thumb against it delicately.

He really didn’t fucking know what it meant when Taehyung broke away grinning, and said, “I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” before kissing him again.

Chapter Text

As quickly as the spell was cast, so it was broken. Yoongi moved away from Taehyung, the younger’s eyes glinting in the remnants of the sun. His mind buzzed with all sorts. The fear standing out.

Fear of what this all meant .

Fear of betraying his family.

Fear of that faint glimmer of hope that had been sparked somewhere in the crevices of his heart.

“I’m so sorry,” Yoongi murmured, mouth still tingling, blood still rushing, colouring his ears a harsh red.

Taehyung looked at Yoongi oddly, “Why are you sorry, hyung?”

Yoongi was still flustered, not sure what to say as his eyes looked everywhere else but at Taehyung. “I—” he paused. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know why I—"

“You didn’t want to?” Taehyung asked quietly. He shifted back on the bench as if he had been burnt and Yoongi almost reached out to stop him but his hand only paused mid-air, heart choking him. The sun was almost gone now and Yoongi still didn’t know where to look or what to say.

He wanted to, of course he wanted to, but there was that small factor that he knew he shouldn’t trust Taehyung, that the younger wasn’t telling him something or that this was all an act and Yoongi was smarter than that. He was smarter than all of this. At least he hoped he was.

“No,” he said. “I mean you’re a Kim and I’m—”

“A Min,” Taehyung finished, eyes still glinting.

A chill had settled on Yoongi’s skin as he finally looked at Taehyung again, finding himself drowning in the pool of honey and not knowing how to save himself.

“Yeah...”

And that should have been enough reason. Their families were tainted with enough bad blood and Yoongi couldn’t forget what they had done to his home. He couldn’t allow himself to forget. Holding onto that hate had kept him alive, given him purpose. Befriending the very people that had been responsible for his father’s ruin was wrong. Kissing Taehyung was wrong.

“That doesn’t have to mean anything anymore, hyung.” Taehyung’s voice was quiet or maybe it was the ringing in Yoongi’s ears. The confusion running through his mind.

Taehyung woke a part of him he didn’t even think he had. A part he had never really had time to focus on. There was nothing he could do to quieten it but he could walk away. He could tell Taehyung no and leave Yeosu tomorrow without joining the council, without getting the southern border back. Without killing Jin.

He had already failed. Walking away now would be better before he hurt himself in the process by falling for someone whose intentions were unclear at best.

“But it does,” Yoongi said carefully. “It’s meant everything since I was born.”

Taehyung licked his bottom lip and Yoongi couldn’t help but stare. He was still flushed from the kiss, could still feel the slight tingle—wanted to do it again.

“Jin-hyung wants all of that to end,” Taehyung replied, just as carefully. “He’s made his intentions clear, hyung. The war between our families is over. Let it die.”

Let it die.

The words played over and over in Yoongi’s mind. He wanted to but he couldn’t, not when he could still see the remnants of war when he left his parents’ home.

“I can’t just…” Yoongi trailed, drowning once again in the ocean that was Taehyung. The honey eyes pulling him down until it was difficult to breathe.

Taehyung placed a gentle hand on Yoongi’s cheek, eyes pleading. “Hyung,” he breathed. “I know it goes against your nature to trust me, but—”

Suddenly, Yoongi felt a shadow loom over him and a guard appeared, dressed in full uniform and face smudged with the day’s troubles, a sheen of sweat on his brow from the heat. Taehyung’s hand fell and Yoongi felt cold.

“Your graces,” he bowed fully. “I have been asked to escort you to meet the king.”

Taehyung looked at Yoongi before turning to the guard. “Do you know what it’s about?”

The guard’s face fell and nodded once. “I believe it has to do with the robbery that took place along the road out of the city. Three families from the council were travelling together when their carriages were upturned and attacked by thieves. Their bodies were found a few hours ago. There were no survivors.”

Yoongi took in a sharp breath, eyes blinking fast. “You said members from the council?”

The guard nodded. “Yes, your grace. We suspect they were from Suncheon, Hadong and Jinju.”

Without meaning to, Yoongi looked at Taehyung, eyes questioning but Taehyung set his mouth in a hard line and shook his head a little. “I didn’t do this.”

Yoongi felt bad for immediately assuming Taehyung had something to do with it, but looking at him, there was no confident smirk, no upturned lips and Yoongi was inclined to believe him. This did more harm than good and Yoongi had a gut feeling neither Jin nor Jimin had been involved either.

“Let’s go,” Yoongi stood and began to follow the guard.

Seokjin looked on edge. His palms were placed flat on the wooden tables and his shoulders were filled with tension. Jimin stood just behind him, face just as rigid, watching the gathered group with sharp eyes, as if looking for the culprit among them. Yoongi knew Jin wanted to overhaul the council but he doubted the new king would be as careless as this. These murders were senseless and messy. Jin didn’t do messy. He was calculated and careful, not afraid to take his time.

The haste in the murders pointed to another perpetrator. Could it have been Jeonju, Yoongi wondered as his eyes moved through the room, landing on the eight remaining council members along with the army generals. All of them looked more afraid than guilty. Afraid that they would be next. Yoongi’s eyes fell on the regent, whose face was blank, seemingly numb to the news. Namjoon who sat nearest to Jin looked just as worried, under-eyes dark like he hadn’t slept much.

Even Taehyung seemed tense leaning on the wall, jaw clenched as his eyes swept the room.

“Do we have any more news?” Jin asked to no one in particular, voice deathly quiet.

For all his smiles and nonchalance, Jin held a quiet power within him and it was violent and angry—apparent now that someone had blatantly defied him.

An army general scrambled to his feet, knocking over a chair with a loud bang, making everyone jump in their seats. A servant rushed to pick it up as the general blathered, “N-no, Exalted!” he bowed. “We didn’t receive any more news. It would seem it was a random attack.”

This time Jin looked up, smiling bitterly. Yoongi noticed Jimin take in a sharp breath.

“Don’t be so simple-minded, general. How can it be a coincidence that several of our council members were killed in a single attack?”

Jin glared at the general who despite being a tall man with all his amour, looked incredibly small under Jin’s gaze.

“They were stripped of their clothes and robbed, Exalted. Their jewels were all taken.  Surely—”

“Please sit down, general,” Jin said tersely and the man immediately obeyed, taking his seat with pursed lips and a red face. “This wasn’t a random attack. Someone wants to cause confusion in the court.”

“Perhaps, Exalted, someone heard the rumours of you upturning our council and sought to question your legitimacy by carrying out this attack and blaming it on you,” the governess of Gurye spoke up suddenly.

There was a collective and quiet gasp through the room as the council members began to murmur among themselves, confused by the word ‘upturn’. The chatter grew louder until there was blatant arguing between the members and the generals. Jimin clutched the end of his sleeves tightly, Namjoon sat back and watched carefully and Taehyung kept his eyes on the governess.  Jin on the other hand, looked surprised as she stared him down. A rare look on him.

Yoongi could tell the king was losing the room quickly, sending more panic and disorder than calm. An attack like this was a clear attack on the council in general. Jin was angry, and Yoongi doubted he had the mind right now to settle and assure wealthy old men and women.

Yoongi found himself speaking before he could stop himself. “The Exalted only wishes to forge new bonds and new territories, governess. He retired the governor of Jeonju because he fell ill and therefore would have been unable to serve well. The Exalted would have given you all an opportunity to prove yourselves and maintain your influence. He is right in assuming that this might have been done to cause disorder through the council and ultimately the palace.” He paused. “If the Exalted loses your support now, then that would be the fall of Yeosu and ultimately your cities too. I doubt you want to see Gurye die.”

The room had fully turned its attention to Yoongi and he tried not to feel self-conscious as his eyes landed on Taehyung.

Let it die.

He tore his eyes away and back to the governess whose eyebrow was arched in question and something like disgust playing on her wrinkled features. “And how do we know that you and your peasant family aren’t responsible? Your family has attempted on countless instances to destroy Yeosu.”

Yoongi tried not to react to the insults, keeping his features neutral as he looked at the governess carefully. Ultimately, he had heard worse. “My family and the Kims have decided to bury that in the past with our fathers, governess.”

For a moment, she stared him down but Yoongi was undeterred, gazing back at her just as harshly. He had expected this of course. The backlash that came with cavorting with the Kims. No side would be pleased about the development, but this was the right move for the north. They needed the trade, they needed the land. Taehyung had been right anyway.

Yoongi was going to let it die.

“This isn’t the time for this,” Jin murmured. “The worst we can do is show we are panicking. The aim of this attack was to cause an upheaval, undermine my seat. I won’t let that happen and I hope neither of you do either.” He breathed, looking carefully at the group before him, standing tall and sure. “I am choosing to trust all of you and I hope you may do the same for me. You will be escorted by my guards back to your homes to avoid anything like this from happening.” He turned to the army generals. “This wasn’t a random attack, generals and I believe if we don’t find the person responsible for this, it will happen again.”

The generals bowed in their seats. There was a careful silence through the room for a moment. No one quite sure how to proceed. A witch hunt would be underway at this moment and the first culprit would be Jeonju. Yoongi had a feeling they weren’t going to survive this, knowing Seokjin’s soldiers had already lined up along his border.

After a moment, someone cleared their throat. “Perhaps it is time to show that you are determined to strengthen the kingdom, Exalted,” Yoo Chun began tentatively. “An heir, for example would show your determination to extend our line and offer a very welcome distraction from all this messy politics.”

There were a few nods around the table and Yoongi’s eyes fell on Jimin who looked slightly uncomfortable at the mention of an heir.  

Jin smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You will get your heir, uncle. Don’t worry yourself too much.”

The regent arched a curious eyebrow, leaning back in his seat and smiling knowingly. “So you have picked a wife then?” It was mocking but none of the nobles nor the generals noticed. “I would love to meet her!” To them, Jimin was still a servant but him being in this room said everything but and the regent knew exactly what he was doing.

Jin, however, looked unmoved.

“And you will, uncle.”

The regent tilted his head to the side slightly. “What will you do with your servant then?” He nudged his chin towards Jimin.

Next to him, Namjoon cleared his throat. “Perhaps this is a conversation to have in private, uncle?” Around them, the nobles looked on with keen interest. Desperate to get a shred of gossip on the young king of Yeosu. And the thoughts all ran through the council’s minds as they watched, almost forgetting that their precious lives were in danger.

Of course he was fucking his servant. And yet, he had bowed to him the night before and now—well now his plaything was sitting in on an important meeting.

Was the new king of Yeosu in love?

And with a servant nonetheless?

What a scandal, just perfect enough to ruin him.

“The Exalted has other pressing matters. A wife is not one of those,” Namjoon continued evenly.

Yoongi regarded Namjoon carefully. The prince looked extremely tired as he tactfully diffused the situation.

“Hmm,” Yoo Chun murmured. “I just wonder what Seokjin’s plans are. First he has a Min sit in on a council matter and then I notice his servant is here too…”

Behind Jin, Jimin gritted his teeth, glaring at the regent. Yoongi could tell he wanted to speak but it wasn’t his place.

Not yet at least.

Jin let out a single laugh. “Perhaps you were in another opium stupor when I made it clear that Jimin is no longer a servant, but my advisor.”

Wide eyes were all over the table, shocked by the news of a servant on the council.

The regent chuckled loudly. “You are making a mockery of your father, Jinnie. You really are.”

“And here I thought it was your penchant for drugs and alcohol that did that.”

The room went deathly silent. Yoongi felt uncomfortable, knowing he was unwelcome. The regent and the governess of Gurye had just made that clear. Almost everyone in this room would leave and tell the story of how the new king had welcomed a traitor into the council, not to mention a whore. None of this looked good for Jin.

For a moment, Yoongi thought he was making a mistake, but then his eyes fell to Taehyung who was giving him a small smile from across the room and he knew he wasn’t. His home deserved a break and if that meant taking the knee for Seokjin then so be it. He thought about his blades once again and swallowed. Perhaps he didn’t need them to kill Jin, but looking around the room, at the regent and the council, he knew they might still be of use.

“Please utilise my soldiers on your journeys back home. I would hate it if something happened to you,” Jin said turning back to the council.

They all nodded, standing to their feet and bowing lowly for Seokjin. The guards that had been standing in the room ushered the council out as they murmured in hushed tones.

Jin’s body was rigid, jaw clenched as he turned his eyes to Taehyung when the last of the council was out of the door, fury burning in his eyes.

“Did you do this?” Jin asked quietly.

Taehyung didn’t seem surprised or offended that his brother had thought to ask him first. Instead, he folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “I’m not that stupid.”

The fury somewhat dissipated as Jin nodded, believing Taehyung. “I just had to make sure.”

In his chair, Namjoon cleared his throat. “I don’t trust Uncle,” he said quietly. “He is doing his best to undermine your rule, hyung.”

Yoongi fidgeted in his seat. Yoo Chun was a piece of work but somehow Yoongi doubted the man was sophisticated enough for this. Whatever this was, it was well planned and with a sinking feeling, Yoongi realised that none of it was over.

“Chan is dead too, you know,” Jin murmured softly.

The advisor from Suncheon who had recently been promoted to the council for his loyalty. He had been in the procession back to Suncheon when their carriages had been attacked. Yoongi had never spoken to the man but something inside him twisted when he thought about his body lying in the road, throat slit open and body stripped naked.

“The worst we can do now is lose control. You need to carry on like nothing happened. Go into the city and let people know they can trust you,” Jimin said, voice admirably level, even after the regent had done his best to embarrass him. “For now, we carry on as if normal.”

“I’ll find out who did this,” Taehyung said quietly.

“And how will you do that? For all you know whoever is responsible for this, is gone,” Namjoon countered.

Taehyung shrugged. “They can’t be far. They are after the throne. I say they are probably in Yeosu right now.”

Nodding, Namjoon stood from his seat. “I don’t know if our own uncle would be behind something like this, but I wouldn’t overlook him.”

Jin was quiet for a second before turning his attention to Yoongi. For a moment, he simply gazed at him, as if thinking about something, then,“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Yoongi was surprised, once again wondering how his life had led him to this moment where he was nodding at Seokjin, helping the man he had come to kill.

“I know our families have had their differences but thank you for putting that aside,” he said. “You have no idea how useful it is  having the north on our side.”

Oh, Yoongi did know but he simply smiled a little, standing from where he sat and bowed. “I’m trusting you to keep your promise to let the north govern itself without interference.”

 “You have my word, Yoongi.”

Yoongi needed to go. He needed to think. So much had happened in the last few hours. He had kissed Taehyung and Taehyung had kissed him back. Now the council was being killed off and no one knew who was behind it. He could barely trust anyone, much less Kim Seokjin.

“If you’d excuse me, Exalted,” Yoongi murmured, choosing to be respectful.

Jin nodded and Yoongi began to walk towards the door. He was almost out when he saw Taehyung, looking at him carefully, eyes full of question. Yoongi wanted to forget what he had done. Wanted to forget Taehyung’s pretty flushed face and pink lips in the late afternoon sun.

He was desperate to forget what it felt like to drown in honey.

But how did one forget such a thing? How did one erase such a feeling?

When he stepped out into the hallway, he took a deep breath, knowing a new guard was somewhere behind him, trailing so as to keep him safe. It was probably the new protocol, higher security for nobles just in case.

Just in case whoever was behind this decided to slit Yoongi’s throat too.

He was near Hoseok’s room when he heard someone call his name and footsteps. The voice told him it wasn’t Taehyung and when Yoongi spun to face the source of it, he was faced with Jimin. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. The former servant looked every bit regal, dressed finely in green silk and hair tousled to perfection. The only thing out of place Yoongi could see was the small bruise peeking out of his collar. Yoongi almost smiled. When the regent had mentioned marriage, Yoongi doubted this was what he had in mind.

“Your grace,” Jimin breathed, cheeks flushed. “I need to talk to you.”

Yoongi regarded him closely, wondering what it was about. He barely had any interaction with Jimin save for the first night in the palace. “Is everything okay?”

Jimin looked unsure, which was an odd look on him. Finally, he nodded. “I just wanted to say—thank you.” He paused. “Having the north as an ally was really important for Jin and despite everything going on, you being on our side is—” he breathed. “It helps Jin.”

Yoongi noted the use of Jin’s name without any honorifics, plus the word ‘our’. He tilted his head slightly in question, “Can I ask you something, Jimin-ssi?”

Jimin nodded quickly in response.

“Are you and Jin-hyung together? I know you were his servant but I mean are you two …” Yoongi couldn’t find the right words without being disrespectful so he let himself trail.

That seemed to surprise Jimin, eyes opening wide and finally looking his age. Pretty and young and deceptively innocent. “Well, uh, we only just…” Just like Yoongi, Jimin seemed to be struggling with his words too.

Yoongi offered a small reassuring smile. He didn’t care. In a way, he was happy for them, but this offered more problems than it did solutions and no one would approve. Least of all the regent.

“It’s okay,” Yoongi said quietly. “You don’t have to continue. I get it.”

“Ah, yes, unfortunately the palace won’t. The rumours have already begun flying.” Jimin smiled back sadly, cheeks colouring as he cleared his throat. He looked small like this, Yoongi thought. They were the same height but somehow Jimin’s presence was larger than life. Always in control even in situations such as these. “I suppose I must ask you too then.”

Yoongi arched an eyebrow despite knowing where this was going.

“Taehyung?” Jimin said carefully.

Yoongi didn’t say anything, waiting for Jimin to continue whatever it was he wanted to say.

“He seems to have managed to get close to you,” he continued stoically. “Do you trust him?”

Yoongi didn’t answer because he didn’t know. How exactly did he trust a viper disguised as a pretty boy?

Jimin let out a single laugh and continued. “Being the youngest has never been easy for him. You’d think he’d be doted upon since he was the youngest and not to mention the prettiest. Yet, the king treated him like he was less than dirt, as did the court. Perhaps his mother is the only one that cared. After her death, the only ones that ever protected him from his uncle and the palace in general were his brothers.” Jimin’s voice was quiet, deep in thought before he looked up to Yoongi once again, eyes saying something that Yoongi didn’t quite understand. “And just as I became loyal to Jin, so did he. As you might have realised, your grace, there is nothing I wouldn’t do, no one I wouldn’t hurt for him.” Jimin was quiet for a second, almost looking regretful. “I do not know the nature of your relationship but I think you must understand that just like me, for Taehyung, no one comes before Jin and that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do. No one he wouldn’t hurt. Therefore, if the time were to ever come, that I or Taehyung must cross a line—there wouldn’t be a second thought.”

Yoongi swallowed down the lump that had built up in his throat. He felt hot, the oppressing evening air stifling him. The realisation dawning on him, what Jimin was trying to say to him.

Taehyung had gotten close in order to get Yoongi to join the council and offer up the north as a way to block Jeonju’s advance. None of what he had done had been a coincidence or a stroke of chance. Yoongi had known this, of course he had known this. But he had hoped that maybe—maybe the kiss was real, that it wasn’t another ploy to get Jin what he wanted. Yet, the kiss had sealed the deal, hadn’t it?

Let it die, Taehyung had told him quietly.

Yoongi had listened.

Looking back at Jimin, Yoongi tried to smile but he knew it looked wrong.

“I think you might have misunderstood, Jimin,” he said quietly. “There is nothing between Taehyung and I.”

Jimin looked at him, eyes searching his face before he nodded, a sad smile playing on his lips. “He is like a spell, isn’t he?” Jimin asked quietly. “It’s the only way he’s managed to live this long.”

With that, Jimin bowed his head slightly and spun on his heel, heading back down the painted hallway, no doubt back to where he belonged-- to Jin. And Yoongi just stood there for a moment. If it hadn’t been clear before, it was clear now. He couldn’t wish for anything when it came to Taehyung.

He didn’t think he had, but after Jimin’s words, he realised that he did. He had wished for something when he kissed Taehyung earlier. Taehyung only cared about staying alive. He had said himself, hadn’t he?

Yoongi couldn’t have Taehyung.

Perhaps it really was time to go home. Sighing, Yoongi made his way to Hoseok’s room. Knocking gently, he heard a soft ‘come in’ and found Jeongguk sitting cross legged on the floor, sharpening a blade and Hoseok surrounded by silk pillows. They looked up at him and Hoseok sighed.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Jeongguk asked, noticing Yoongi’s pale face.

“I think we should head back home,” he said quietly. “I don’t think Yeosu is safe anymore.”

Hoseok pursed his lips and sat up straighter. “What happened?”

Yoongi didn’t know where to begin. Did he start with the kiss or the three dead council members? “I—” he swallowed. Not the kiss. Not yet at least. “Three council members were murdered on their journeys back home.”

Jeongguk’s already wide eyes widened further. “Shit.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi murmured.

“I think Yoongi likes him,” Jimin said to Jin once they were alone, save for the two guards that were permanent fixtures now. The night was warm, with a promise of rain in the morning. A soft breeze floated through the room and Jimin hugged himself.

“Taehyung?”

“Yeah,” Jimin answered. He bit his lip, feeling bad for Yoongi. Perhaps Yoongi had formed a connection with Taehyung but Jimin knew the young prince had too many secrets. Too many things that had happened to him to give Yoongi what he wanted. In a way, he hoped that this time, he was wrong about something.

“Maybe Taehyung likes him too,” Jin said reaching out his hand to Jimin.

Jimin felt warmth spread through him. It still felt like a dream, like he was floating. Despite all the chaos, all the death around them, he felt himself in the centre with Jin. With Jin, everything seemed alright. If they were together, Jimin suspected nothing could harm them. He took Jin’s hand and it was soft against his. Jin pulled him in and Jimin felt all the tension leave his body as the elder enveloped him. It was nice like this and for a moment, he forgot the guilt racking through his mind. Forgot about everything he had done.

Jin let him forget.

“Maybe,” Jimin whispered, looking up at Jin.

Once again, he thought of the secret Taehyung held under lock and key. How heavy and scary it felt to know such a thing and not be able to do anything about it.

Jin pressed a light kiss on his mouth and Jimin smiled against his lips. He was so terribly in love and when this was all over, he couldn’t wait to make it real. But moments like this made him forget.

Forget Taehyung’s secret.

Forget about what he had done.

With Jin, Jimin was safe and so, so happy.

“C’mon,” Jin said softly. “We need to come up with a plan.”

Jimin nodded, snapping out of the spell and moving away to face Jin. If Jin was going to survive this, they had to be smart and that meant an extremely good plan.

“Do you want me to call your brothers?” Jimin asked.

Jin shook his head. “Not yet.”

Jimin looked at Jin carefully. “What do you have in mind, hyung?”

Calling Jin ‘hyung’ was still strange and without intending to, he smiled a little.

Jin breathed. “The governor of Jeonju knows who is behind all of this. We need to start there…”

Jimin listened carefully.

Somewhere in the palace, a man met another man and handed him a sack filled with a silver coins. The candles had begun to melt away and the quiet of the palace was almost eerie. Yeosu had begun to fall asleep and anyone who moved, moved in the shadows, to confess secrets or carry out treason.

“Why are you doing this?” one of the men asked quietly, careful to keep his head down, hiding his face under his black hood.

The other, who could be seen clearly, a playful and knowing smile on his lips was quiet for a moment before he said, “The palace is rotting. It’s time to clean it out.”

A heavy silence fell between the two as the one in the hood considered the words carefully. He had always thought Yeosu to be rotten, but not like this. Not rotten enough for this. However, he kept his head down as he bowed before disappearing into the shadows.

The man with a smile looked out into the courtyard, at the trees and at the beautiful gardens and stars. Perhaps he should have felt a little guilty, but his plan was well and truly in motion and Seokjin would never see him coming.

Yoongi was back in his room, the candles lit and the familiar sandalwood incense burning, sitting on the floor, cross legged, his blades before him. He stared at them for a while, the sharp steel glinting in the light. It was as if his father was in the room with him, telling him that he had failed him, that he had failed his mother by being so stupid. He had thrown away a perfect opportunity, let himself be swayed by an ocean that he was beginning to drown in.

His entire life had been leading up to this opportunity and he wasn’t able to do it. He wasn’t able to kill the king.

Instead, he had brokered a deal with Yeosu and had found himself wrapped up in Kim Taehyung without even realising what he was doing. Jimin’s words rang through his mind and Yoongi tried to feel angry but there was nothing. It was oddly empty, something like acceptance and he wished he could hate the Kims.

It was strange, hoping for something when you hadn’t even realised you wanted it before it came along. And then losing that hope just as quickly. Realising that Taehyung had put him exactly where he wanted him.

What would his mother say? What would she think when she finally woke from her blankness? There were so many questions and Yoongi had no way to answer any of them. He breathed deeply and picked up the blades once again, their silver catching the golden light. Steadily, he pricked his finger with the tip. It barely stung and he watched the little crimson spot grow before it dribbled down his finger. He let the blood flow down his hand before standing to clean it up. As he made light work of it, he sighed. He was sorry for a lot of things, but at the end of the day, siding with the Kims a was the better decision—the lesser evil. He hoped his father understood that wherever he was.

It was late and he had already packed away his blades when he heard a soft knock on the door. Shuffling slowly from where he sat on the rug, he groaned, figuring it was a servant who was offering new towels. However, when he swung open the door, he was met by a pool of honey eyes and his heart immediately seized.

“Can I come in?” Taehyung asked quietly. He looked drawn in, worried about something and Yoongi was too stuck, brain short-circuiting to stop himself from moving aside and letting the younger in.

After a long drawn out silence, Yoongi’s mind finally kicked into gear. “What’s wrong?” Yoongi asked.

Taehyung moved further into the room, and Yoongi couldn’t help but think how strange it was to see him like this. There was no confident smile, no mischievous glint that always seemed to be playing some game. He ran a hand through his outgrown brown hair.

“We didn’t finish talking,” Taehyung said, deep voice quiet and careful, “Earlier.”

Yoongi’s mouth hung open for a moment, words failing him. What else was left to say? It was fine. Taehyung had to do what he had to do in order to get Yoongi to let Jin’s men through to the north. Yoongi didn’t want to be stupid. He already looked like an idiot, played so well by the youngest Kim.

“That’s okay, your grace. You don’t have to continue. Yeosu has access to the north. I’m a part of the council. There’s no need to pretend.”

Taehyung looked struck by the respectful tone Yoongi had taken, creating distance between them. It was cold and Yoongi couldn’t get himself warm enough. He looked regretful and Yoongi’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“Hyung…” he breathed, looking around the dim room, fingers fiddling with each other. Yoongi stood there, butterflies fluttering violently, but tried to keep his face neutral when he heard Taehyung speak again.

“Whatever you think about me is probably right,” he said. “Jin-hyung asked me to convince you to allow our soldiers into your lands to fight Jeonju. We suspected they were up to something even before the coronation. When I saw you speaking to Ahn Hye-Jin that night, I thought perhaps you were working with them.”

“Right,” Yoongi murmured quietly. It was nothing new but it was a different thing to hear it said out loud. It told him that what he felt wasn’t real. It had only been a few days. What did a single kiss mean anyway?

Yet, Yoongi had still hoped.

“Maybe you should go,” Yoongi continued, looking everywhere else but at Taehyung. “It’s late and I should sleep.”

He heard Taehyung sigh loudly. “You don’t get it, hyung.” This time, Yoongi did look at him. Taehyung’s eyes were desperate, trying to communicate something to Yoongi. “I wanted you to kiss me. I—I don’t know how this happened but I wanted you to kiss me. That wasn’t some trick to get you to do what I want. I wanted this...”

The words took a moment for Yoongi to process. They sounded sincere and yet Yoongi couldn’t bring himself to trust Taehyung. The earnest eyes and the prettily flushed cheeks. It didn’t seem real. Jimin’s words played in his mind over and over again.

He’s like a spell, isn’t he?

 “It doesn’t matter though, does it? It happened and it can’t happen again.” His mind was telling him to keep resisting but Taehyung had taken a step toward him and Yoongi had forgotten how to move.

“Why?” Taehyung asked, voice small.

Yoongi wanted to move away. His heart was beating too quickly and he couldn’t swallow. “B-because,” he said. “I don’t know you and—”

“I’m a Kim?” Taehyung was smiling now, slipping right back into his confident smirk. Yoongi’s  mind was moving at a rapid pace, calculating what to do next, whether to move back or stay. He remembered sitting on the bench earlier that day, looking into Taehyung’s eyes as the sun had fallen, and him falling along with it. How nice it had felt. How safe.

“Yes,” Yoongi said, or at least he thought he said it. He cleared his throat, trying to convince himself to move away because Taehyung was only a breath away and if he moved an inch, he would touch him. “I leave the day after tomorrow.”

For a second, Taehyung’s eyes went wide and the reaction was surprising, the childlike fear that grew in his eyes.

“Okay,” he said quietly, seemingly resigned. “Kiss me then.”

That pushed Yoongi to take a step back. “What?”

Taehyung smiled again, but it was watery and he shrugged. “You’re leaving so what happens tonight doesn’t have to matter.”

It took Yoongi a second to understand exactly what Taehyung was saying. The younger’s eyes were challenging and the smile on his face made Yoongi want to move closer again. In a way, Taehyung was right. This didn’t have to matter.

Sadly, Yoongi did want it to matter and he couldn’t even bring himself to feel ashamed of it.  

He looked at those pretty pink lips and the sun-kissed skin, the column of his neck and he couldn’t bring himself to say no. In that moment, he didn’t care about what his family would think if they ever found out. He didn’t care that Taehyung had just confessed to using him.

What did it matter if he was leaving anyway?

Outside, below the hill, Yeosu had tucked itself into bed and drifted off for the night, unaware of what was happening in the palace above. The people of Yeosu did not know that a certain prince placed gentle kiss on a mortal enemy’s lips. Yeosu dreamt sleepily as the sole heir to the Min dynasty let the youngest prince touch him anywhere he wished to. Yeosu was too lost in its dream to hear the quiet moan that escaped the young prince’s mouth, could not see the smile against his neck as the prince ran a hand through the Min heir’s soft dark hair. Indeed, Yeosu did not quite understand the implications of such a thing taking place just a few miles away.

Yoongi remembers thinking Taehyung’s lips were soft. The younger traced light kisses against his neck as Yoongi tried his very best not to let out any unintelligible sounds. There was a tangled mess of hands as they worked on undoing ties on robes and heavy breathing against skin.

Yoongi felt Taehyung grip his hip bones and he let out a quiet sound into the dip of Taehyung’s neck. He didn’t know how they had ended up here. The kisses were messy but intoxicating as the light from the candles danced around them, the dying scent of incense floating in the air.

“Hyung,” Taehyung breathed against Yoongi’s mouth.

The way he said it sent a shiver up Yoongi’s spine. He pulled away and looked into Taehyung’s determined eyes, breathing heavy as he felt the pressure from Taehyung’s hands on his hips. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, caught between duty and desire, the pressure too much.

Desire kept winning out and Yoongi had abandoned his worries somewhere as he found himself pushing Taehyung against a wall, their lips connecting once again. His mind wasn’t coming up with anything coherent, just the feeling of Taehyung against him, how secure he felt as he slipped off Yoongi’s robe in the haze of kissing.

Yoongi couldn’t breathe, couldn’t really think as Taehyung broke away suddenly, leaning his head against the wall and looking down at Yoongi, his bruised bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“Tae,” Yoongi sighed out and he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. Taehyung was looking at them with those eyes and he was caught in their light, unable to move, completely enchanted by whatever spell Taehyung had cast.

In a swift move, Yoongi was against the wall, the cold touching his bare back as his body was entirely enveloped by Taehyung’s larger frame. And yes, it felt good like this.

Safe.

Taehyung kissed him again, but this time it was light and slow, just like when they had kissed in the garden. This felt good too as he felt Taehyung’s legs separating his and his thigh resting between them. The simple brush of it sent a misty cloud through Yoongi’s mind and he didn’t realise it when he let out a quiet moan that sounded something like Taehyung’s name.

Slightly embarrassed, he looked at Taehyung carefully, heart racing, mind spinning, heat on every bit of skin Taehyung had touched so far. The pressure too much and not enough as he felt the younger’s thigh between his legs. He wanted to grind down, increase the friction but he stood there, against the wall, breathing hard.

“Tell me what you want, hyung,” Taehyung breathed, voice deep and spent, cheeks coloured pink.

Him. Yoongi wanted him, but he didn’t know how to ask.

How did he ask for something he didn’t even know?

“You,” Yoongi finally said. “Just,” he breathed. “You.”

And the smile that spread against Taehyung’s lips could only be described as dangerous. He pulled Yoongi forward, gripping tightly as Yoongi sought more friction, coaxing a quiet groan from Taehyung. Desperate fingers ran through his hair and Yoongi wanted what he’d never done before.

Yoongi always knew he liked boys, from the moment he had fallen in love with Hoseok when they were kids to when he had met Jin and developed a small crush on him, inevitably drawn to the chaos that was Kim Seokjin. He had just never had enough time to explore that part of him. All his life he only had time to think about how he would ruin the Kims.

He had never thought about being with anyone, figuring his family would present him a wife some day and they would have to consummate their marriage. He had never felt this. The burning desire that scorched through his veins, so hot that it almost hurt. He had never seen anyone look at him with such want, like the way Taehyung was looking at him.

It was addictive and in that moment, he thought he wanted to be looked at like that forever. The honey eyes with burning desire, the knowing smile playing on his lips. So dangerous yet so easy to fall into.

“I want you too, hyung,” Taehyung said after a moment.

And Yoongi kissed him again, running his hands down Taehyung’s back, listening to the younger’s heavy breathing, liking the way he smiled against him. It felt good. Too good and it was going to be sad when he had to let it go.

Suddenly, Taehyung was walking backwards and Yoongi was careful to steer him in the right direction. The younger pushed Yoongi onto the bed and Yoongi fell softly, looking up at Taehyung who loomed over him, eyes sparkling.

Taehyung’s hand touched Yoongi’s bare chest and he moved onto the bed, before he began to kiss him down his chest, teeth latching onto his nipple and biting lightly. Yoongi let out a quiet groan, which seemed to encourage Taehyung who licked at it, and Yoongi could feel the growing pressure between his milky white thighs.  

“You’re sensitive, hyung,” Taehyung laughed, trailing his kisses down Yoongi’s taut stomach.

Yoongi leaned back, back arching slightly with his hand finding its way into Taehyung’s hair. He wanted to tell him to fuck off but the words couldn’t escape his throat along with he moans as Taehyung continued trailing soft kisses down his hip bone and to his thighs.

“Please,” Yoongi heard himself say. It was more a whine really and he felt Taehyung tap him gently, moving off of him to look at him in the eyes.

“You sure?” he asked softly.

Yoongi was sure. He wanted Taehyung. He wanted the younger to ruin him but he still didn’t know how to ask. He didn’t know what to expect. He was nervous but desire was winning the battle.

“I’ve never—” Yoongi began. “I just mean I am sure but I’ve never…” he trailed, hoping Taehyung understood. Taehyung smiled, running ran a hand against Yoongi’s cheek.

“That’s okay, hyung. We don’t have to.” His voice sounded so caring.

Yoongi let out a small laugh. Despite Taehyung being somewhat intimidating, there was something endearing and boyish about him. “I want this, Tae.”

“Mmh,” Taehyung hummed as he leaned down to kiss Yoongi again. Yoongi leaned up into it and made it deeper, rougher, as he nipped at Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Good,” he whispered as he moved down again, kissing Yoongi’s thighs. “Because I want you to fuck me.”

The words, said so nonchalantly almost made Yoongi choke. By now, he was terribly hard and the moment Taehyung reached for him, he let out a gasp, bucking his hips up slightly into Taehyung’s hand. Somewhere, he heard Taehyung laugh and then his mouth was on him. It took a lot not to moan loudly or not to grip Taehyung’s hair too tightly.

He was lost in the delirium as Taehyung expertly moved his mouth on the tip, licking down the length slowly and thumbing at the slit. Yoongi tried to remember how to breathe but it was all useless and it only got worse when Taehyung put him in his mouth sucking down slowly and fully, making Yoongi rut up.

He could almost feel Taehyung smiling wolfishly.

Taehyung moved up and then down again, painfully slow and Yoongi gripped at the sheet under him, shutting his eyes tightly. Somewhere, Taehyung hummed as he moved up again, mouth hot, hand following its trail.

“Tae, please,” Yoongi murmured.

He was moving faster now and Yoongi could only think of how hot and wet Taehyung’s mouth felt, loved the quiet moans escaping his throat and the hand gripping his thigh tightly enough to leave a bruise. He hoped he bruised, something that would remind him of this.

“Don’t come,” Taehyung ordered, but Yoongi wanted to let go. He was already on edge, clawing at the sheets, but he chose to listen—focused his breathing as Taehyung moved off him and knelt before Yoongi, smiling a little with spit on the side of his mouth.

Yoongi was desperate to kiss him. He sat up and quickly latched his lips against Taehyung’s and it was messy and desperate as he moved his hands everywhere he could on Taehyung’s bare body.

“Please fuck me, hyung,” Taehyung breathed. “Can you?”

Yoongi had never but the idea sent sparks through his body, too many ideas of what he could do rushing through his mind. He was suddenly grateful for all the oils the servants had prepared for him that first night they had arrived in the palace. Breaking away from him for a second, he reached for them and Taehyung was looking at him when he turned back, making Yoongi flush. It should have been more awkward but Taehyung had a reassuring hand on his waist and he was smiling so fondly, Yoongi was entirely too lost to worry about anything too much.

“I’m gonna have to prep myself, okay?” Taehyung said carefully.

Yoongi found it endearing that the younger was being so careful with him. It was sweet and he was safe but the part of him that wanted Taehyung was too strong to sit by patiently and simply watch.

“Can I do it?” Yoongi asked tentatively.

To his credit, Taehyung didn’t seem surprised, he simply shrugged and gestured for Yoongi to reach out his hand, which he did. Taehyung spread the oil all over Yoongi’s fingers, kissing him in the process before he lay back on the bed and looked up at Yoongi with a daring eyebrow arch. Yoongi was only happy to oblige, mesmerised by Taehyung’s body before him, much more tan and taut than his and entirely too stunning. Every part of him was simply too beautiful for words. Yoongi just stared for a minute.

“Are you just going to stare, hyung?”

That kicked Yoongi into action as he moved Taehyung’s thighs apart with his knee and slowly teased his hole with the tip of his forefinger. Taehyung let out a quiet unsteady breath and Yoongi smiled, liking the way the younger looked, all anticipation and adoration. He moved his finger in, earning him a quiet moan from Taehyung as his back arched into it. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Yoongi teasing with one finger, liking the sounds Taehyung was making and enjoying watching him. Knowing he was the reason Taehyung was like this.

“Another,” Taehyung said carefully and Yoongi was only happy to oblige.

“Fuck, hyung, so good,” he moaned at the third finger.

Yoongi was aching by now and all he wanted was Taehyung.

Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung.

It was when Taehyung was lying back on the bed, perfectly flushed and pretty, with Yoongi between his thighs that Yoongi felt a wave of sadness hit him. The realisation that he was only ever going to have this once and that would be it. Taehyung’s back arched and his lips parted so prettily, eyelashes wet. “Hyung,” he breathed, reaching out for Yoongi. “Please…”

And even if Yoongi had done this before, being with Taehyung would have been just as novel as it felt now. Just as intoxicating as it was now. He sunk into Taehyung and the younger moaned out his name loudly. Yoongi too found himself biting down on his lip until he bled, feeling the tightness and heat around his length as Taehyung tensed around him.

“Wanna hear you, Y-yoon-gi..” Taehyung breathed under him. “Wanna hear you tell me how good I feel.”

The words drove Yoongi further to edge, so close to breaking point. He listened though.  “You’re so good, Tae. So fucking good.” He leaned down to connect his lips with Taehyung’s and it was messy but exactly what both of them needed as Yoongi fucked into Taehyung slowly, taking his time to enjoy the feeling as the younger said something unintelligible against Yoongi’s mouth.

“You’re so pretty, hyung,” Taehyung whispered, looking at Yoongi with glassy eyes. “And you’re doing so well.”

It was too much and Yoongi felt himself tipping off the edge, he took Taehyung in his hand and stroked quickly, pulling a groan from Taehyung as he fucked into him and stroked his length at the same time.

“Come inside me,” Taehyung sighed out, feeling Yoongi on the edge.

It was a wave of pleasure and sadness that hit him at the same time as Taehyung spilt into his hand and he emptied himself inside Taehyung. The sparks were blinding and Taehyung’s moans mixed with his own almost addictive. It was too much and yet, it was over too quickly

Only after what felt like minutes did they move, Yoongi pulling out carefully and Taehyung groaning under him as he moved to his side. He reached for Taehyung’s hand and squeezed, the gesture offering more comfort than he realised it would. Everything was floating and he felt light, happy—maybe sad. The awful realisation of what this meant dawning on him as each second ticked by.

“We have to clean up,” Yoongi sighed, starting to feel a little disgusting, anything to distract himself from spiralling.

“No,” Taehyung cried against his temple. “Just wanna stay like this. You were so perfect.”

“Glad you approved,” Yoongi quipped but he would be lying if he didn’t say the praise made him feel good. Having Taehyung solid and warm against his body, breathing softly felt amazing.

“I more than approve,” Taehyung pressed a light kiss to his temple.

“God,” Yoongi muttered as he moved off the bed, even though he felt like staying right where he was, wrapped around Taehyung, letting himself drift. “I’m gonna get something to clean us up...”

After cleaning both of them up, Yoongi returned to the bed, putting on something to cover himself up. Taehyung sat up too, looking over at Yoongi then to the floor. “You okay?”

Yoongi nodded, not sure whether he could really speak and definitely unable to pinpoint his own feelings.

Taehyung remained quiet for a second, just looking at Yoongi. Yoongi looked at him too, tried to memorise everything that had taken place, tried to memorise every inch of Taehyung as he kept their hands intertwined. He didn’t know what hurt more. The fact that he had gotten what he had hoped for or the fact that he could never have it again.

“I think we could have been good for each other,” Taehyung said after a while.

Yoongi didn’t want to think about it, about what could have been if things were different, so instead he asked for what he could have. “Kiss me?”

And he did, until his lips were raw and his face was flushed, hair a mess and heart about to combust in his chest. Taehyung kissed Yoongi until they had both fallen back on the bed in a fog of euphoria and exhaustion. Yoongi’s eyes had begun to flutter and Taehyung’s face was fading in and out of his view, his limbs too heavy to respond when he felt Taehyung stroke his cheek gently. “There’s a world of secrets I want to tell you, hyung.”

“Tell me,” Yoongi said tiredly.

 “You’re beautiful.”

“Not a secret.”

He heard Taehyung giggle.

Perhaps he had fallen asleep and had begun to dream when he heard Taehyung say, “I was desperate for Jin to have your support. I don’t want to die hyung. If they find out about me; they’ll kill me. My father never liked me. I think he knew. He knew my mother had been having an affair.”  

“It doesn’t matter if your mother had an affair, Tae. That has nothing to do with you.”

Yoongi doesn’t remember actually saying that or maybe he did. Maybe he tried to squeeze Taehyung’s hand when he felt a tear fall on his cheek as Taehyung placed a kiss on his brow. His head was swimming with too much happiness and tiredness to understand what Taehyung was actually saying.

“It does matter,” Taehyung said. “I’m not a Kim, hyung. I don’t think Jin-hyung is either.”

Chapter Text

Park Jimin had decided to love Kim Seokjin fully. He was going to do it. It was time he told Jin everything and he didn’t care what the consequences would be. Perhaps that mentality was stupid. How could such a big thing not have any consequences? But he chose to be foolish, to have faith in Jin and trust he wouldn’t be angry. Jimin thought about it again, deciding he would prefer anger over disgust. He trusted Jin, he just hoped Jin trusted him just as much.

Jin had a plan and soon, this would be over and then maybe…maybe they would have a chance. If everything went on without a hitch, then there was a high chance they could survive this. Jimin already had a hunch about who was responsible for this. It clearly wasn’t Jeonju behind this and Jin had no grounds to go after the governor without an uproar from the council. It would have been simpler to lock the old man up until he confessed. The murders had been a curve ball though, messy and unplanned, definitely something meant to be pinned on Jin—maybe even the Mins and there was only one person Jimin knew was powerful and calculated enough to do such a thing.

He took a deep breath, the cool evening air brushing against his face, colouring his cheeks. He had left Jin, with a promise of coming back to him, sealed with a chaste kiss that promised more soon. The night was heavy, and as he walked through the shadows of the palace, his heart beat fast in his chest, palms sweating. He just had one last thing to do, then this would all be over.

Jimin made a left into the hallway that led to a balcony overlooking the city, but stopped when he heard voices ahead him. It was dark, save for the lamps lined up giving off  a gentle golden glow. Jimin took in a sharp breathed as he tried to listen. Straining his eyes, he caught a man he did not recognise overlooking the balcony. His face was unfamiliar to the palace and  Jimin was about to continue walking when he felt a rough hand grab him. He let out the beginnings of a yelp, but a hand had already covered his mouth before he could scream loud enough.

Jimin writhed in the heavy embrace, one arm around his waist and a hand clutched over his mouth. Only it wasn’t just a hand, but a cloth too, stopping him from biting. The grip was too strong and Jimin felt heavy, the screaming and thrashing dissolving into nothing. His limbs had begun to feel sluggish, the muffled screaming dying down, his head swimming with thick tar.

“This is how the palace whore dies,” the voice behind him gritted.

Jimin felt a tear escape his eye.

Then everything went blank.

Yoongi woke up, silver light pouring into the room. He was warm all over, hair matted on his brow, body heavy and liquid. He cracked his eyes open to find a golden arm slung over his chest and a sleeping Taehyung next to him, breathing softly. Yoongi couldn’t help the small smile that lit up his face, too endeared by the pouty pink lips to care about the loud world outside the room.

Outside, it drizzled softly, the droplets barely making a sound, and he thought about how peaceful this all seemed, like he had woken up in some dreamlike painting and he was its subject. Taehyung and his bubble had not been burst yet and Yoongi was tempted to bask in it, immerse himself and dream. Next to him, Taehyung groaned softly and stirred, mouth parting in a little sigh.

“Hey,” he murmured, eyes still shut.

“Hi,” Yoongi breathed, fighting the butterflies that fluttered somewhere inside him.

Taehyung dragged his arm off Yoongi’s chest lazily, shifting to sit up, despite his eyes still sitting closed, dark hair sticking out  in all sorts of directions. Yoongi lay on the pillow and watched, fascinated to see Taehyung so off his guard, face painted with the remnants of sleep. Eyes still half shut,  mouth pouty, Taehyung moved his hand to hold Yoongi’s tightly and Yoongi squeezed back. He wanted to bask in this bliss, fool himself into believing that it was real, or at least, he could somehow try and make it work. He found himself tracing patterns up Taehyung’s arm, and Taehyung turned to him, golden eyes glinting.

Yoongi was lost.

He’s like a spell, isn’t he?

The words had played over and over again in his mind, like a tune he couldn’t quite shake. It was both enchanting and ominous, his mind and heart still battling with who Taehyung was. Who he could be when the situation begged. Yoongi was smart enough to know it worried him, but a switch had been flipped inside him last night as Taehyung lay beneath him, waking up something he never knew existed.

We could have been good for each other…

Yoongi allowed himself to dream.

As he looked over Taehyung, mind spinning with all the things that had taken place the night before, the breathy moans, the words Taehyung had whispered to him, the possibilities, Taehyung smiled. “You think so much, hyung.”

Yoongi was going to deny it, and tell Taehyung he wasn’t really thinking at all, but something suddenly struck him—a hazy memory making its way to the forefront of his mind. Yoongi remembered Taehyung’s words as he drifted off to sleep the night before.  

In an instant, his heart seized and eyes widened as he looked at a still sleepy Taehyung.

“Tae…?”

Taehyung’s eyes opened fully and looked at Yoongi, glinting in the silver light . “Hm?”

“What you said last night,” Yoongi swallowed. It had dawned on him somewhere in the haze of the night and his sleep that he hadn’t been dreaming. The queen had an affair and Taehyung wasn’t a Kim. The gravity of the situation was not missed on him as he looked at Taehyung, whose face had turned blank, completely unreadable. No signs of sleep, just highly alert eyes staring back at him. “You really aren’t a Kim?” Yoongi continued tentatively.

If the palace were to ever find out that Taehyung was a bastard—maybe even Jin, that would be their heads. In a court like this, infidelity was unacceptable, punishable by death including the children. Taehyung sighed, looking out the window for a second before turning back to Yoongi. Yoongi tried not be distracted by Taehyung’s bare torso, by the little goose bumps creeping up on his honey skin, but it was hard to focus, nervousness flooding his veins.

“It doesn’t matter,” Taehyung murmured quietly.

Yoongi was confused. He gazed at Taehyung, trying to read what that meant exactly. This secret was something that could determine whether he stayed alive or not. If he died—Yoongi didn’t really want to think about it.

“But—”

“If no one ever finds out then it doesn’t have to matter,” Taehyung said, cutting off Yoongi, voice light.

Yoongi wanted to argue but he wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it. All too quickly, Taehyung was slipping out of the bed and Yoongi sat up, panicked, not ready to break the spell just yet. “Are you leaving?”

Taehyung looked over his shoulder, bare back on display and smiled. “Just getting water, hyung.” He went over to the tray with a jug and poured himself some water. He smiled gently at Yoongi. “Want some?”

Dumbfounded, Yoongi nodded and Taehyung walked back to him, slipping into the bed and Yoongi settling back into the warmth.

“Tae,” Yoongi breathed, because they had to talk about this. This secret was too big to ignore. There were too many things that could go wrong, especially now.

Groaning, Taehyung reached over to Yoongi, looming over him and trapping him with his arms, a playful smile that signalled he did not want to discuss this. “Hyung,” he breathed. “We can talk about this later. I want to enjoy this.” Then he placed a light kiss on the corner of Yoongi’s lips. “I want to feel you again.”

Yoongi was lost, so damn lost in the honey. Carefully at first, he moved to Taehyung’s lips, kissing him deeply, liking the warmth radiating from his bare skin, the lazy hands trailing all over. For a while, Taehyung surrendered himself to Yoongi and Yoongi liked the control, the feeling of Taehyung under him, holding him just as closely as if Yoongi might disappear. In that moment, Yoongi realised that both him and Taehyung were afraid of what would happen when they inevitably had to snap out of it. But for now, it didn’t matter, Yoongi wrapped himself around Taehyung, touching every bit of skin he could get his hands on, etching it into his memory, determined not to forget what it felt like to be wrapped in the cyclone that was Taehyung.

They were a tangled mess when the there was a knock on the door and suddenly, Jin walked in, and trailing behind him Namjoon. It took a moment before Yoongi could collect his thoughts to understand exactly what was going on. Jin was looking them, eyes blank, as if waiting for them to catch up. Namjoon on the other hand, seemed surprised, eyebrows arched high on his forehead and ears red to catch them like this. Yoongi’s own cheeks had flushed pink but next to him, Taehyung simply looked slightly annoyed.

“Get dressed,” Jin ordered tersely.

Yoongi’s heart slammed against his ribcage.  “What’s going on?” Yoongi asked, looking at Jin’s face. Something seemed awfully wrong, his eyes bloodshot like he had been crying.

Next to Jin, Namjoon cleared his throat. “It’s Jimin,” he said. “He’s missing.”

And so the bubble burst.

Fully dressed and bathed, Yoongi stared at the Kim brothers—who were seemingly half brothers now. They didn’t look alike per se, but Yoongi had figured they had taken different features off their parents. Namjoon, who was by far the one most removed from all the court’s shenanigans was now the only heir. Taehyung hadn’t confirmed Jin wasn’t a Kim, but it was a possibility and that kind of doubt could ruin him. Namjoon was perhaps the rightful king and as Yoongi looked at his unassuming form, he wondered if the middle prince knew this too. And if he did, could he be responsible for everything that had happened so far?

“Wait,” Taehyung said carefully. “How do you know he’s missing?”

Jin took in a deep breath, looking like he was about punch something, maybe Taehyung’s face. “He disappeared last night. He said he needed to do something but he didn’t come back.”

“Jimin is  always up to something. Are you sure he’s not off somewhere murdering someone for you?” Namjoon asked with a hint of a smile.

Jin didn’t seem to appreciate the comment. “He said he was coming back,” Jin insisted. “And the servants haven’t seen him. He doesn’t--” Jin sighed. “Jimin doesn’t disappear without telling me. I know something is wrong.”

“Have you asked Uncle?” Taehyung asked, looking like he regretted it the moment he said it.

Jin’s brow furrowed. “Why would he know?”

Taehyung looked around the room for a moment before turning back to Jin, eyes soft. “Just—” he sighed. “You might want to talk to him.”

Jin was quiet for a long moment, looking at Taehyung like they were communicating something between them. Yoongi was confused. He couldn’t figure out why he was there when this clearly had nothing to do with him. He expressed his sentiments, “I’m sorry, your grace, but why am I here?”

Just as those words left his mouth, the doors opened behind them and Jeongguk and Hoseok were escorted in by guards, looking just as confused as Yoongi felt.

“Exalted,” both Hoseok and Jeongguk said, bowing lowly before they turned to Taehyung and Namjoon and bowed too. The guards disappeared out of the door, closing it behind them. Looking at his family, Yoongi’s chest tightened at the prospect of having to explain everything that had taken place the night before.

“I need your help,” Jin said after nodding at both of them.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes, already reading where this was going and not liking it one bit. “We’ve already helped you,” he said before either Hoseok or Jeongguk could answer.

Jin nodded once sharply, gritting his jaw like it was paining him to even admit this. “Yes,” he said. “You have. And yet, I need more.”

In earlier times, Yoongi would have asked what was in it for him but he could see Jin was desperate. He was trying to look cool, but Jimin missing was too big a hit. He could handle court politics, dead council members, even the rumours, but this—losing someone he seemed to trust with his life was too much. The palace had turned against Seokjin and it seemed the only people he could trust, were in the room with him. Yoongi would have laughed if someone had told him he would be here, with the king of Yeosu trusting him when in fact, he had come to murder him.

“Everyone is this palace is under my suspicion except for you. I can’t ask any of my guards to go looking for him. I have no idea who to trust and I—” he stopped himself when he heard his voice crack. Jin looked to Yoongi, eyes desperate and searching and something in Yoongi broke.

Behind him, he heard Hoseok clear his throat, turning the room to him. “What’s going on?”

So Jin explained everything and when he was done, he looked tired. Yoongi couldn’t figure it out. Whoever was behind this sudden chaos was smart, but what did Jimin have to do with anything? Going after Jimin seemed too personal, a vendetta against the king himself? Ruin him in the worst way possible.

“Jeongguk, I have it on good authority that you’re an excellent tracker,” Jin said, voice trying its best to keep level.

Jeongguk glanced at Yoongi for a second, eyes wide and questioning. This was all wrong. Yoongi’s stomach twisted. There was no way he was going to allow Jeongguk to look for Jimin by himself. He didn’t care if he lost the borders. He couldn’t put Jeongguk’s life in danger. Not when they had no idea what they were up against.

“No,” Yoongi hissed. “No. You aren’t roping him into this.”

“Hyung—”

He wasn’t sure who said that but all he could see was something terrible happening to Jeongguk over some war that the north shouldn’t be involved in. He had already allowed Jin’s soldiers to line up along his border. This was pushing it.

This was Jeongguk.

“I can do it, hyung,” Jeongguk’s voice came, making Yoongi pause. “I want to help.”

Yoongi couldn’t believe this. He shot Jeongguk a glare that communicated exactly how he felt about this. “No.”

“I’ll go with him,” Hoseok said suddenly, looking directly at Yoongi with determined eyes. “If you’re worried about him being alone, I’ll go.”

Yoongi wanted to protest but looking at Jin’s eyes, how tired he looked. How broken. It seemed wrong. Someone like Jin should never look like that. “If something happens to him,” Yoongi breathed looking at Jin. “I will slit your throat.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched, glaring at Yoongi with no effort to hide his disapproval of the choice of words. Taehyung breathed deeply but didn’t look quite as murderous as Namjoon, knowing why Yoongi had initially come to Yeosu anyway.

“You could try,” Jin replied, voice light and Yoongi felt anger flare through him.

The Kims and their self-involvement. They would find time to look smug even when they were asking for help.

 “You said you saw him last night and then he didn’t come back?” Hoseok asked, bringing everyone back to the matter at hand. “How do we find him when he seemingly vanished? Do you have any idea where we should start?”

“Like I said, the regent,” Taehyung said levelly. “I’d start there.”

“Your uncle?” Jeongguk’s eyes were still wide and questioning. For all his strengths, he was still young and everything about this scared Yoongi.

“Why are you so adamant on our uncle?” Jin asked Taehyung, confusion colouring his face.

Taehyung shrugged. “Just talk to him.”

“Do you know anything about this?” Jin asked carefully.

Taehyung looked at his older brother, tilting his head to the side slightly, considering him carefully. “No.”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Just spit it out, Taehyung. No need for the dramatics.”

There was a deathly silence that settled in the room as the two sized each other up, words unspoken but still communicated. “I don’t know, hyung, maybe if you paid more attention to what Jimin gets up to when he’s not around you, then you would know.”

Jin’s mouth clicked shut with a clack before he narrowed his eyes but Yoongi stopped them before he retort. Arguing was pointless.  “Taehyung is right. I don’t know whether your uncle has anything to do with this, but it doesn’t hurt to ask. After the meeting with the council, it’s clear he isn’t in favour of whatever is happening between you two.”

Jin shot him a quick glance before nodding. The regent was guilty of something, and Yoongi figured it was probably this.

“I’ll do it,” Taehyung said.

“No.” This was Jin. “I’ll do it.”

“Taehyung should handle it, hyung. You are lying low remember? Continuing your duties as if nothing is wrong. You have an audience with some herders in an hour. You need to appear as if everything is under control.”

The tension was palpable as all three of them stared each other down. This was a mess and Yoongi couldn’t believe Jeongguk and Hoseok wanted to involve themselves further with whatever this was.

“Fine,” Jin breathed. “You talk to him but behave.” It was like chastising a child but Taehyung’s face was placid, unaffected by the warning.

He smirked. “Yes, Exalted.” He bowed dramatically and walked out of the room, clearly annoyed by something. Yoongi was tempted to go after him, but he had Jeongguk and Hoseok to worry about.

Hoseok and Jeongguk were out of the palace before Yoongi could convince them to rethink the circumstances. They had both always been noble, always willing to do the right thing, never mind protecting their own lives. Yoongi too knew it was the right thing to do, but something wasn’t sitting right with him. Yet, Jin was desperate, and so of course they had to help. It was never up to Yoongi anyway. Both Hoseok and Jeongguk had snuck out quietly, vanishing with only one of their own guards, in case any onlookers were responsible for whatever this was.

The Queen’s orchard had become somewhat of a sanctuary for Yoongi. The blossoming citrus trees and the beautiful flowers surrounding by birds. It was peaceful, and the rain had seized, the sun peeking through the clouds, a glimmer of hope for good things to come. It was almost sundown and Yoongi hadn’t had any time to speak to Taehyung yet. The younger had seemingly vanished from the palace and Yoongi’s mind was reeling.

Taehyung wasn’t a Kim, so who was he?

Yoongi had met the queen when they had visited the north. He remembered she was beautiful, but sad, never saying much. He remembered how Taehyung was glued to her side always, refusing to come out and play with the rest of the kids. Perhaps he always knew that she was all he had.

Yoongi had a world of questions and fear for Jeongguk and Hoseok gnawed at him slowly. He hated feeling helpless like this. There were soldiers along his border.

His mother had barely spoken in months.

Jeongguk and Hoseok were gone.

Then there was Taehyung. How good it had felt to be so lost in him, giving him a part of himself that Yoongi couldn’t really get back. He didn’t want it to matter. At the end of the day, it was just sex. Yet, it wasn’t, was it?  It hadn’t felt like it was just sex that morning either, the tired kissing too distracting to really fuck. It wasn’t just sex and that’s what scared Yoongi. How easily he had given Taehyung himself. How easy it was for Taehyung to ask for anything and Yoongi would do it.

Yoongi was afraid.

Afraid of what he felt…maybe a little afraid of Taehyung too.

 “The sole heir to the Min throne in the Kim palace and joining the council,” a voice came.

Yoongi looked up to find the governess of Gurye standing before him with a warm smile. It was the kind of smile only old people possess, maternal and caring. The lines on her face were etched with years of stress and conflict but her eyes somehow managed to maintain their warmth.

Yoongi stood, to bow but she waved him down. “I’m sorry for my rude tone yesterday, your grace.” She sighed, crossing her arms across her chest. “I suppose I was on edge. The governor of Suncheon was a dear friend of mine and his death has been—difficult to swallow. Who knows when it’ll be my turn?”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what to say. She seemed sincere but if he had learnt anything in the days he had spent here, sincerity in the palace was rarer than precious stones. “I’m sorry about your loss, governess,” he said.

She shrugged, giving him a tight smile. “I must say, I’m impressed. You have managed to do what your father couldn’t.”

Yoongi glanced her way curiously. “Earn the respect of a Kim.”

A laugh escaped him before he could really stop himself. “I don’t know if I really have his respect or he simply needs something from me, governess.”

The old woman laughed breezily. “Perhaps it’s the mixture of both?” she suggested. “Seokjin seems to know what he’s

doing. Whoever is behind this chaos has clearly underestimated him, haven’t they?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know him well enough to make that judgement, governess.”

She nodded, stepping closer to where Yoongi sat. “Of course,” she said. “However, I do worry about that servant of his. If there is a way for him to lose respect of a court—a palace, it’s by parading his servant as if they are husbands.”

Yoongi’s mouth went dry, eyes narrowing. Was the governess somehow responsible for Jimin’s disappearance? “I suppose that is why Jimin is no longer a servant, governess,” he said carefully.

The governess laughed loudly, finding Yoongi’s words particularly funny. “Indeed, your grace. Smart move from our Exalted. And yet, he will still need to produce an heir. In case you haven’t noticed, the servant is a boy.”

Yoongi was growing uncomfortable. He didn’t want to discuss who Jin decided to sleep with, much less with a member of the council. “I’d rather not talk about the Exalted’s private affairs. It’s none of my business.”

“Ah, but your grace, you are a part of our council now. These are the matters we must discuss.”

Yoongi doubted that was true. Either way, he was only in the council to make sure Jin held up his end of the bargain. The politics attached to it did not concern him. “Perhaps you should approach the Exalted in private then, governess.”

The old woman regarded Yoongi carefully, eyebrows slightly raised. “Do you also hold an affinity to men, your grace?”

Yoongi tried to keep a straight face, but he felt his ears heat up, mouth going dry as he remembered the night before with Taehyung. The pretty moans escaping his mouth against his ears.

“My only desire is to see my people’s land prosper, governess.”

The governess smiled slowly. “Diplomatic,” she murmured. “I must say, I am captivated by you, your grace.”

“I was not in search of your approval,” Yoongi’s words were short but she seemed endeared rather than offended.

“Of course,” she said, before taking a deep breath. “I hear for a seat on the council, you allowed Seokjin to line his troops along your border against Jeonju?”

Yoongi’s body seized as he analysed her placid face. “I was never a fan of the governor of Jeonju. Dirty old man with that power hungry monster Hye-Jin of  his.” She made a face. “I’m glad Seokjin is taking initiative without all the fanfare. His father was always immersed in the pomp.”

Yoongi didn’t want to tell her that Jeonju wasn’t necessarily the enemy here. They still didn’t know who or what they were up  against.

“I suppose we both wish the Exalted well then,” Yoongi said, ever the diplomat.

The governess was quiet for a moment, as if wanting to say more. “Of course, your grace.” She paused. “If you are ever looking for a wife; I have a beautiful daughter.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, governess,” Yoongi replied, voice level, sure that the governess’ daughter did not want to marry him.

She smiled, eyes warm that it almost seemed genuine, but Yoongi was smarter than that. “My apologies for not welcoming you into the council earlier, your grace. It is an honour to serve the Exalted alongside you.”

Yoongi stood and bowed before the old woman and she returned the gesture.  “Have a good evening, governess,” he murmured.

“The same to you, your grace.”

Taehyung didn’t like this. He didn’t like the uncertainty, the not-knowing who or what was behind this. He had his suspicions of course, but they were all becoming more and more unlikely as each hour passed. There were too many shifts, too many people and Taehyung hated it. The only way he had managed to stay alive all this time was by having everything under control. He held everyone’s secret, knew what everyone wanted, their darkest desires and dreams, including his own. Now, he knew nothing and it annoyed him.

No, he thought, it terrified him.

It terrified him to know that in a few days he had managed to lose himself so completely to someone who had come to murder his own brother and for some strange reason, it hadn’t bothered Taehyung. He had been so enthralled by Yoongi the moment he saw him walk in that morning. Yoongi was slight, and too pretty, cat-eyes constantly narrowed as if he was thinking very hard. He hadn’t looked like much of a threat and Taehyung had been determined to keep him under check. Keep him as far away from Jin, whilst he unravelled every single thread that led to a secret. Yet, without even trying, Yoongi had pulled him in and Taehyung was so absorbed. Last night, as he ran his hands all over Yoongi’s body and the elder begged him for more and more—it had been the final nail in Taehyung’s proverbial coffin. And just to confirm how ruined he was; Taehyung had offered up the one secret that could destroy him. One secret that could ruin Jin too, trusting Yoongi with everything he had. Yoongi would have never trusted him otherwise. It was stupid, but Taehyung wanted to earn Yoongi, prove to him somehow that he wasn’t what the palace thought him to be. He knew what the palace said about him. About what he could do. They weren’t wrong, but it wasn’t all he was. He wanted to feel something for someone else too. Maybe Yoongi…

Yet, wanting more had led to this mess in some ways.  His loyalties had all been mangled. He wanted to protect Yoongi from all of this, and the only way to do that was to make sure he didn’t get involved. Yet, to protect Jin, and now Jimin, somehow Yoongi had to be involved.

As Taehyung rounded the corner, to his uncle’s chambers, he took a deep breath. He had never been close to Yoo Chun, and honestly, he hated him. He was condescending and watchful, always doing what he could to advance his interests, never the throne’s, much less Jin’s. He had never failed to remind Taehyung how worthless he was. Taehyung knew his uncle had no idea he was a bastard but perhaps the man had always suspected. It would explain why he held such disdain for him.

The Regent’s chambers were on the west side of the palace. Now that most of the nobles and visitors had left after the coronation, the strange emptiness the lived in the hallways had settled once again.

Taehyung knew something was off as soon as he stepped into he large parlour with its expensive rugs with intricate patterns, imported from lands far away. The regent had always had a thing for all things expensive. Yet, the parlour along with the door that led to his bedroom was silent. There was no sign of life which made Taehyung pause. There was always some woman or man lying naked, waiting for Yoo Chun to come fuck them. But today, it was empty, wiped clean of all signs of life and fanfare that usually took place in here.

For a moment, he stood there, waiting and then in the doorway appeared a servant. Taehyung recognised him as Jaehyun. The man had served Jin for as long as he could remember. Taehyung also knew Jaehyun had very little business being in Yoo Chun’s chambers.

Jaehyun looked surprised, cheeks flushing when he spotted Taehyung, like a child caught stealing sugar from the kitchens. “Your grace!” he exclaimed loudly before bowing lowly and mumbling something that Taehyung couldn’t catch.

“Jaehyun-ssi,” Taehyung greeted carefully, watching the man as he stood up straight and avoided eye contact. “Have you seen my uncle?”

Jaehyun shook his head immediately but he was tense, definitely hiding something. Taehyung’s mind drifted to the knife hidden safely under his clothes. “N-no, your grace.”

The hesitation told Taehyung that the servant was lying. He took a step closer to Jaehyun who in turn backed away, like he was afraid of Taehyung. Perhaps he was. Taehyung flashed him a cutting smile. “Then why are you here unaccompanied, Jaehyun-ssi?”

Jaehyun’s eyes glinted, fear and regret flooding them. “I was simply making sure the regent had clean linens, your grace. You can’t really trust these new servants to do their jobs properly,” his slight chuckle was off, strangled and shaky.

Taehyung wasn’t in the mood for games. He tilted his head to the right slightly and Jaehyun took in a sharp breath, trying hard to keep himself calm, but the beads of sweat had already begun trailing down his forehead.

“Do you know Jimin is missing, Jaehyun-ssi?” Taehyung asked carefully.

Judging by Jaehyun’s reaction, the man did not know. He gasped, taking a staggered step back, hand over mouth. “No,” he murmured to himself. Taehyung arched an eyebrow, waiting for the man to continue. “No,” Jaehyun said again.

“What happened?” Taehyung asked.

The servant looked up at Taehyung, eyes apologetic, perhaps begging to be spared. “Your grace!” the man fell to his knees in a full bow. “Please do not kill me. I am begging you to spare my life! If you cannot, spare my family’s life.”

“What happened?” Taehyung asked again, voice hard.

He could feel it, the world finally crumbling down around him, around his family, around Jin.

“The regent only asked me to get him out of the palace undetected. He took everything and said I must not tell a soul.” His voice was breathy, fighting off the tears. “He paid me but you must understand, your grace. My daughter is sick! I had to do it. I had to do it.”

Taehyung’s mouth dried up. Yoo Chun had disappeared, just when Jimin had. There was no way this was a coincidence. “Did he say anything to you?”

Jaehyun shook his head violently. “No, no,” he murmured. “He simply said it was time a real king sat on the throne.”

Taehyung had stopped breathing and Jaehyun was still speaking but the words weren’t connecting. He should have known. He should have known his uncle would do something like this. But why had he taken Jimin? One final spiteful act?

“Did he say where he was going?” Taehyung cut the man off. “Was he with Jimin?”

Jaehyun was still on his knees, tears streaming down his face, eyes red and body shaking. Maybe Taehyung should have felt sympathetic but he didn’t. He felt his knife against him and his hand twitched. Anger coursed through him like fire burning in his veins.

“No, I led him out of the palace through the kitchens and then down to the city. I did not recognise the men who met him.”

Taehyung’s mind was working to connect the dots. Where did his uncle fit in all of this? This plan seemed to sophisticated for him and yet—yet he had managed to outsmart all of them.

“Your grace,” Jaehyun cried. “I beg of you, do not harm my family. I will take whatever punishment but please, please… My daughter—she’s so sick, your grace! Please...” Taehyung had never heard a man sound so desperate before, and perhaps he was supposed to care but he truly didn’t. The tears meant nothing to him. Perhaps it was callous and this side of him was what people feared. Why he thought his father despised him.

But no, that was simply because he was a bastard.

His hand twitched again, almost reaching for his knife but then something stopped him. He thought of Yoongi and what he would think and paused. “Find Jin and tell him everything.” Taehyung didn’t have to threaten him for Jaehyun to get to his feet and bow before him. “Thank you, your grace! Thank you!” And he bowed once more before rushing out of the room.

Taehyung took a deep breath, mind reeling.

He had to go to Yoongi.

Yoongi was sitting on one of the benches in his mother’s orchard, legs crossed. It was where he had kissed Taehyung and for a moment, Taehyung simply watch, wanting to savour the moment.

It didn’t last long though because Yoongi looked up at him and he almost smiled until he saw the look on Taehyung’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked carefully, sitting up.

Taehyung’s priorities had been skewed somewhere along the line. He knew he needed to be with Jin, planning for whatever was on its way. Yet, he just had to be with Yoongi, just had to make sure he was okay.

What was wrong? Taehyung wasn’t sure where to begin.

“My uncle is gone.”

Yoongi was quiet for a moment, brow furrowed in deep thought. “He’s behind this, isn’t he?”

Which ‘this’ did that refer to exactly? Jimin missing? The murders? Jeonju? Taehyung didn’t know but he was sure his uncle had played a part. And he couldn’t wait to see him dead.

“I think so,” Taehyung walked over to Yoongi as the elder made room for him. He sighed, looking out to the trees. “You need to leave tonight.”

Taehyung knew Yoongi was frowning but he didn’t turn to him. At the end of the day, it was his fault Yoongi was still in this godforsaken palace. He had roped Yoongi into all of this. Had dragged him down into his own personal hell and now everything was on fire.

“I can’t leave,” Yoongi sounded annoyed. “Hoseok and Jeongguk are out there—”

“You can meet them on the road, hyung. You need to go. This isn’t your fight.”

Yoongi was silent for a good minute. Taehyung couldn’t even feel him move. Then, “It is my fight now, isn’t it?” Yoongi bit out.  “Aren’t you the one who asked me to trust your brother? To ‘let it die?”

Yoongi was so obviously angry. Angry at the situation and Taehyung himself though Taehyung didn’t blame him. Yoongi was right. He had made it Yoongi’s fight. He had whispered so prettily the night before the coronation, had pulled Yoongi in so well, not realising he was ruining himself too.

Taehyung turned to him and he could see the raging fire in Yoongi’s eyes. It was strange. Taehyung had never assumed Yoongi to ever raise his voice, but it seemed he might in that moment.

Taehyung breathed. “I just want you to be safe, hyung.”

“I’ve said this before, but I was unsafe the moment I stepped into Yeosu, Taehyung. Now my family is out there trying to save yours.” Yoongi paused. “I’m not a simpering idiot. I want nothing to do with your fucked up family but I made a deal with Jin and I plan to see it through.”

Taehyung’s neck burned. The conversation had taken the wrong turn. This wasn’t what he wanted. He just wanted Yoongi safe. He had done this and he had to make up for it somehow. How had they gone from the morning in each other’s arms to this?
“I’m—” Taehyung couldn’t continue, lost for words. Did he apologise?

Yoongi shook his head. “What do you want from me exactly, Taehyung?  You told me a secret that could get you killed and for what? My trust?”

This was all so, so wrong.

“Is gaining my trust another means to an end? Something fucked up you’d like me to do?”

No, that wasn’t it. Was it? Taehyung was blanking.

“Hyung…” he breathed.

Yoongi stood suddenly, ears coloured red. “I suppose we need to tell, Jin-hyung this new information where he’ll inevitably need my help and I’ll do it because you want me to?”

Taehyung was looking at Yoongi and the elder looked so, so angry. He understood it though. Taehyung had done to him what he does best. Worm his way in until he was in control. But this wasn’t that anymore. In such a short time, Min Yoongi had wormed his way into him too and Taehyung was at his mercy. Yet, he couldn’t say anything.

So he said the only thing he was sure of instead. “I’m sorry, hyung.”

Yoongi let out a laugh. “I don’t blame you, Tae,” he said quietly. “I’d do the same in your position.”

In his position.

What a position it was.

“But don’t try and protect me like I’m something fragile that doesn’t understand.”

And with that, Yoongi began to walk away. For a moment, Taehyung stayed put in his mother’s garden and felt the knife on his side again. Perhaps it was wrong to think it, but it was true. He couldn’t wait to cut his uncle open and watch him bleed out.

Jimin was surprised he wasn’t dead. He woke up to a mind numbing headache, his limbs heavy and aching. The floor smelt of mouldy wood mixed with sea water. He tried to move, but his arms were bound by something rough. Jimin breathed, telling himself not to panic as he adjusted his eyes to a faint light coming into the room. His looked down at his wrists, bound by a rough rope and he had been stripped of his outer robe, now down to underclothes that revealed his now bruised and dirtied skin.

Jimin took another deep breath, waiting a moment to make sure no one else was in the room with him. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a woman laugh before another silence fell. There was also the distinct smell of tobacco and rice wine. Outside the door, he heard another shriek and then then giggle.

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered, the headache pulsing harder.  He tried to focus and listen to anything taking place outside the dark room he lay in but all he could hear were distant laughs and shrieks. Adjusting himself into an upright position on the floor, he looked to the door with light illuminating its edges. Luckily, his mouth wasn’t gagged, just his arms bound and whoever had done it had been sloppy. The rope wasn’t frayed and there hadn’t been much of an effort to keep him in place. Weakly, Jimin wriggled his hands, trying to escape the rough ties, head still pounding. Outside, he heard some movement and he momentarily paused, watching the door carefully and listening, but no one came in. A few moments later, his hands were free but his body still felt too weak to make any significant movement.

Groaning, Jimin tried to remember if he had seen any faces before he had passed out, but nothing came to mind. All he could remember was the rough voice telling him that this is how he’d die and then nothingness.

For a moment, he wanted to cry. His eyes stung and everything hurt. He wanted Jin. He had almost had him too. Last night he had been on his way to warn the regent about what he was about to do. He would tell Jin everything and the old man wouldn’t survive it. Perhaps it had been foolish of him to be courteous to a man who had done nothing but hurt him, yet Jimin had done it anyway.

Jimin had his suspicions about the man and he had even be warned. If he stepped out of line, he would be out of the palace quicker than he could blink. Jimin hadn’t listened. Instead, he had stood confidently next to Jin as if he belonged there. It was funny in a way. How had he deluded himself so well?  How had he allowed such a stupid dream to take over his mind and make him so, so stupid. Jimin let out a bitter laugh, but it came out as a sob instead. His eyes continued to sting and before he knew it, tears had formed and were slipping down his grimy cheeks.

Quietly, he heard the door creak as it slid open, only a tiny sliver that allowed golden light to pour through. He quickly brushed away his tears, ready to for whatever was to come next. Maybe whoever was responsible for this had finally come to kill him. He watched door, but no one appeared for a moment until a small head poked in and a little girl appeared. Adjusting his eyes to the sudden light, Jimin looked at her. She couldn’t have been more than eight, too small even then. Her eyes were too wide for her gaunt face, hair messily arranged and her dress hanging on her underfed body. Jimin’s breath caught and she flinched, staring at him, eyes still wide and unblinking as she clutched the ends of her sleeves tightly. It was a little stand-off as they gazed each other, her eyes wondering all over him before she finally took a tentative step into the room, careful to keep her distance and watching carefully.

“Hi,” Jimin said softly.

Her eyes darted to the door, contemplating her escape options. Jimin looked too and now that it was open, he could hear the distinct sounds of men and women laughing and—sex.

And then it hit him, he was in a brothel.

He turned back to the little girl, who still hadn’t moved. Jimin didn’t know what state he was in but he tried his best to smile as gently as possible at her. “What’s your name?” he asked, voice slightly rough from disuse.

Her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip, eyes searching his face and Jimin was scared that she would run, yet by some stroke of luck, she stayed in place. “I’m Jimin,” he continued. “But I don’t know where I am. Do you know what this place is?”

The girl was quiet for a moment then she nodded twice, careful as ever.  Jimin smiled warmly. Her eyes were so full of fear and he was afraid of all the things she had seen already in a place like this.

“Ppalgan Doshi…” she whispered, voice barely audible but Jimin recognised the name anyway. Ppalgan Doshi was one of the most famous brothels along a major trade road from the sear and into Yeosu. It was frequented by traders, soldiers, merchants anyone who was anyone and needed some relief after a long journey. It also wasn’t far from Yeosu, less than a few hours ride in fact. Jimin frowned. “Do you know who brought me here?”

Her head bobbed yes and Jimin wanted to ask who but he also didn’t want to push so instead he smiled and waited for her to offer up any information by her own accord. After what seemed like minutes, she finally spoke, voice incredibly soft. “You were sleeping and the tall men carried you in. They have been upstairs with Dani and Jye-Hi.”

Jimin figured whoever they were, they had been too desperate for a fuck before they could carry out whatever mission they had been given.

He turned back to the girl. “Were they wearing any uniform?” he asked gently.

She was quiet for a second before she shook her head. “I don’t…” She trailed as if she didn’t know which word to use.

Jimin smiled gently, but didn’t move in case he startled her. She was just a little girl surrounded by drunk men on a daily basis. The thought of it made his stomach churn with disgust. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

She watched him for a good minute, eyes wide and discerning like she was calculating something. “Eun-bi,” she murmured.

Jimin grinned. “Thank you, Eun-bi.” He paused. “Where’s your mum?”

Eun-bi’s bottom lip jutted out before she shrugged and clutched the ends of her sleeves once again. “’don’t have one. Father left me here.”

Jimin’s heart broke, the story all too familiar. His own father had sold him to the palace for a sack of coins and had barely spared him a glance as he was dragged away by heavy-handed guards. But he had been thirteen, old enough to know how to fend for himself to an extent. He had also been lucky enough to end up with Jin. Eun-bi was under ten and so, so small. A girl in a brothel full of predatory drunk men and women. Bile rose up in his throat.

“Can I ask you for something?” he said looking at her messy hair. It was done up together by a metal binyeo that looked sharp enough to stab through something. Eun-bi shrugged and Jimin tried to look as non-threatening as possible. “Can I borrow the thing in your hair?”

Eun-bi looked at him closely again, assessing whether he posed any danger. Jimin could tell she was smart, her eyes calculating.  Finally, she made a move to remove it and a dark and long thick flow of glossy hair fell. Clearly she had never been afforded the decency of a haircut. Gingerly, she walked towards him and handed the thin metal stick to him. She stood directly in front of him, staring into his eyes.

“Thank you,” he bowed his head.

Her eyes went wide but she made no attempt to move. Finally, she nodded stiffly. “You aren’t like the other ones who come in here,” she said after a moment. “They always try to touch me but I run away. I’m fast.” She said it with the hint of a smile, proud that she was quick enough to dart away when danger presented itself. Jimin almost sighed in relief knowing no one had harmed her and impressed that she was so discerning, able to spot danger so quickly.

“Yes,” he breathed. “You should always run away when someone tries to touch you without your permission. Understood?”

Eun-bi nodded enthusiastically.

Now that Jimin had something of a weapon, he could get out of here and go back to Jin. He looked at Eun-bi closely and gave her that gentle smile once again. “Okay,” he breathed. “I need you to go back outside and pretend you weren’t in here.”

Eun-bi nodded.

“Good. I’ll come find you later, okay?”

Another nod.

“Now, go,” he instructed and her little feet padded away, shutting the door softly behind her. Jimin leaned back against the wall, body still in pain, but he had to move if he was going to get out of here and back to the palace. He couldn’t worry about Jin right now or whoever was behind this.

He needed to get out first.

He debated staying there longer, to see if anyone would come find him, perhaps the men who had taken him in the first place. But he was growing impatient and the headache was only growing more incessant. Hauling himself off his feet and gripping the metal tightly in his hand, he made his way to the old rickety sliding door. He wanted to laugh once again. These men had clearly underestimated him or they were the biggest idiots. They had come to a brothel to get off before they completed whatever mission they had been instructed to carry out. Nonetheless, it had benefited him.

He slipped into a quiet wooden corridor. There was a strong scent of rose oil and amber. A loud shriek rang somewhere down the long hallway but Jimin ignored it. His body was still heavy from whatever he had been drugged with but at least there didn’t seem to be any permanent harm done on him.

He stuck to the shadows, careful to avoid any doors he could hear voices through. The distinct sounds of sex were behind each door and Jimin felt the goose bumps rise on his skin as he carefully moved on the floor board. Outside, night had fallen and Jimin was sure that the men would come and find him soon.

As he stumbled into what looked like living room, all plush cushions and expensive silks, he found a woman lying atop a royal purple settee couch, stark naked, all milk white skin and pretty curves. When she noticed him, she smirked, painted red mouth moving to the side, black rimmed eyes regarding him closely. “Aren’t you the one those soldiers dragged through the hallway in the early hours of this morning?” She asked lazily.

Jimin narrowed his eyes at her. She seemed comfortable in her nakedness, not minding that he was present. “Soldiers?” he inquired.

The woman ran a tongue against her bottom lip, watching him long enough that Jimin felt like he was the one who was naked.   “You’re beautiful,” she said matter-of-factly. “You could fetch good money here. I don’t think they want to sell you though. Mistress Shin already asked.”

Jimin looked at her carefully, wondering who ‘they’ were as she smirked at him. “I’m not on the job market, unfortunately.”

That made her laugh, her head falling back, but it sounded too airy—fake. “Hmm,” she murmured, turning back to him. “That’s unfortunate. The soldiers sounded quite disappointed that you were so out of it when they brought you in. They seemed very determined to have their way with you.”

Despite himself, Jimin shivered. He didn’t want to seem deterred in front of whoever this woman was but the idea of what could have happened was enough to make him want to vomit. Yet, he still had to find out who had brought him here. “Where are they?”

She shrugged. “Fucking some poor underlings, I suppose.”

Jimin glared at her. “You can do better than that.”

She tilted her head in question before she laughed. “Hm,” she hummed, sounding like she agreed. “Nothing is free here, especially in a place like this.” She gestured around the room. The statement reminded him so much of the palace. She would fit right in, he thought.

Jimin winced, his headache kicking up a notch. “I don’t have any money.” He was almost naked himself and filthy with bruises all over. What did this woman want exactly?

“I’m not interested in money.” She shrugged. “Don’t you belong to our precious Exalted?” she asked.

Jimin paused, regarding her closely, not sure if he should be honest. Yet, what could it hurt? He needed to get out of here and soon. “I suppose you could say that,” he replied.

That made her grin. “I’ll show you to them without anyone knowing if you promise to get me out of here in return.”

Her gaze was intense, her face full of emotion, finally open and Jimin’s heart broke. Slowly, he nodded, but she made no signs of moving. “Swear on it,” she said.

“I swear,” Jimin said, meaning it. She didn’t move for a while, simply watching and Jimin tried his hardest not to curl into himself as the headache pounded away in his head. Finally, she stood, her limbs unfolding gracefully, as if she were a dancer. She grabbed a robe slung over the settee before slipping it on and walking past him.

“They are upstairs,” she murmured and walked out into the panelled hallway. Jimin followed and was met by a few girls giggling as they passed by them but none of them batted an eyelash at Jimin. They had probably seen worse.

He followed behind the woman, his feet dragging and for a moment, Jimin thought he should probably not trust her so easily. He didn’t even know here name. Yet, why would she bargain her chance at freedom if this was a trap?

“Were they soldiers from Yeosu?” Jimin breathed, trying to keep the headache under control.

She stopped walking for a moment, genuinely confused by the question. “No,” she said. “Their colours weren’t from Yeosu.”

That made Jimin pause, but before he could open his mouth to reply, a door slid open and a burly man stepped out, adorned in the distinct shade of emerald green and black.

The colours of Gurye.

 Jimin took in a sharp breath.

“Shit,” the man grunted already reaching for Jimin. The woman yelped as he grabbed her first, trying to push her out of the way. Yet, before Jimin could really think too far, his arm had flown out and the stick he held in his hand had made contact, stabbing the man in the neck. There was a rush of activity, a loud scream from somewhere and a gurgling sound below him, but all Jimin could feel was the warm blood gushing onto his hand and then running down his arm. It was as if he was suspended in time when the second soldier surfaced, half naked asking what all the commotion was about.

When he spotted Jimin and the now dead man on the floor, he swore once again and launched at him, knocking him against the wall. By now, a crowd had gathered, watching one man bleed on the floor and another trying to strangle Jimin to death.

The man looked enraged, veins popping out as he squeezed tighter around Jimin’s neck. Jimin writhed, trying to move out of the death grip but the man was too strong. It was strange to think that he had made it so far and yet this is how he would die. In fucking Ppalgan Doshi. He had survived Yeosu. Had survived Yoo Chun, yet, he would die at the hands of a low tier soldier who had been too horny to carry out his orders.

“I should have killed you and thrown you into the river,” he muttered, squeezing. It was too difficult for Jimin to keep his eyes open, or to concentrate on his words.  “Stupid idiot wanted to fuck you first.” He squeezed tighter and Jimin felt a tear escape his eyes. “Your king is going to die and there is nothing you can do about it.” He squeezed again, knocking Jimin against the wall. Jimin could hear the shrieks behind them as he drifted, limbs loosening.  “Within two nights our troops will be in your city and your precious king will—”

There was a loud knock and suddenly there were no more hands on him and the man was crumbling to the floor. Then he heard another loud smack and a woman screaming. Jimin slipped onto the floor, coughing loudly as tears streamed down his cheeks. When the blurriness had finally cleared, he saw the robed woman, ornamental elephant in hand, now stained with violent red blood. She looked down at the man, her chest rising and falling rapidly as he lay still. For a moment, Jimin just stared at her, then his eyes moved to the gathered crowd.

Within two nights our troops will be in your city.

The words rang over and over in his mind as the crowd of half dressed women and men stared back at him like as if he were some  creature. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Jin had sent battalions to the north.

Jeonju was a decoy, he realised as the two soldiers lay on the floor, blood still oozing, life already drained from them. It was never Jeonju who was the threat. No, it had been Gurye all this time. Now they were marching on Yeosu.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

2 Nights Before

It didn’t add up. Yoongi knew they were missing something as the generals tried their best to explain how they had let this happen, how they had let the regent of the most powerful kingdoms slip through their fingers undetected. The eerie dark of the early night had settled on the palace, the candle light and torches the only thing to illuminate it. Yet, the activity outside was evident. Soldier prepared their amour and swords, guarded the city gates in preparation of a potential war.

Jin was murderous. He had only been on the throne for a few days and now he had a war on his hands, with no clue who the enemy was. Fire burnt in his eyes as he stared down the first battalion general, an old man dressed in his official garb, long sword stowed away by his side.

“Exalted, you must understand that your uncle has been nothing but loyal. Why would he commit such senseless murders?” An old council chief asked.

It was a good question. Why would the regent murder council members when he had been so adamant to appease them? Yoongi had been in the palace long enough to know that the regent was not sophisticated enough for a plan as grand as this. The intentional chaos was too telling.

“My uncle has never been in favour of my rule. He must have been more unhappy than I thought,” Jin murmured thoughtfully, his voice quiet, body knotted with tension.

Yoongi looked at the scene before him, high ranking military men, all ready to serve their king yet sceptical of going after the regent. It was alarming how uncertain of their new king they were. Taehyung looked on from the window, face pensive and it suddenly hit Yoongi once again—like an unexpected wave, flooding all his senses—that he couldn’t have Taehyung. As if sensing eyes on him, Taehyung turned to him and Yoongi sucked in a sharp breath, not breaking eye contact because fuck everything if he buckled for Taehyung.

Yet—he had. Hadn’t he?

“Which would mean he has an army backing him,” Taehyung said, eyes still on Yoongi.

Yoongi maintained the cool gaze as his mind spun. They were missing something. They had to be. It wasn’t Jeonju, he knew that. There had been no word of blood split along the border.

So who was it?

“Exalted, we have already sent a division up north to Jeonju on your orders and nothing has happened,” the general continued. “Do you think perhaps you have the wrong information?”

“He doesn’t,” Namjoon said.

The general turned to him. “What?”

“I said he doesn’t,” Namjoon stood. “Perhaps you should consider trusting your king, general”

The general looked as if he had been slapped. His mouth fell into a line as he gazed down. “Of course,” he muttered, “Forgive me, your grace.”

Yoongi’s mind was still spinning. Jeonju couldn’t attack now. They were completely surrounded by his men and Jin’s. Perhaps the initial plan had been to march from Jeonju, but Yoongi’s unlikely alliance with Jin had ruined that, so,  whoever was behind this had to form a new plan. They had to be close enough to the Kim family to know what was happening in the palace. To know about Seokjin and Jimin and when the council members would be travelling. Rich too. Rich enough to pay for Jeonju’s weapons.

The governor and the regent did not tick all of those boxes.

Who had enough access and wealth to get a loyal province to rebel and so openly too? Someone wealthy and unassuming…inconspicuous perhaps.

…someone wealthy and unassuming…

Then it hit Yoongi.

There was only one province wealthy enough for such an operation.

Only one person cunning enough and well versed in the game of politics.

His eyes widened as Taehyung looked at him carefully. “Oh no,” Yoongi breathed.

“Yoongi?” Jin said, eyes full of concern, eyebrows lifted. The entire room turned to him.

“I need you send a messenger to Geosan,” Yoongi said rapidly, thoughts already skipping ahead.

“Geosan is your family’s ally,” the general said tersely as if Yoongi was stupid. “What do they have to do with anything?”

Yoongi ignored him, turning to Jin, heart racing. “Yes, the Yoo family is loyal to mine, but they are the closest province to Yeosu.”

Geosan was a day’s ride out of Yeosu. If they hurried—

“Yoongi what is this about?” Jin asked softly.

Yoongi’s ears were ringing and somewhere along the line, he had forgotten how to breathe. “We knew it wasn’t Jeonju. We know someone else was pulling the strings and it can’t have been your uncle. It had to be someone else. Someone more powerful than Jeonju.” Across him, Taehyung’s eyes darkened a shade.

“Someone who knew exactly what was happening in the palace,” Jin said, catching on.

“No,” Namjoon said quietly, understanding exactly who they meant. “That’s impossible. She was our father’s ally.”

“Gurye,” Taehyung murmured.

Yoongi nodded, everything finally clicking into place. Everything had gone wrong when the old woman had arrived. She was powerful, her province historically loyal to the crown. Yet, she was a traditionalist. Her own daughter had said so. Perhaps she had hated the king before, but Jin’s ascension to the throne posed a threat to her views. Perhaps her visit to the palace had confirmed her concerns; Jimin being one of them.

“Check her chambers!” a general ordered the soldiers that stood in the room. There was a confused frenzy, soldiers rushing about, generals screaming orders, but Yoongi knew they were too late. She had vanished just as the regent had and she had even had time to taunt him in the process, appearing as a peacemaker in the orchard.

“It’s pointless, “ Yoongi said. “Gurye will probably march soon. I guess now we have to figure out whether she plans a full out attack or a peaceful coup.”

Jin’s face was white, completely drained of blood. The general had his hands flat on the table, fatigue all over his face. They had grossly miscalculated the situation, completely outsmarted.

Choi Soojung. Governess of Gurye. Conqueror of men.

And maybe if it had been a mere month ago, Yoongi would have sat back and smiled, lavishing in the destruction of Yeosu. Yet, looking at Jin, completely defeated without being given a chance, he felt his heart ache. Jin was breaking right in front of them and he didn’t have Jimin to calm him down. Once again, Yoongi looked at Taehyung, as if the younger’s face could offer some kind of answer but Taehyung looked just the way he felt.

Defeated.

But then again, Yoongi wasn’t about to let everything he had sacrificed go to waste in some stupid war for power between rich men and women, willing to sacrifice lives for their own gain. Yoongi needed Jin.

He was not going to let Choi Soojung take that away from him.

It was in the dead of the night that Hoseok returned to the palace with Jimin, a child and another woman in tow. As Yoongi hugged his best friend, in the palace entrance, surrounded by soldiers on guard, it hit him that Jeongguk was nowhere to be seen.

Yoongi took a tentative step back, heart in throat, already fearing the worst, but Hoseok quickly held his and smiled sadly. “He went to Geosan, hyung. The soldiers that took Jimin were from Gurye.” He breathed. “We think they—”

“Yeah, I figured it out,” Yoongi breathed.

Around them, in the grand entrance of the palace, Yoongi could see Jimin, wrapped up in Jin’s arms, breathing heavily, whispering quietly, assuring him that he was fine. He looked unharmed in the grand scheme of things, a few scratches on his arms and bruises around his neck as if he had been choked. Yoongi watched as Jin looked over him, eyes hard and inspecting, making sure the man he loved was safe and real, letting out a sigh of relief once he was sure.

Yoongi knew they would face the world once again tomorrow morning, wake up to its harsh reality.

“He went there alone?” Yoongi asked, already starting to worry, but he had to remind himself that Jeongguk was an adult. He could take care of himself. If there was anyone he could trust, it was him.

“Yeah,” Hoseok breathed. “He’s the one who thought of Geosan.”

Yoongi couldn’t help the wry smile on his face. “I thought of them too.”

“You think they’ll help?” Hoseok asked, looking around them, eyes tired and body weary.

Yoongi shrugged. Yeosu had never done anything for Geosan, but he hoped they would come because of him. Another province Jin would owe loyalty to.

“They almost killed Jimin,” Hoseok said quietly, like he couldn’t quite believe they were all still alive. “She’s out for blood, hyung.”

Yoongi nodded, understanding. “I know,” he whispered, hugging Hoseok again and praying to the gods that Jeongguk was alive. “I’m glad you’re okay, Seok.”

He felt Hoseok laugh against him. “Can’t die before I beat you in a knife fight, hyung.”

Yoongi laughed too and it was strange to laugh so genuinely in a moment such as this. “If Jeongguk hasn’t then you have no chance.”

“We’ll see,” Hoseok murmured against him and Yoongi smiled.

They would be okay.

***

Jimin didn’t know what time it was, but in the haze of physicians making sure he wasn’t harmed, and trying to make sure Eun-bi was safe along with Mi-Sun, the woman who had killed one of the soldiers, he hadn’t had much time to think about he felt.

Now, he sat in a bath that smelt vaguely of medicinal herbs mixed with orange and he couldn’t really think. Jin was somewhere next to him, kneeling on the floor, watching him closely. They had dismissed the servants a while ago, Jimin too weary of all the fussing an prodding. Slowly, he rose his head to face Jin’s tired face, etched with concern.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” Jimin asked quietly, realising he hadn’t seen the old man since his return.

Jin watched him for a moment and Jimin felt his breathing seize, suddenly feeling cold in the warm bath. “He helped my uncle run.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. Oddly enough, he wasn’t surprised. The regent had a way of forcing himself onto people, driving them to do things they had no business doing. “Did you kill him?”

“No, but he has been arrested.”

A wave of relief ran through Jimin’s body, feeling himself sag into the warm water again, the tension dissipating. “His daughter is sick.” Jimin didn’t know if that excused Jaehyun, but he knew what loyalty and love felt like. He knew what he would do for Jin—who he could betray for him.

“I know,” Jin murmured, running his thumb against Jimin’s cheek. “He won’t die.”

Jimin nodded. That had to be enough. “Good.”

They fell into another long silence, Jin watching him, trying to figure out whether he was real. Before Jimin had had been taken, he had been determined to tell Jin everything, yet so much was at stake now. It was no longer just about them.

“Did they hurt you?” Jin asked softly after a while, voice strangled, and Jimin could feel the tension radiating off him. The Regent had escaped death this time, but he wouldn’t escape it a second time.

“No,” Jimin murmured, pausing for a second as he shifted to face Jin fully. “But I should tell you something,” he breathed, turning to look at Jin, “Something about me.”

Herbs and citrus floated in the air, the candles dying down, leaving the room dim. Jimin held his breath, watching Jin with careful eyes, hoping that at the end of it, they would be okay.

Taking a deep breath, he began, telling Jin everything he had done, the men and women he had stolen secrets from just by a simple touch, a light kiss. How easy it had been to do so and how he would willingly do it again if it gave Jin the throne. How he would always do it. In every life until the last.

“Your uncle,” he finally said, swallowing thickly. “Wanted to—”

“No,” Jin said, voice hard, eyes full of an unmistakable pain and Jimin could have cried if he didn’t feel so numb to it. He held Jin’s gaze and luckily, Jin held his too, no shame on his face, just sympathy.

“He wanted to try me out. See what all the fuss was about,” he continued, ignoring the fire in Jin’s eyes and pushing on. Jin had to hear this. He had to tell him if they were ever going to be together. “I let him each time because he threatened he would take me away if I didn’t.”

“Jimin-ah…” Jin trailed, eyes filled with tears.

Jimin smiled, pushing a wet hand through Jin’s hair, tears staining his own cheeks. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “I’m okay.” Another shaky breath escaped his lungs. “So when I finally refused to convince you about a wife, I guess he decided it was enough. I think he convinced the governess to take me away and kill me, or maybe use me as leverage.” Jimin huffed out a laugh, “But they were too preoccupied with wetting their dicks to finish the job.”

“I’ll kill him,” Jin said evenly. “I’ll kill all of them.”

Jimin smiled knowingly. “I know.”

He wished the burden of secrets had been lifted yet it hadn’t. He still held Taehyung’s secret, but he also knew it not his to tell. For Jimin, it didn’t matter who Seokjin’s family was. To him, he was simply Jin, kind and loving. That secret could die with Taehyung for all Jimin cared. The possibility of Jin not being a Kim was almost a good thing. It meant evil did not run through him.

Never mind the noise and the chaos around them, never mind Gurye and its troops marching towards them to carry out one final blow on Yeosu.  For a while, Jimin wanted to be selfish, to have what he had always wanted so badly. Carefully, in the cooling water, he leaned into Jin and brushed his lips against his, and Jin closed his eyes sighing, his body relaxing as if that’s all he needed to calm him down.

“You’re tired,” he breathed. “You need rest.”

Jimin shook his head, connecting their lips tentatively. “No,” he whispered against Jin’s mouth. “Need you.”

“Jimin…” Jin sighed as Jimin trailed kisses on his jaw, moving in the bath, water sloshing around him, to kneel over and get better access to Jin.

“No,” Jimin said. “This is what I want.”

And it seemed that was what Jin wanted too. Jimin felt himself being lifted out of the bath, his legs instinctively wrapping around Jin, grinding his hips down, not caring about the water all over Jin.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Jin said, looking in Jimin’s eyes.

Jimin squirmed in Jin’s hold.

“You didn’t.” He kissed him slow, lavishing the feeling of Jin’s mouth against his, the taste of citrus and mint, the swirl of tongues, the aching tension between them. “You won’t.”

It was a stupid promise to make given the eminence of war but Jimin felt invincible in Jin’s arms.

“You sure you want to do this?” Jin asked breathlessly, coaxing a groan from Jimin. He could feel the beginnings of an ache in his lower belly.

“Yes,” he said, knowing how desperate he sounded. “Fuck me like you missed me.”

At those simple words, Jin’s eyes darkened, Jimin continuing to squirm and then he was on the bed, looking up at Jin’s dark eyes, assessing his naked body with appreciation. Jimin wanted to put on a show, intoxicated by Jin’s gaze, desire mixed with adoration.

He knelt between Jimin’s thighs and pulled him up to his lips and he immersed himself in it all as Jin’s tongue had its way with his mouth. He sighed out a quiet moan when Jin palmed his ass, gripping tightly, dragging him to his knee until he was flush against it and without command rutting rather pathetically

“You make such pretty sounds, baby,” Jin said against his ear before teeth bit on his lobe lightly. Jimin moaned louder in response, Jin sucking on his neck, marking him up. He was lost in all of it, everything that Jin was, he had always been so lost.

“Want you, please,” Jimin whined, growing impatient of the kissing, slipping Jin’s clothes off. “Want you to touch me.” He moved back to looked at Jin’s bare chest, the broad shoulders, and the taut contours of his torso, how much he wanted to mark it all up, claim him as his. How lovely to know he had the king of Yeosu completely at his mercy.

Jin’s tongue ran past his bottom lip, smirking knowingly. “Patience, Jimin-ah,” he said evenly, sounding unaffected by everything.

Jimin had been patient for the five years plus. He didn’t care enough to ease into this. He pounced, latching his lips to Jin’s, hand running down his chest and to his already hardened cock. Jin hissed against his mouth and Jimin grinned.

“How long have you wanted me, Jin?” Jimin asked harshly, throwing honorifics out of the window and licking down Jin’s neck down to his beautiful chest. He stared up at Jin. “How long have you wanted me like this? Desperate for you?”

And that did it.

Jin pushed Jimin back and he landed on the bed softly, breathing heavily, chest rising up and down beautifully. “You have no idea what I’ve thought of doing to you, Jimin-ah.” He loomed over Jimin, trapping him with his arms. “How many times I’ve watched you and thought about making you cry for me.” He was looking at him so seriously, Jimin swallowed but he was undeterred. He swallowed.

“So do it. Make me cry.”

Above him, Jin grinned wolfishly and there was really no time for romance after that. Jin trailed slow kisses down his stomach, taking his time and lifting his head to watch Jimin whine for him. “That’s it, baby,” Jin murmured before he took Jimin into his mouth slowly.

Fingers dug into the silk and cotton, his back arching as he let out a hiss, already too sensitive and Jimin heard him say the word ‘please’ enough that it sounded like an ancient prayer, Jin humming and whispering praises against his bare thighs. He barely registered when Jin reached for oil, and kissed him lightly.

“Open yourself up for me. Wanna watch,” he instructed.

Jimin stared up at Jin, mouth raw from being kissed, tears on his lashes. The thought of Jin watching made him twitch in anticipation. He nodded quickly, unable to locate the right word in his mind and allowed Jin to slick his fingers until they were dripping.

It was truly a sight to see when Jin leaned back and watched him, eyes hooded filled with lust. Jimin wanted to be good. Wanted to put on the best show Jin had ever seen, so he did, fingering himself open, little moans escaping his mouth and Jin watched carefully, eyes incredibly level, the only telling sign his own hand on his cock, gently moving.

“Jin,” he sighed out as he scissored himself open.

“Another,” Jin instructed, levelly. “You can take it.”

And Jimin knew he could but Jin telling him to drove him to the edge, the third finger almost hitting him there and the anticipation and frustration knotting his belly.

“Please, please…” Jimin breathed, continuing the slow motions, watching Jin before him wanting nothing more than to be full. “I want y-you to…”

He didn’t get to finish because Jin’s lips had found his again and dragged him onto his lap.

“Take it,” he whispered and Jimin was all too willing as Jin filled him up slowly then all at once. “Be good for me.”

Jimin gazed right into Jin’s eyes, sin and love all mixed together, creating something terribly intoxicating. “I love you,” he whispered. “I do.” And he meant it completely.

Jin nodded, suddenly sober. “I love you too, Jimin-ah.”

Then Jimin moved and so did the moment of tenderness, riding Jin as curses left his mouth and onto Jimin’s skin. Jimin was lost in the euphoria, the pressure building, the sting just enough. As he moved, he vaguely registered Jin taking his cock in hand, already leaking and stroking lightly. Jimin saw white, his thighs straining and trembling. Jin stroked relentlessly and Jimin focused on moving himself, moaning loudly, not caring who heard. “J-jin,” he cried, the pressure too much. “G-gonna—”

He didn’t get to finish, already beginning to spill in Jin’s hand, unable to move as the orgasm racked through him and then he was on his back so suddenly, the sensations all too much to register.

“Gonna fuck you til you cry, Min,” Jin breathed on top of him.

Jimin was too lost, but he nodded yes. This is what he wanted and he could feel himself getting soft as Jin fucked him quick and hard the overstimulation too much. Saliva dribbled down his chin, but he took Jin’s thrusts, not minding one bit that somewhere along the line he had begun to cry.

He wanted to be good.

“Fuck,” Jin groaned as he stilled and leaned down to kiss Jimin. It was barely a kiss, their mouths just connected, too blissed out to really move much.

It was only after good moment that either of them moved. Jimin vaguely registered the come on his belly and the sweat but he just wanted Jin. “Was I good?” he asked quietly in the candle lit room.

Against his neck, Jin nodded. “Of course,” he placed a gentle kiss on his skin. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

                                                                        ***

Somewhere on the road to Yeosu, the governess of Gurye met the regent of with open arms. The man had served his purpose well and he would be rewarded justly. Jeonju had been disappointing but the regent had come in to save the day.

Really, Seokjin had almost blindsided her, but she was seasoned in the game of politics and he simply wasn’t.  Everyone always wanted something. The regent had wanted power and she had been able to give it to him.

Looking out into the night sky, she thought of how she would conquer Yeosu. It had been a dream of hers to one day be queen and the death of the king had been the perfect moment to pounce. Seokjin was weak, blinded by love for a poor servant and his brothers offered no reprieve either. One too immersed in his studies, the other a budding murderer. How exactly did they plan to rule such a precious kingdom? How would it grow if they allowed men to marry men and women to marry women?  The governess had been planning this for years, and she was determined to see it through.

Jeonju had almost ruined her plans, the governor too loose lipped and horny to get anything of substance done. Men and their inability to think.

She thought of the Min boy and their conversation in the orchard and smiled. The regent had told her all about the Min family. How their king had died, the bitter rivalry. The Min heir surely hated the Kims and that simple seed was all she needed. He was the final piece in her puzzle. He would take the bait, give into greed and temptation. He held no blind loyalty to the Kims and Seokjin couldn’t trust him fully.

Not when she could offer him exactly what he wanted; Seokjin’s head on a platter and the rise of the north.

She sipped on her wine and waited. The final play was in motion.

She wasn’t going to lose.

                                                                        ***

Yoongi wasn’t surprised to see Taehyung. If anything, he only felt helplessness. Hoseok had gone to bed but he couldn’t, too worried about Jeongguk to shut his eyes. His mother and uncle would have his head if something happened to his cousin and Yoongi couldn’t help but feel this was all his fault.

If they had just left.

If he hadn’t been so greedy.

Yet ifs weren’t going to change much. All he could do was wait.

So, when he looked at Taehyung, standing opposite him, still pretty despite his tired eyes, he wasn’t sure what to say. He waited, saying nothing.

“I’m glad Hoseok is safe,” Taehyung began. “I’m sure Jeongguk will be too.”

Yoongi looked at him, and couldn’t think of anything to say except for, “Thanks.”

It shouldn’t have felt so tense, but Yoongi’s outburst earlier had left a strange wedge between them. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he wanted to fix it.

“Hyung,” Taehyung said breathlessly.

“Why would you tell me your secret, Taehyung?” Yoongi asked suddenly, even he didn’t know where that had come from. “I keep trying to figure it out but it doesn’t make sense.”

Taehyung was quiet for a moment, thinking of the right words to say no doubt. “Because, you could ruin me—us with it and I’m trusting you not to.”

Yoongi let out a breathy laugh. How he felt made no sense. How much he was willing to give made no sense. “Aren’t you afraid that you have put too much trust in me?”

Because Yoongi was afraid. He was afraid of what that secret meant.

Taehyung arched an eyebrow, challenging Yoongi as he always seemed to do and Yoongi plunged back into the memory of the night before, of how it had felt to have Taehyung fully.

“Have I?” Taehyung asked curiously.

Yoongi’s cheeks flushed, but he held his ground, chin lifted.

“Maybe your suspicions of me are correct, hyung. Maybe I did tell you just to have my way with you.”

Yoongi flinched at the idea. Taehyung’s eyes flashed and it felt as if the wind had been knocked out of his chest. He kept his mouth shut though, telling himself not to feel anything. Taehyung was just trying to get a reaction out of him, yet the idea of it still hurt. His heart lodged in his throat and Taehyung watched him carefully, eyes searching for answers that his face was surely giving away. “See,” he breathed softly. “You do care and this matters, hyung.”

“I barely know you,” Yoongi deadpanned. It was true. After today, Yoongi was right to be weary. To be cautious, despite the fact that Taehyung made his stomach knot. His eyes drowned him and he had been so well consumed last night.

Taehyung was unmoved, gazing at him lazily. “So?”

So… why was he falling so fast?

So…what did Taehyung want with him?

It felt as if they were going round in circles. Yoongi could barely keep up anymore and he was so, so tired. “Even if I do care, nothing can ever come of this.”

Perhaps Yoongi could put aside their history for his family but he couldn’t have Taehyung. Not in the way he wanted. Yoongi couldn’t let himself have that. Not when so much was on the line.

“Yoongi,” Taehyung said evenly and Yoongi shivered, his name on Taehyung’s tongue too intimate.

“You should leave,” Yoongi said slowly, trying to convince himself that this was for the best.

Taehyung inched forward but Yoongi held his ground, chin up, staring down Taehyung. The younger’s eyes flashed and Yoongi almost backed away, finally what the palace said of the youngest Kim.

They gazed at each other for a moment. Yoongi could hear himself breathe, could feel his own pulse racing.

Then Taehyung smiled, his head tilting to the side in that curious gaze. “I don’t know whether you’re smart or not, hyung,” he said. “On one hand you could be playing all of us right now and getting what you want. My secret along with it.”

This was wrong. Yoongi knew that. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Yet, he held his ground, calmly gazing at Taehyung. “And on the other hand?”

The same smile was still on Taehyung’s lips, not reaching his eyes and Yoongi shivered. “You could really be on our side.”

Yoongi knew he had to be careful with his own words but he could feel the anger bubble up inside him and he couldn’t even understand why. “On one hand you might not keep your promise and have me murdered. On the other hand, you could really be on my side.”

Taehyung was quiet, watching Yoongi carefully, eyes unreadable. Yoongi didn’t want it to go like this. It was wrong but none of the words were stringing together in the right way.  

“You wouldn’t betray Jin,” Taehyung said knowingly, voice suddenly soft and Yoongi almost gave in. Almost melted in his arms and surrendered whatever semblance of sanity left in him.

“I wouldn’t,” Yoongi agreed. “But how far would you go for Jin? If Jin wanted me dead you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

Taehyung said nothing, seemingly taken aback for the first time. Yoongi didn’t have much time to revel in it as his stomach twisted.

“You’ll never trust me, will you?” Taehyung said, resigned to the fact then he smiled sadly. “And I’m afraid of what that might mean for my family and I.”

Yoongi just wanted to prove a point. Show Taehyung that they couldn’t build anything off this. There were too many secrets, too many strategies. Taehyung couldn’t just use him. Yoongi wanted to say it, but he opened his mouth and asked what he already knew the answer to. “Should I be afraid then, your grace?”

Taehyung’s lips twitched. “For the first time in a while, I truly don’t know, hyung.”

Yoongi swallowed and nodded. Tears stung the corners of his eyes. But he had done this.

“Goodnight, Tae,” he breathed.

Taehyung nodded before bowing. “Your grace.”

And as soon as the door clicked shut, Yoongi felt the first tear trail down his cheek, hands shaking and body shivering as if he had lost someone, and he didn’t even know when he finally drifted off to sleep.

The sun hadn’t come up fully in when Yoongi cracked his eyes open. It was as if someone had shaken him awake and immediately disappeared. In the haze of sleep and fatigue, he looked around the lavish room, body cold despite the summer. He wasn’t sure it was but something seemed wrong as he stepped out of bed for a drink.

It was only when he looked at the door that his stomach dropped. On the floor was a white paper, sealed in emerald green wax. Yoongi knew what it said before he opened it and when he did, he swallowed, an end presenting itself in the form of opportunity.

Your grace…

I am sure you have come to that point where you have begun to question your loyalties. That palace does instil distrust in all of us, does it not? Yet, I am writing this letter to tell you to do what you believe is right. Naturally, I do not know your heart, however I do know your history. I know the suffering your family and your people have had to endure. From our conversation in the orchard, I knew you were conflicted. Do you stand with the people who murdered your own. Fight a war that is not yours? Or do you do what you initially came to Yeosu to do?

Of course I understand your hesitation concerning the latter, however, I would like to let you know that Yeosu will fall. Many provinces stand with me and many more will once they realise the fall of family that has terrorised their homes.

I would also like to let you know that Seokjin intends to make the north a tributary. You have already allowed his troops into your home, what do you think is next? Your grace, I beg of you to think of the men you are dealing with. Seokjin is a product of his forefathers. Murderers. Rapists. He will not hesitate to continue their legacy.

Therefore, if you still wish to carry out your desires, I would not fault you.

I will be in Yeosu in two sunsets. What I hope to find, is you, free of the Kims, free of guilt and regret. I can guarantee you that I would not hold it against you and would let you return to your home to do with it as you wish.

Yours,

Choi Soojung

Yoongi stared at the parchment for a long while, heart racing, the implications of the note much too obvious. He had no reason to trust the governess yet she was right in a way. At this rate, Yeosu would lose to her. They were grossly unprepared and there was no guarantee Jin would keep his promise to the north. He breathed, crumpling the paper and burying his face in his hands. There wasn’t much of a decision to make, but it was risky and he could lose everything. In his trunk lay his father’s daggers. His daggers.

He stared at them for a moment, breathing heavily, fully awake now.

If you still wish to carry out your desire, I would not fault you.

It clicked, what he truly desired was right in front of him and so within reach. An ending finally in sight as he ran a hand against the hilt. He had been so angry he couldn’t have what he wanted, but here was the opening. Here was a way he got everything he wanted.

He picked them up and breathed. It was finally time to use them.

It was the middle of the afternoon, cool after a heavy summer rain. The governess and her army were nearing Yeosu. In reality, she did not need many men, confident that the blood that needed to be spilled had already been spilt.

And right on cue, a soldier arrived in front of her open carriage, eyes alert as he bowed.  “The spy has news, governess,” he announced.

The governess arched a curious eyebrow as a young boy with mud smeared all over his face

“Governess!” He bowed lowly. “It’s the king,” the man breathed. “He’s dead.” He breathed once again. “Seokjin is dead.”

The governess was surprised for a moment before she grinned. Min Yoongi had done exactly what she wanted him to do. She leaned back, enjoying the sun that had begun to peak out after the rain. What an idiot, she mused, he too would be dead by dawn.

Chapter Text

Florence & The Machine –  Seven Devils

The Weeknd, Sza, Travis Scott – Power is Power

A loud gong rang through the city of Yeosu in the early of the afternoon, alerting its residents. There was a stunned silence before all hell broke loose, whispers turning to shouts and cries turning into wails. The last time they had heard that loud vibrating gong was only a year ago, when their king had finally met his maker. Then, it had almost been a welcome sound, a quiet sigh of relief passing amongst them. Yet now, there was a feeling of disbelief as soldiers descended into the city, instructing everyone to return to their homes with a promise of more news soon.

But they all knew what that sound meant.

The king was dead.

“What if it’s a trap, governess?” Kim Yoo Chun asked quietly, hearing the definite sound of the announcement in Yeosu. The loud gong carried on for miles, and the regent along with the governess were close enough to hear it. The announcement of Seokjin’s death.  

“What if the bastard’s not really dead?” They were gaining in on Yeosu and would be at the gates soon. Her battalions would hang back as she preferred to spill as little blood as possible today. She needed the people of Yeosu to trust her. She couldn’t be seen as just another tyrant. No, she had to be their mother, nurture them until they trusted her fully.

Today, her goal was to get the keys to the castle. If Seokjin was truly dead then it would be easier than she had initially expected. It seemed placing her hopes in the Min boy had paid off.

If this was indeed a trap as the regent suspected it to be, then she would carry out her second plan. The regent had already offered exciting information. First, he had told her all about Yoongi’s father’s death, which she had subsequently informed Jeonju about.

Her face twisted unpleasantly. Jeonju had been an irreversible mistake on her part.

However, the Regent had another interesting bit of information concerning the oldest and the youngest Kim. It didn’t matter whether it was true or not. The suggestion of it was enough. If whispered to the right people, Seokjin’s demise along with his brother’s would be faster than he could scramble up a plan.

“Don’t worry too much, Regent,” She said casually. “Even if your nephew was somehow smart enough for something like that, we’ll be ready for him.”

Next to her, the governor gritted his teeth. “Forgive me, governess, but you must understand that my nephews are nothing like what they appear to be.”

There was a strange fear in the regent’s eyes, the governess noted and it was concerning. It was one thing for the regent to be cautious, but to be afraid? She pursed her lips and looked ahead at the palace on the hill.

How fearsome could three silver spoon princes be?

Namjoon watched over the balcony at the inky grey clouds and the city below him. He couldn’t believe they were really doing this, that this was possibly how it would end. The end of he Kim dynasty. There was a strange calm within the palace. Servants refilled the censers, cleaned the linens and floors, fed the horses and replaced the fruit, carrying on as if they weren’t all on the brink.

Doing this was a massive gamble. There was no guarantee that the governess wouldn’t come into Yeosu with her full army and slaughter everyone who got in their way. There was no guarantee that she would opt for negotiation before blood was spilt. Namjoon didn’t like their odds at all and he had always been a man who worked with logic.

It was strange that he was technically a king now. For all his life, he had always been in Seokjin’s shadow, the heir apparent. He was simply a spare, so he had spent his time educating himself, learning all about the world, kingdoms that existed elsewhere, from travellers and merchants. Namjoon’s dream had always been to see it all; not this. Not standing here, waiting for the end.

And he had always known. Or at least suspected that either him or his brothers were not their father’s child. There was something about Jin and Taehyung, a streak they seemed to possess that was unlike their father’s and unlike their mother’s either. They knew kindness yet could change with the snap of a finger. Namjoon did not possess the ability to switch so easily, to shed his own skin like a snake and strike so mercilessly, yet somehow their father had always preferred him. Where he was strict with Jin and dismissive, sometimes downright horrible to Taehyung, he was soft with Namjoon, teaching him all he knew about the world and all its marvels. They had shared an affinity for butterflies.

In any other case it would have driven a wedge between him and his brothers, but they had somehow managed to survive it. Survive their parent’s infidelity and remain loyal to each other.

Namjoon sighed, remembering the night before Jin’s coronation. He had not told neither Taehyung nor Jin about it, but their uncle had whispered pretty things that night, telling him how he was the one and true king of Yeosu. For a night, Namjoon had been tempted, tempted by the crown and the power that came with being the king. Yoo Chun had been so convincing too, Namjoon had almost fallen into the trap.

Almost.

And then he remembered, his brothers came before anything else and so did keeping them safe. He could never be a king, knowing he did not possess the temperament for it.

But, he had been tempted and now, he was simply too embarrassed to tell anyone.

Loyalty and perhaps guilt was why Namjoon was standing there now. He had never been a fighter, had never spilt blood but he feared today might be the end of that all.

Yoongi was sure though. Yoongi knew this would work.

Namjoon had to trust that. He didn’t have other options.

“Your grace,” a soldier appeared behind him. “They have entered the city gates.”

Namjoon didn’t need to ask who they were. “How many?” he asked quietly.

The soldier pursed his lips. “So far, only her company. The regent was spotted alongside her, perhaps a company of twenty.”

Namjoon let out a silent breath of relief. Twenty. They could work with twenty.

“And the rest?” Namjoon asked tentatively, dreading the numbers he would surely have to hear. The soldier’s eyes fell to the ground as if inspecting his boots.

“More than we anticipated, your grace,” he murmured.

Namjoon breathed uneasily. Hopefully Geosan agreed and stifled whatever advance she had planned if things went south, but his grandfather and his father had done nothing for that province. They would have no reason to trust his family, maybe Yoongi and Jeongguk but really, Namjoon wasn’t going to bank on them. It was simply too risky.

They had to hope plan A went forward without a hitch.

Yet hope in a place like this was such a fickle thing.

“How do you wish to proceed, your grace?” the soldier asked from behind him. Namjoon swallowed and clenched a fist.

“Welcome them into the palace,” he said, voice level.

The soldier was quiet, no doubt questioning whether this was their best option, but after a moment, he simply nodded and bowed. “Of course, your grace.”

Namjoon took a deep breath. Today, he was the king of Yeosu. Time to act like it.

The governess did not come to the palace. Instead, it was Kim Yoo Chun surround by soldiers in black and green. In the room, Jimin stood behind Namjoon, eyes bloodshot, tiredness marring his features. Taehyung too sat in the room along with their generals.

Yoo Chun grinned across the table, confidence radiating off him. “Where is your precious, Master, servant?” He jutted his chin out at Jimin.

Next to Namjoon, Jimin sniffled and looked to the floor, not answering.

“I hear you sounded the bells? That tramp Min boy finally killed Seokjin?”

Namjoon had never thought a man could look so triumphant in someone’s death. It made his skin crawl.

“Where is he, hm? I’d like to shake his hand. He did what you could have never done, Joonie.”

Namjoon could feel the anger permeating off Jimin’s body. “Why won’t any of you answer me?” he shouted loudly, the sound echoing through the room before he began to laugh loudly, the idea of victory finally settling within him.

“I’m just saddened that he never got to know how well I fucked you, Jimin-ah. Remember that, hm? When I had you on your knees for hours?” He looked directly at Jimin, taunting and baiting. Jimin’s body was wound up with tension and Namjoon feared he might snap. Namjoon carefully looked at Jimin and saw a tear trail down his cheek.

He swallowed, it was time to end this.

“What does she want?” Namjoon asked.

Yoo Chun turned to him carefully and leaned back. “Why not ask me what I want?”

“We all know you’re her bitch, uncle. It doesn’t matter what you want. No one ever cared in this palace and no one will care in hers, Let’s not play anymore games,” Taehyung spat from across the room.

Yoo Chun arched a careful eyebrow before huffing out a laugh. “Always so charming, Taehyungie.”

He was silent for a moment before leaning forward once again and breathing loudly. “Hand over the crown, and everyone will be spared. Don’t and we will overrun the city. Perhaps your army is stronger but there will be enough dead people for your own people to ask you to vacate the throne.” He smiled smugly. “Never mind the fact that you could potentially be a bastard since you had a whore for a mother.”

Across the room, Taehyung was ready to commit murder, but they had to be patient. They had anticipated the regent’s taunting and insults after all.

“Excuse me, Regent,” a general cleared their throat. “You must be mindful that those people in the city are your people too. They would never trust you if you brought any harm to them.”

The regent considered him for a moment before laughing. “This wouldn’t be on my head nor the governess’s. It would be on the power hungry men that have occupied this palace for centuries!”

“When you mention those men, you include yourself too,” Jimin muttered.

Yoo Chun’s eyes flashed. “Aw, Jimin-ah,” he murmured. “All your hard work to keep Jin alive has gone to waste--”

“We’ll do as you wish as long as you do not harm the people,” Namjoon offered calmly, stopping the man from spouting more insults at Jimin.

At that, Yoo Chun grinned. “I can’t help but think this is too easy, Joon-ah,” he mused. “I think I’d like to see the body.”

Next to him, Jimin sucked in a sharp breath. “I’m not letting you anywhere near him. You disgusting rat!” It was less of a shout but more of a screech and Jimin’s eyes were now full of tears, lips trembling.

“And yet you still let a disgusting rat fuck you, Jimin-ah. What does that say about you then?”

Jimin almost launched across the table, but Taehyung stood, walking over to him and holding his shoulders to calm him down. Namjoon nodded at them and Taehyung led Jimin out of the room, guards trailing them.

Namjoon kept his face level. This was to be expected. “I’m afraid Jin is—” Namjoon faltered, swallowing. “His body is with the high priestess.”

Yoo Chun shrugged. “I have time.” He leaned back once again and gazed at Namjoon, victory in his eyes.

“Perhaps you should send word to your governess then? The high priestess will be a while and I would rather get this over and done with.”

Yoo Chun laughed, like something was funny but nodded at one of his cronies anyway. They bowed before him and headed for the door to inform the governess wherever she was hiding.

Namjoon let out a quiet sigh.

Phase One: Complete.

His plan had three phases. Yoongi looked at Jimin and Taehyung who had joined him in the sun lounge on the west side of the palace. Jimin’s eyes were red, lips bitten raw and body still shaking.

It was clear he wasn’t pretending. Everything he felt was real and the idea of losing Seokjin was destroying him.

“The regent wants to see Jin’s body,” Taehyung said, looking right into Yoongi’s eyes. Despite everything, Yoongi still felt himself flush.

“Good,” Yoongi murmured.

They had been right to think the governess wouldn’t show up first. She would send the regent to negotiate before coming herself. Naturally, as any relatively smart man would, the regent would ask to see Jin’s body as proof. That’s how they would keep him occupied and in the palace whilst having her come to them.

In the meantime, Hoseok and three of Yeosu’s best assassins had travelled to Gurye’s camp. The task was simple, quietly eliminate any of Gurye’s high ranking army generals or commanders. Yoongi knew to always go for the head, and it was best to start killing off the head of the snake. Hopefully, Geosan arrived in time to limit any chaos. If not, Yoongi hoped no one would really notice until Hoseok was safely far away.

Finally, the governess would come to the palace, no doubt smug, almost tasting victory.

And then…

“Do you think this will work?” Jimin asked quietly, body still shaking despite Taehyung holding him. Yoongi was not exactly confident about their chances but he had to pretend to be. Both Jimin and Taehyung had a lot to lose if this didn’t go according to plan and somewhere along the line, though it hadn’t been long, Yoongi had begun to care about them. He had begun to care about everyone in this palace. It was the only way to explain why he was doing this.

 “I don’t know, but it seems we’re okay so far,” Yoongi said honestly. “We just have to hope that everything else stays in place.

Jimin looked at him for a long moment before turning to Taehyung, then back to Yoongi again. His head fell as he breathed.

“I need Jin,” he murmured quietly and it was raw with emotion that Yoongi’s heart broke. Initially, Jimin had seemed to controlled and in charge. Now, he seemed so tired and afraid. Yoongi supposed being trapped in a brothel and having to kill a man had taken its toll on him.

“I need him to be okay,” Jimin continued, desperate and not afraid to show it.

Taehyung held Jimin closer, “It’s okay,” he breathed. “This is a good plan. We’ll get out of this.”

Jimin nodded, wanting to believe Taehyung. “I’ll go over to the temple to…” he trailed but they all understood. Jimin bowed his head and trudged out as something tugged at Yoongi’s heart when his eyes fell on Taehyung.

Heat coloured his neck, despite him trying to appear cool. He hadn’t had time to speak to Taehyung after the night before. He wanted to tell him that one day, maybe, after this, maybe Yoongi could trust him the way he needed. Maybe one day they could be more.

But that seemed like the wrong thing to say at that point.

“I never got the chance to say this earlier,” Taehyung began, “But thank you. Thank you for trusting Jin-hyung.”

Yoongi looked at him, heart racing, a part of him only wanting to kiss him. He let him say the words, because he finally believed them. Doing this had confirmed it.

“I trust you too, Tae. I really do.”

Taehyung’s pretty honey eyes widened and in that moment, he looked so young and innocent. Yoongi’s heart warmed.

“Thank you, hyung.”

They both nodded, understanding something unspoken. Yoongi picked up one of his blades, it’s silver glinting dangerously.

“Can I ask you for something?” Taehyung continued, taking a step towards Yoongi. His eyes were searching Yoongi’s as they always did and it still managed to make him uneasy. This time though, Yoongi stayed put, confident as he tried not to stare at the Taehyung’s pretty tan neck or his feather soft lips.

“Anything,” Yoongi breathed, realising he meant it. He had hated being under Taehyung’s spell, but he realised there wasn’t really anything he could do to come out of it. There must have been something about being on the brink of death that made him throw caution and hesitation to the wind.

That made Taehyung smile. He tugged him closer in a swift motion, until Yoongi was flush against his chest, heart somehow managing not to launch out of his throat. Before he could react, Taehyung’s lips brushed against his in question.

Yoongi didn’t need words.

He kissed Taehyung hard on the mouth, deep and yearning, like it was last time. Taehyung moaned against him and Yoongi ate it up, pressing harder against the hard lines of his body, the blade falling somewhere on the ground as his hand found its way into Taehyung’s hair.

“Hyung, you’re so…” Taehyung sighed against his lips, trailing off when Yoongi kissed his words away.

Yoongi didn’t want to waste time talking. They only had this moment and he wanted to make it count. His mouth moved to Taehyung’s jaw and the younger’s head fell back, allowing him more access and Yoongi wanted the moment to last forever. To have Taehyung fully once again.

But the moment was cut short when in the doorway, a servant cleared their throat. Yoongi stumbled back, blushing as the young woman looked at them both with curious eyes.

“Your graces,” she began bowing. “My apologies for… um, disturbing.”

“It’s fine,” both Yoongi and Taehyung said hurriedly.

The young woman nodded. “Uh, the governess of Gurye has just entered the palace gates.”

Both men nodded stiffly and she excused herself, scurrying down the hallway, no doubt to report what she had just seen.

Yoongi turned back to Taehyung and offered him a small shy smile. Taehyung smiled back warmly. “Let’s begin the show,” Taehyung said.

Yoongi picked up his knives once again, stowing them away and nodding. “Yeah.”

“Oh and hyung?” Taehyung said. “I trust you too.”

And that was enough, Yoongi thought.

Jin was alive but he wasn’t sure for how much longer. When Yoongi had showed up that morning with the letter in his hands and a plan in the other, Jin had been doubtful. Why would Yoongi want to help him this much?

But he had quickly realised that this wasn’t all about him. Whether Min Yoongi wanted to admit it or not, he clearly cared for Taehyung. In such a short time, they had both started something that could potentially be beautiful.

Jin wasn’t one to judge. From the moment he had seen Jimin—he had just known.

“I’m scared,” Jimin whispered. Jimin stood before him as he sat on a raised platform made of carved wood. Jimin’s hand was in his as they shared one last moment together. “What if none of this works?”

Jin wanted to assure Jimin but he didn’t have the right words. At any moment, the governess and the regent would be in here to inspect his body. If this was going to work, Jin had to lie incredibly still for a while. He had taken some medicine from the physician to relax him and slow down his heartrate, but there was no guarantee that it would fool them for long enough.  

“We just have to hope everyone has done their part. Namjoon did. You did. Hopefully Hoseok pulls it off and if not, hopefully Jeongguk is in time.”

Jimin nodded, holding up his hand and kissing his knuckled softly, eyelashes wet with tears.

Jin hated seeing him like this.

And he couldn’t help but think it was his fault.

“It’ll be okay,” Jimin breathed, trying to convince himself. “You’ll be okay.”

Tears had begun to fall and it broke Jin’s heart, but he simply squeezed Jimin’s hand. Around his dais were candles, already lit, juniper incense burning to chase away the bad spirits. After a moment, he let his own hand slip out of his Jimin’s before laying on his dais, dressed in the ceremonial robes he had only just been crowned king in.

A fitting outfit for the dead.

“I love you,” Jimin cried, but Jin told himself not to reply, going incredibly still, knowing his own blade lay just under him, ready to be resurrected and paint the temple walls red.

Choi Soojung rode into the palace gates, flanked by her men. Everyone stared at her and she basked in it, determined for them to get a good look at their new queen. Really, this had simply been too easy. Namjoon had buckled according to the messenger. Seokjin’s whore had lashed out at the regent in anger and despair. Even if this was somehow a trap, Soojung knew she had men ready to be commanded to slaughter the residents of Yeosu.

The people were already disheartened, rumours of the dead king floating about in hushed tones. Despite the soldiers guarding the city, it would all be too easy for her.

She smiled as she was helped off her carriage, robes flowing around her, not a hair out of place. She thought of her daughter, away in the camp, refusing to be part of this and pitied her. Her daughter had no determination and it made her skin crawl, unable to believe she had raised such a weakling.

“Governess,” someone called, standing by a stairway that led into he palace. Soojung looked up to find the second oldest Kim, looking somewhat frail in comparison to when she had seen him last.

In fact, everything around the palace seemed sombre. The grey clouds, the furrowed brows of servants milling about and the odd silence of the city. She smiled at the boy, bowing only mockingly.

“Your grace,” she murmured. “Or may I call you Namjoon?”

On the stairs, the prince flinched but nodded anyway. “Of course.” He breathed. “Please follow me to the regent so we may begin our discussions. I would rather have peace instead of blood.”

It was a clear statement. Namjoon was willing to give this all up in exchange for peace.

How perfect.

She followed behind him, trailed by her company of soldiers and servants.

She had never been fond of advisors, but had allowed her highest ranking general to accompany her, in case things went awry.

As she walked through the wooden panelled hallways with rich golden and red walls, jasmine in the air, she could spot the muted opulence. It was familiar but unfamiliar at the same time. So different from Gurye’s earthier tones. Yet, this would soon be her home.

When they found themselves in the throne room, the regent fell to his knees dramatically, bowing before the governess. “My Queen!” he cried.

Soojung smiled. He was truly a leech. A man who couldn’t be trusted but a man she needed nonetheless.

For now at least.

“You have done well, Yoo Chun,” she told him. “Thank you.”

Next to him, Namjoon kept his face blank, watchful but somewhat resigned.

“Please,” he interrupted. “If we could get started.”

The governess shook her head. “I cannot begin any negotiations without seeing Seokjin’s body.” She had to make sure. Had to see the pitiful king lying dead and useless.

Namjoon looked taken aback, offended even. “He is in the sacred temple with the high—”

“I do not pray to your gods therefore I do not care,” Soojung said levelly. “I want to see the body or else I will call my men and they will  rain terror on this city.”

Namjoon glared back just as levelly and Soojung was almost impressed. She had always thought the middle prince was somewhat too involved in his studies to understand politics but here he was, holding his own despite the circumstances. Perhaps he was his father’s son.

“I have men too. Only some of them are in Jeonju, governess. We can still take on your army easily. However, I would prefer to avoid an unnecessary and prolonged war which would starve my people.”

Soojung nodded, appreciating the sentiment. “Of course,” she muttered. “Yet, I still want to see the body, Namjoon. On this, I will not compromise.”

Namjoon sighed but nodded, “If you insist, governess.”

The walk to the temple was short, just as she remembered from the recent coronation and the one before that. Fire spread through her bones, anticipation building as she looked ahead, ignoring the stares from servants.

“I’m afraid your soldiers cannot enter the temple, governess. This is sacred ground,” Namjoon instructed.

Soojung shot him a look, adamant to stay with her guard.

“No,” she said calmly. “They enter too.”

Namjoon shook his head, maintaining his position. “I have promised you the city, governess. Please respect my family one last time and leave your soldiers outside.”

Looking at him, tired and worn, Soojung pitied him. He had been dealt a terrible hand by having a terrible and ineffective family. Perhaps this simple compromise would be her gift.

“Alright,” she finally said. “But I come in with my general.”

Namjoon smiled and nodded. “Of course, thank you, governess” he murmured, bowing his head and entering the grand temple, fashioned to look like those in the Haritori kingdom.

Soojung took a deep breath, and entered.

It was grand, the wooden ceilings caved, candles everywhere with carved wooden dragons lining the narrow walkway, like they were guarding something. In the centre of the temple, at its alter was Jimin, lying over a body, silent. When he heard them, he looked up, eyes blurry with tears. A quiet gasp escaped his mouth as he put a protective hand over Seokjin’s chest.

Soojung smiled as she turned to the regent. “Your nephew is dead,” she said matter-of-factly.

He smiled back. “It would seem.

Outside in the courtyard, the company seventeen soldiers stood alert, waiting for their future queen to return.

It was the quiet way Seokjin’s own soldiers crept up on them, dressed as servants with hidden blades. The soldiers from Gurye were all stabbed in succession, too fast for any of them to cry out for help or warn the governess. In a matter of seconds, seventeen bodies lay dead in the courtyard, painting it a violent crimson that was soon diluted by the heavens pouring down rain.

It was a rather impressive feet, but Yeosu had not been the most powerful kingdom for centuries without reason.

Jimin watched as the governess and the regent stalked towards him and Jin. He slowly squeezed Jin’s chest, warning him of the impending danger.

“Get out,” he said tersely.

The governess smiled with pity, walking past the dragons and candles, the regent just behind her.

“Jimin is it?” she asked, that sweet smile still painted on her face. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Leave,” he said again, playing his part as the distraught lover.

“By tomorrow I will be your queen, Jimin. I’d watch my tone if I were you.” She was directly in front of him now and Jimin moved his body to cover Jin’s.

The governess narrowed her eyes at him. “Move,” she demanded but he simply stared at her. Behind her stood a man in uniform and the regent who was looking on curiously. In the corner of his eye, Jimin saw Taehyung emerge from the shadows of the dragons. Namjoon flinched behind the regent.

“You’ll have to kill me,” Jimin spat, prompting a laugh from her.

“You’re just a child,” she muttered regretfully. “I said move before I have you killed for treason.”

“Governess,” Namjoon warned, but before he could continue, Jimin saw Taehyung stand behind the general, and before the general could realise what was happening, his throat had been split open.

Blood gushed out, the general gurgling his own blood. The man clutched his throat, choking on his own blood as he slowly sank to the floor, knees first, everything else following.  

The governess’s eyes flashed with terror as did the regent’s as they saw the general’s blood pool around him, darkening on the wooden floors, dampening his silks and hair with violent crimson.

“Guards!” the governess screamed, but there was no response. No guards to hear her cry. If Jimin’s estimations were accurate then they would already be dead. “Guards!”

This time, terror painted the governess’s face, all the colour draining from her.

The regent looked at Taehyung, eyes wide with fear.

“They won’t come,” Yoongi’s voice came, silver blade in hand. It was odd on him, Jimin thought. He had always seemed so harmless to Jimin, but not in this moment. No, now he was poised for murder.

Beneath his hand, Jin stirred and Jimin looked down at him as he opened his eyes. He let out a loud, dramatic groan and the governess laughed, the plan finally making sense.

“Governess,” Jin said, moving his body to sit up slowly and smiling. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“We need to leave,” the regent told the governess. “Call your army to march into the city and slaughter every child they see.”

Behind him, Taehyung tsked, stepping over the dead general and going over to stand beside Yoongi. “Uncle, I always knew you were fucked in the head, but murdering children?”

“If there’s anyone fucked in the head, it’s you, you bastard!” The regent shouted.

Taehyung pouted and shrugged. “No one will ever know about that once you’re dead.”

Next to him the governess was shaking her head. “My plan was perfect,” she said slowly. “I anticipated all the variations.”

“Clearly not all of them,” Yoongi muttered. “You didn’t think I would truly form an alliance with Yeosu did you?”

The governess sneered at him. “Your father would spit on you if he saw you now.”

Yoongi shrugged. “Good thing he’s not alive then, no?”

“Let me go,” the regent said after a moment. “I had nothing to do with this. She insisted—”

Jin laughed, and Jimin shivered. He had never heard that laugh before. Looking at Jin now, despite the drugs, he looked murderous and the nonchalance of it was even more chilling.

“Sshh, Uncle,” Jin placed a finger on his mouth smirking. “I understand. Power is power, right?”

The regent was speechless.

Next to him, the governess’s body shook with anger. “My men will still overrun this city. They will still kill you all.”

Yoongi shook his head. “Earlier today, my friend travelled to your camp and killed all your generals—” Just as Yoongi said this, Hoseok and Jeongguk walked in. Jimin spotted the relief flash across Yoongi’s face.

“Hyung,” Jeongguk breathed. “Geosan is stifling Gurye’s advance.”

Taehyung looked at Hoseok, whose shirt was bloody and ripped. “And the generals?”

Hoseok nodded. “All dead.”

Horror was written all over the old woman’s face and the regent’s.

Jin stepped off his mat and went down to the governess, smiling happily. “You lost,” he murmured. “All your generals are dead and your army has been disarmed. You lost.”

She gritted her teeth. “So, are you going to kill me, Exalted?”

Jin smirked lazily. “I’m not my father, governess. I think it might be an unequal fight to have you surrounded by seven men.” He breathed. “No, I’ll let you live.”

She laughed loudly, looking at all of them as if they were stupid. “I am offended, Exalted. I am a warrior and deserve to die as one.”

Jin tilted his head at her, questioning, but Jimin understood. Despite the governess’s traditional views, she was still powerful and being spared because she was a woman was insulting. No, she was a fighter, someone who had attempted to steal the throne. She deserved to die as anyone else would.

“You were a worthy opponent then, governess,” Jin said.

She smiled bitterly at that but bowed her head before him in respect. “Exalted.”

It was quick. Jimin didn’t watch but he knew it was quick.

The regent’s death was neither noble nor memorable. The old man fell to his knees and Jimin stood before him. “Jin-ah!” he cried. “Please spare me!”

He was trembling with fear and Jimin couldn’t find it in him to feel any pity. Snot dribbled down his nose to his mouth, eyes puffy and red from crying and begging. Jimin looked at Hoseok and Jeongguk, Namjoon, then Taehyung and Yoongi, who had leaned into each other, then at Jin.  

Their unlikely alliance.

“Jimin-ah,” he said carefully. “You don’t have to.”

Jimin shook his head. Since he had met the regent, since that one evening when he had decided he wanted to have Jimin for himself, Jimin had always known that one day he’d kill him and he’d enjoy it.

“I want to,” he told Jin, hoping that it did not scare him.

“No!” the regent cried. “Please! I beg of you. Please spare me, Jimin-ah. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry!”

He was in tears now and Jimin wasn’t buying it. He gripped Yoo Chun by his hair, holding on tightly as the man’s neck strained. “You almost killed me,” Jimin said. “You hurt me so many times.”

“Jimin-ah…” the man shook his head, hoping to stop him.

It didn’t. Jimin sliced a perfect cut across the man’s throat.

Blood spilt out almost beautifully and Jimin watched the man’s blood soak his shoes and the ends of his robes. There was a deafening silence before he heard himself choke out a cry and fall, but before he hit the ground, Jin was holding him in his arms.

Jimin cried, but at least—at least now he was safe.

                                                                        ***

Yoongi watched on, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. The temple was covered in crimson, candles reflected in the blood. Finally, it was over and as he looked up at Taehyung, he felt free. In the blur of guards pouring in and ensuring everyone’s safety, Yoongi leaned into Taehyung.

He was safe.

The aftermath was not as chaotic or loud as Yoongi thought it would be. The residents of Yeosu were informed of the events that had taken place in the palace and more than anything, they seemed grateful that their new king had protected them from what had been an inevitable war. They sang his praises and thanked the gods that finally they did not have a war-mongering king. That evening, they remained in their homes, still too weary to celebrate much, but profound optimism in the air.

The invisible enemy had been eliminated and finally they could continue on with their lives without the anticipation of war.

Geosan along with some of Jin’s battalions managed to block Gurye’s further advance with minimal casualties. It seemed their morale had been destroyed as soon as news of all their high-ranking officials dying was announced. They surrendered within minutes.

As the night settled, Seokjin and Jimin disappeared inside their chambers and held each other closely until they fell asleep.

After making sure Jeongguk and Hoseok were fine, Yoongi made his way to his own room, bones heavy and tired. It was confirmed that they would leave the following morning and for the most part, he was ready to return home. So much had taken place in the last weeks and his body was wrought with fatigue and tension. He missed the quiet, rolling meadows of the north and the friendliness of their small kingdom. Above all, he missed his mother.

Yoongi was getting ready for his bath when Taehyung let himself in. They had spoken earlier, understanding that this wasn’t their time. There was still so much to be done in Yeosu, more enemies to eliminate before they cemented Jin’s rule. Yoongi knew Taehyung owed it to Jin to stay and help. So, this was their goodbye and Yoongi told himself that it was okay. It had to be.

Smiling shyly, Yoongi said, “I was about to take a bath, wanna join?”

Taehyung smiled just as softly and nodded, going over to him and holding Yoongi’s hand. Yoongi felt himself melt against him.

They could have this.

One last time.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell Jin?” Yoongi asked. His back was against Taehyung’s and their hands laced together in the bath water. They had been in there for a while, the water beginning to cool, but neither of them wanting to move.

Taehyung placed a gently kiss on Yoongi’s shoulder, making him shiver. “I think he might know. Namjoon-hyung too,” he breathed. “My uncle called me a bastard today and neither of them flinched. I think we’ve all always known.”

Yoongi was quiet for a moment. Perhaps Taehyung was right. None of them were stupid, and maybe they had all decided to not talk about who their mother had been. At the end of the day, they were brothers.

“Maybe we’ll talk about it one day,” Taehyung continued. “I don’t know, but after everything, it seems stupid to worry about it.”

They fell into another comfortable silence and Yoongi allowed himself to think about how nice it might be to show Taehyung the north. How Mei would probably enjoy the rolling hills and cliffs. It hurt just as much as it put a smile on his face.

Yoongi shifted, turning to face Taehyung. “I wish—”

Taehyung touched his lips with his own, hushing Yoongi. “I know.”

And that was all there was left to say. Yoongi settled back into Taehyung and they let the water run cold before coming out.

That night, Taehyung held Yoongi closely, breathing easier. Yoongi didn’t cry, despite the lump making its home in his throat.

“Hyung?” Taehyung began in the dark.

Yoongi knew what he was asking for and without letting him continue, he found Taehyung’s lips and let himself get lost.

One last time.

It was early in the morning when they rode away from the palace, accompanied by some of the palace guards.

“You okay, hyung?” Hoseok asked next to him.

Yoongi nodded, looking out at the road before them.

Their goodbyes had been somewhat emotional.

Jimin, who looked like his old self, dressed primly, chin held high had hugged all of them, Yoongi last, holding on tightly. “Thank you,” he had whispered, loud enough for only to him to hear. When Yoongi nodded, Jimin stepped away, bowing, eyes glassy with tears.

Namjoon had bowed too, with that all-knowing smile of his. “I hope to see you all soon,” he said, eyes focused on Hoseok.

And Yoongi remembered Hoseok had been cautious about the prince, but maybe this wasn’t the end for them.

“Of course, your grace,” Hoseok said, matching the smile.

Last, it was Jin who simply held Yoongi’s shoulder. “I owe you so much, Yoongi.” He smiled. “I hope I can repay you.”

Yoongi didn’t want to hold this against him. At the end of the day, his home finally had access to ports and trade. It was all he needed in return.

“I hope we can be friends once again, hyung,” Yoongi said honestly.

Jin gave him his signature smile, shrugging, “We already are, Yoongi-ah.”

Taehyung hadn’t come to say good bye. In the early hours of the morning, when Yoongi was still heavy with sleep, he had felt Taehyung shift next to him before a gentle kiss in his hair.

“I wish we had more time.”

And then he had vanished.

“I’m sorry Taehyung couldn’t be here to wish you a safe journey,” Namjoon said sadly. “He tends to disappear at odd times.”

Yoongi had simply smiled, understanding why.

Then they had gathered their things and started on their journey back home.

As they rode forward, Yoongi kept his eyes ahead, focusing one what was to come and the inevitable lecture he would get from his uncle before he would be enveloped in a hug.

Everything that had taken place in Yeosu had been unexpected, but he had come out of it with a seat on the council and the ability to return the north to its glory days. He smiled to himself as Jeongguk placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning in slightly.

His father would be proud.

He hoped his mother would be too.

And above it all, he hoped Taehyung would be okay.

[Come see me cry about Yoongi on TWITTER  ]

Chapter Text

Ten Months Later

Eun-bi looked up at Jimin, eyes glossy and pretty, cheeks flushed and full of colour. In recent months she had filled out more, finally looking like a girl her age. She ran a hand against a silk cover on the bed wistfully before looking at Jimin.

After the regent’s death, things had seemed to calm down in the palace and despite Eun-bi offering herself to be a servant, both Jimin and Seokjin had immediately declined. It was strange, the moment they had both set their eyes on her, they been immediately fond of her. It was strange too, that they had both made the decision separately, that they wanted her to be theirs. So now, her life resembled more of a princess’s rather than anything else, lavished in whatever her little heart desired and the palace treated her as such. Jin had made sure of it.

Yet despite Jimin wanting to dress her in pretty silks and chiffons, she much preferred stiff cotton that didn’t matter much if they got dirty whilst she bothered Taehyung about knives and spent her days trying to ride horses. She had already sprained her ankle once.

“You look pretty,” she said with a smile, coming up to grab a handful of rose petals in a box and throwing them up to the sky and giggling to herself as they fell around her like snowflakes.

Jimin watched on with an amused smile, always surprised by how well she had managed to adjust to life in the palace after what had no doubt been a traumatic existence in the brothel. She never talked about it and refused to hear it whenever Jimin tried to mention it.

It was only once, a month ago when she had come to Jimin and Jin in the middle of the night, tears staining her cheeks.

“Thank you,” Jimin said, picking out the remaining petals from her hair. “You should get your hair combed again.”

Her brow furrowed, bottom lip jutting out. “I’ll just get it messy again.”

She wasn’t lying.

Jimin sighed, giving up. There wasn’t much of a point anyway. “Will you go check on Jin and maybe hold his hand? He might be nervous.”

Eun-bi laughed out a “Sure!” before skipping out of the room.

Jimin wasn’t sure what it was or how it had happened, but one night, a week after everything happened, both him and Jin had found themselves having dinner with her and liking the idea of it lasting forever.

“Hmm you make a pretty husband to be, Park Jimin.” Jimin recognised the voice immediately and he grinned when he spun around to the door to see Mi-Sun standing there, a little smile playing on her lips. She walked in, dressed in luxurious pink silk, her dark hair braided expertly and decorate with pretty jewels.

Jimin smirked. Within months of being in the palace, Mi-Sun had somehow managed to get married to one of the wealthiest nobles in the city. Jimin had never worried about her, she seemed like someone who always had a plan. And it was one hell of a plan. She lived in one of the wealthiest areas in the city and had a host of servants and her beck and call. All within months.

“From a lowly servant to a prince,” Mi-Sun went on. “Impressive. Makes a whore like me think I can make something of myself.” She fiddled with a rogue flower before turning back to Jimin.

Jimin himself couldn’t believe it. By the end of the day, he would be married to the love of his life, ten months after he thought he would lose his life. None of it seemed real, yet here he was, getting ready to marry Jin anyway.

Their wedding ceremony was going to be small. There was no politics involved and they had only invited those they wanted to share their day with. It was easier since the council was still dissolved, months after it had imploded.

“You already have,” Jimin said. Outside of marrying a powerful noble, she quietly got girls who didn’t want to work in brothels out. No one knew she was in charge of it except Jimin.

That made her smile a little, proud of herself. “I suppose,” she murmured. “I am happy for you, Jimin-ah or should I say, your grace?” Her full, crimson coloured lips spread into a grin.

 “I’m happy for you too,” he said. “And yes, you must absolutely call me your grace. I’ll accept nothing else.”

She laughed, throwing a flower at him, making him laugh too. It was nice, he thought, to have a friend who understood.

In the doorway, a servant appeared. “Your grace,” she said quietly. “It’s time…”

Jimin looked out the window for a moment, letting out a deep breath. The preparations had all been overseen by him, the flowers individually picked, the guests all invited personally. It was meant to be the perfect day, the sun out and the birds finally singing again.

“Thank you, Ha-Eun,” he nodded at her and she bowed in response. It was still strange that people bowed to him now.

When Jin had asked to marry him, one morning as they lay in bed lazily, Jimin hadn’t really been surprised. He knew it was coming, but he had still cried.

There was no council to bypass, but the generals and nobles hadn’t been impressed. An heir was expected after all and they aptly pointed out that neither Jin nor Jimin could produce a child.

At the end of the day though, the protests and the disgruntled nobles didn’t matter. They were doing this for them—finally.

Jimin stood, smoothing out his robes and looked at Mi-Sun who looked him up and down in appreciation. “Yeah, you probably won’t be walking very well tomorrow with the way you look.” She smiled slyly. Jimin fought the smile that was forming on his lips, rolling his eyes instead.

For a moment, he wondered how his father was, where he might be and whether he knew of the story about the king marrying his servant. He hoped he knew, but even if he didn’t, Jimin didn’t mind. He only hoped that wherever the man was, he at least had something to eat.

He walked out the doors, Mi-Sun behind him and a host of servants following him down the palace hallways, to his future. When the doors swung open and a loud gong sounded, Jimin lay his eyes on Seokjin and breathed. Jin bit his lip, looking nervous. Jimin smiled.

He was home.

Yoongi sat next to his mother as Jimin walked up to Jin, small smile on his lips, the small crowd around them watching on awe. His family had arrived late, the night before and Yoongi hadn’t had the time to say hello to old friends before he had passed out.

It was strange being back in the palace with his mother, fully recovered, colour filling her cheeks as she smiled proudly, watching on despite only having met Jin when he was still a child. Yoongi felt her reach over and hold his hand. Despite his own nerves, he felt himself relax at her touch.

When he had returned home, all those months ago, heart slightly heavy but equally excited, he hadn’t expected to see his mother waiting for him by the gates, tears in her eyes. For a moment, Yoongi thought he was seeing her ghost, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him. When he had descended from the carriage, she had run up to meet him, enveloping him in a tight hug and crying. It was only after she had let go that he realised he was crying too.

“I’m so so sorry,” she had cried. “I’m sorry.”

Yoongi had taken her in his arms again, unable to believe it. “I love you,” is all he could tell her.

As he watched the proceedings, his heart swelled as his eyes searched the room for the one face he was hoping to see.

The north was doing well. Jin had kept his promise, seeing to it that their trade channels were opened and no raids took place near the borders. It was strange watching men and women in his city amass wealth in such a short space of time. It was welcome though, to not have so many complaints or fears whenever he had an audience. Instead, the reports were things he could fix, and having his mother there to be the queen took a weight off. She had slid back into it so well too, like nothing had ever happened. They hadn’t talked about his father yet, but it was comforting to have her back and maybe one day when she was ready, they would.

 “They both look really happy,” she whispered next to him, a smile stretching across her thin lips. Her eyes went wide when she looked at him, as she always did when she looked at him as a child, like she was surprised to see him. It always made Yoongi giggle, squealing in glee when she’d pick him up and spin him around.

This time, he only smiled back. “Yeah,” he said, looking back at Jin and Jimin gazing at each other lovingly, completely lost to each other. “They are.”

Yoongi’s eyes went searching again. There weren’t many people, the couple choosing to keep things intimate. Next to him, Hoseok nudged him. “He’s over there,” he whispered, looking over to the left side of the room, knowing who exactly Yoongi was in search of.

And there he was.

He was looking up at Jin and Jimin and Yoongi couldn’t fully see his face, but he could tell Taehyung was smiling widely. Predictably, his heart hammered and butterflies set flight in his stomach.

Yoongi hadn’t been sure what to expect. When he had returned home, he had told himself that he had to forget Taehyung. That it would be simpler that way.

That was until the first letter arrived.

It was from Taehyung and it didn’t say much except to update him on how Mei was doing and how Jin had embarked on a purge, getting rid of anyone who posed a threat, not killing them but demoting them lowly ranks.

Yoongi had initially had every intention to forget Taehyung, but the letters between them in the last ten months had only piled up. It was him telling Taehyung about his mother, who had suddenly recovered. It was Taehyung telling him about teaching Eun-bi about knives and her falling from a horse. It was Yoongi telling him he missed him.

It was Taehyung telling him that it was strange to love someone he couldn’t touch.

It was Yoongi agreeing.

It was Yoongi being in love.

The ceremony was beautiful in all the ways a wedding ceremony could be. At the end of it, Jimin was married and a prince. Tears danced in both their eyes as the crowd bowed in unison before applause rang through the small hall, decorated in pretty silks and flowers. Yoongi watched on as Jin held Jimin closely, like he was afraid the younger would disappear. They gazed at each other for a long moment, eyes communicating what the crowd could not understand before they both waved Eun-bi over, who rushed at them, hugging them as they laughed and held each other tightly.

“Seems like they have their little heir already,” Yoongi’s mother whispered as she looked on. It seemed to be the conversation on everyone else’s lips, the new information to be passed from servant to royal.  And they were right. Eun-bi would be groomed to be the new princess of Yeosu.

Their future queen.

Once again, Yoongi found himself searching the crowd for Taehyung’s but as they all waited for the royals to leave the room, they were engulfed by a crowd that had come to greet his mother. A woman Yoongi did not recognise came over to hug her, and then looked at Yoongi with surprise filling her eyes. “It’s so lovely to see the Mins so well represented on such a beautiful occasion,” she said rapidly, the hall filled with sounds of laughter. “I heard what happened a few months ago, Yoongi-ssi. You must be so proud of him, your grace,” she continued, beaming at his mother. “He’ll make an excellent king one day.”

Next to him, his mother smiled politely, nodding along. “I have no doubts,” she replied in her signature cool tone.

The unnamed women seemed to register the awkwardness, smiling slightly before bowing and scurrying away.

“I have no idea who that woman is,” his mother whispered, a conspiratory smile dancing on her lips.

Yoongi grinned, but he wasn’t really concentrating as an announcer instructed them to make their way to the courtyard, where the residents of Yeosu were eagerly waiting for their newly married king. He let himself be dragged outside into the warm setting sun that cast a pale glow over the turrets of the palace and the eagerly waiting people.

All the royals and nobles stood along the open halls that overlooked the courtyard and at the helm of a small stairway stood Seokjin and Jimin. On one side was Namjoon and on the other Taehyung, directly across Yoongi.

Yoongi’s breath caught as his eyes met Taehyung’s, the younger’s eyes widening for a moment before a small smile appeared on his lips.

A loud applause pulled Yoongi out of the trance and he spotted Taehyung laugh a little making his cheeks flare.

Next to him, he felt Jeongguk nudge him and shoot him a knowing smile, only worsening the burn in Yoongi’s cheeks. “You’re so in love, hyung. It’s kinda weird,” Jeongguk whispered. Without looking, Yoongi stamped his foot on Jeongguk’s boot, prompting a muffled groan from him.

“Fuck you,” he muttered.

“Language,” Hoseok shot back.

“Boys,” his mother warned.

Despite himself, Yoongi smiled ahead, watching the proceedings take place. The entire courtyard bowed for their new royals, declaring their loyalty to the king before cheering loudly.

Tonight, they would be gifted with a party, with enough wine to sustain them for a year. Little children had been gifted flowers and there was enough food for everyone. Yeosu wouldn’t sleep for days, just as they hadn’t a few months ago during the coronation but this time, there was a lot less tension in the air. Or maybe it was just Yoongi. He didn’t have to worry about slitting Jin’s throat. He didn’t have to worry about much anymore. He had already seen enough blood to last him a life time. He was still having nightmares of that day in the temple. Some days he saw the regent’s face, other times he saw the governess screaming at them. Most days though, he saw Taehyung’s hands, covered in blood.

It was only in the chaos of the reception, when countless people had come up to greet the Min family, and express how happy they were that the north was doing so well.

It was all the same. “We are so glad to hear you are well, your grace,” they said, looking at Yoongi’s mother.

As soon as they moved away, she simply rolled her eyes. “I should have stayed locked up. I just remembered why I can’t stand people,” she muttered to herself.

Yoongi smirked but before he could reply his mother, he heard a deep voice behind him, his heart immediately seizing.

“Your grace,” Taehyung said as Yoongi spun round to face him.

He was smiling. It was the first thing Yoongi noticed. Taehyung’s smile.

Then his eyes. The honey already pulling him in before he had time to catch his breath. The spring weather had already spread colour on his skin, looking impossibly golden and soft.

Yoongi had to remind himself to breathe.

Behind him, he heard his mother say, “You must be Taehyung. I’m Min Soo-Jin. Yoongi’s mother—”

“And queen of the north,” Taehyung finished with a charming smile. “It’s an honour, your grace.” He bowed politely.

Yoongi still hadn’t found his words when Taehyung turned to face him, looking into his eyes and drowning.

“I’ll leave you two,” he heard his mother say behind him.

And then they were alone.

“Hi,” Taehyung said.

Yoongi’s mind was a mess, filled with all the things he had desperately wanted to tell Taehyung in person. He had been looking forward to this moment for months and it was finally here. Yet, nervousness found its way creeping in, wondering whether they could simply pick up where they had left off.

Of course he knew what was happening in Taehyung’s life. The letters had filled in all the missing spaces they had when he left Yeosu. He knew Taehyung’s favourite colour now—yellow because of course and what he liked to eat. Their letters had offered him a glimpse into Taehyung’s mind. One that had once confused him, but now it all made sense.

Yoongi still didn’t know where to begin.

Taehyung huffed out a laugh and Yoongi’s heart jumped again. “I was expecting more enthusiasm, hyung.”

His smile reached his eyes, Yoongi thought, watching the light hit them prettily, glinting in the remnants of the sun.

Around them, nobles danced, swaying to the string instruments, moving around the room as the wine flowed from their cups. A wave of déjà vu ran through Yoongi, but something was different this time. Taehyung was smiling sweetly at him, nothing threatening behind his eyes. The sounds around them delicate, the flowers fragrant. Happiness flooding every part of him.

“Hi,” he finally managed.

Taehyung’s mouth spread into a grin, wide and boxy. “Dance with me,” he said, grabbing Yoongi’s hand, not giving him enough time to protest.

Yoongi was winded, focused on the warm hand clutching his own and dragging him to the centre of the room. Before he knew it, they were swaying along to the soft strings, and he trained his eyes on Taehyung, memorising his features carefully, finally landing on his lips and all he could think of was how much he wanted to touch…

“People are going to stare,” Yoongi said instead.

Taehyung looked around, that smile still on his lips. “Two men just got married, hyung. One of them being a king. I think whatever we do isn’t going to surprise anyone.”

Yoongi couldn’t really argue with that, so he settled in Taehyung’s hold. He liked the way their bodies fit well together. Liked the warmth radiating off his body.

“I missed you,” Yoongi breathed.

It felt as if the world had melted away, the faint music somewhere in their background. Taehyung’s lips parted, as if to say something before his tongue ran against his bottom lip.

Yoongi wanted…

“I missed you too, hyung. So much.”

“Can we…?” Yoongi wasn’t sure how to finish, but he wanted to be alone with Taehyung.

“Please,” Taehyung smiled, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on Yoongi’s mouth.

Yoongi liked the feeling of being pressed against Taehyung, having the younger at his mercy as he kissed his neck against the wall. Yoongi heard Taehyung moan, muffled when their mouths connected again.  The sun had gone down and outside, the city celebrated. Candles burned all over the room, casting a perfect golden glow that reflected prettily on Taehyung’s skin.  

It was difficult work to get all the ceremonial robes off their bodies but Yoongi didn’t mind, liking the kisses snuck between and the little giggles that kept escaping Taehyung’s mouth.

“Missed you, hyung,” Taehyung said, hands finding every inch of skin they could, and Yoongi keening for him, wanting more. He caught Taehyung’s bottom lip, nipping gently, but it seemed Taehyung wasn’t really up for gentle as he pulled Yoongi closer, hand gripping his hair.

“Want you,” Yoongi murmured. It was difficult to filter his thoughts to his mouth. He wanted Taehyung in all the worst ways possible and the thought of it made him twitch, desire burning through him.

Yoongi’s hands found themselves on Taehyung’s hips as he pressed roughly on his hip bones, making Taehyung groan. “Yoongi…” he breathed. And Yoongi decided he loved his name coming out of Taehyung’s mouth.

Outside of Taehyung’s room, a room with many wonderous things Yoongi couldn’t wait to explore later, the palace went on obliviously. Jin and Jimin greeted the nobles that came to congratulate them, smiling cordially as Eun-bi sat obediently at Jimin’s side. Namjoon, Hoseok and Jeongguk caught up and the Min matriarch tried her best to avoid people.

Yoongi and Taehyung had switched positions, Yoongi against the wall, breathing deeply as the younger moved off him, smirking, and getting on his knees. He looked up at Yoongi with those eyes that he once feared. Now it simply drove him insane, making him twitch again.

“You really want me.” It was a statement, said so confidently that Yoongi couldn’t even lie. He wanted Taehyung to ruin him. Perhaps it wasn’t the sort of thing they should be doing when they had so much to talk about, but they had never been conventional, had they?

“Should I use my mouth, hyung?” Taehyung asked sweetly, looking up at Yoongi innocently. “Or should I just fuck you right now?”

Yoongi took in a sharp breath because Taehyung didn’t wait for an answer, he took Yoongi’s length in his hand and slowly moved it into his mouth, moaning and still staring right up at Yoongi. He looked so pretty and Yoongi was lost to him.

Taehyung moved forward and pulled back painfully slow. Yoongi’s knees felt weak, not sure he could hold himself up with the pulsing ache he felt. He bit back a moan, biting his bottom lip instead. Taehyung’s tongue swirled on the tip, licking whilst his hand moved up and down.

“Fuck, fuck...” Yoongi breathed quietly. His eyes fluttered, but he willed himself to keep watching as Taehyung took him in his mouth again, taking all off him at once, still taking his time. He was being messy, saliva dribbling down his chin, humming quietly, savouring it. Yoongi tried not to buck his hips forward, but Taehyung was driving him to the edge, his tongue swirling and moving painfully slow.

“Tae,” Yoongi breathed, his body tightening in anticipation.

“Uh, hyung,” Taehyung pulled off with a warning tone, looking up at him with a slight pout. “I’m not done with you yet.” He stood before Yoongi smiling dangerously before threading his fingers through Yoongi’s dark hair.

“This is all I’ve thought about,” he continued, looking into Yoongi’s eyes, holding him in place. It occurred to Yoongi that he had never had much of a chance when it came to Taehyung. The moment the younger had decided on him, that was it. Months apart had done nothing to ease that.

Yoongi shot up to kiss him, ignoring the slight sting on his scalp as Taehyung continued to pull. “Me too,” he breathed between the kisses.

Taehyung moved them to the bed, the kisses stunted as they both found themselves giggling despite the charged tension in the room. “I think I’ve been waiting for you for a long time, hyung,” Taehyung said suddenly, voice serious.

Yoongi stopped. They were stark naked, surrounded by jasmine and plum blossoms and candles, the distant music playing and Yoongi had never been more in love. He found himself nodding, not knowing what words he could offer Taehyung. Nothing seemed like it was enough.

But Taehyung seemed to understand. His eyes darkened once more, placing a gentle kiss on Yoongi’s mouth.

“Get on your back for me,” Taehyung instructed and Yoongi was more than happy to oblige.

The younger’s lips found themselves on Yoongi’s nipple, sucking and twirling his tongue, making Yoongi arch into his mouth. Yoongi moved his hands through Taehyung’s hair. He pulled Taehyung’s face up to him, kissing him deeply. “Fuck me,” Yoongi breathed. He wanted Taehyung. He needed to feel Taehyung. The younger’s hands went to Yoongi’s neck and gripped slightly. Taehyung leaned in, his lips brushing against Yoongi’s earlobe, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You sure?” he asked quietly. “We’ve never—”

Yoongi tried not to roll his eyes. He had to admit it was sweet. Yoongi had never been fucked before, for lack of a better term, but his body was aching to be full. He desperately wanted to be Taehyung’s and he wasn’t really worried about anything else.

“If I don’t like something, I’ll let you know,” he said, still trying to catch his breath as Taehyung analysed him.

For a moment, Taehyung was quiet, before nodding and leaning down to kiss Yoongi again slowly and leisurely. He traced small kisses down Yoongi’s jaw to his neck before reaching for the necessary oils and slicking his fingers with it.

“Yes?” he checked once again, finger right by Yoongi’s entrance, making him squirm in desperation. Somewhere, he registered his neglected cock, already leaking.

Yoongi let out something that he hoped sounded like a yes and he watched Taehyung grin, vision hazy, like he was stuck in some sort of dream.

Taehyung rubbed his finger against Yoongi’s entrance, making Yoongi moan into the pillow beside him.

“Hyung,” he huffed out a laugh. “I’ve barely touched you.”

Yoongi could hear the mirth in Taehyung’s voice and if he was in any other situation , he would have told Taehyung off but he had lost his mind somewhere in the pleasure and all he could do was focus on the younger’s finger which had slipped in, stretching him out. It was strange at first, a slight sting attached to the unfamiliar feeling. It didn’t hurt though, Taehyung was being painfully gentle.

“I’m fine,” he reassured the younger. “Don’t stop.”

And Taehyung obeyed, moving slowly, letting Yoongi get comfortable with the feeling. After a moment, he was fine and now he just wanted more. “More. I want more.” Yoongi’s voice came out stronger than he expected.

Taehyung laughed again, beaming down so fondly that Yoongi blushed. “Whatever you want, hyung.”

He moved another finger in and the stretch definitely stung this time. Yoongi let out a quiet whine, but Taehyung ran his free hand through Yoongi’s hair, relaxing him.

As always, he moved carefully, leaning down to pepper kisses on his face, both of them laughing despite being horribly turned on. But it was a welcome distraction from the burn, until it grew more and more distant, until Yoongi was moaning against Taehyung’s mouth, begging for more.

“I think that’s my favourite sound you make, hyung. You sound so gorgeous and you’re all mine,” Taehyung said quietly, quickening the pace of his fingers as they angled up, the words going right to his dick. He was leaking by now, sure he could come just from this. But he didn’t want to. Not like this anyway.

“Please,” he heard himself say, knowing what he wanted but unable to ask for it.

Taehyung understood though, carefully adding another finger and it was the same process, nothing about it really attractive as the burn spread through him, but the small kisses all over his face were enough to placate him. Taehyung moved slower and they continued like that for a while, Yoongi getting used to the stretch and Taehyung making him giggle as he nipped at his lips and earlobes.

The pressure began to grow again, the stretch familiar as Taehyung fingers found the right spot, stopping shy of it and making him squirm.

 “I’m good,” Yoongi said wrapping his arms around Taehyung and looking at him carefully. “I’m fine. Please..” the last word came out as a breathy moan, Taehyung angling his fingers up suddenly.

Taehyung watched him for a second, as if looking for something, his hand finding its way into his hair again and stroking.

“If I move too fast or if I do something you don’t like, tell me okay?” Taehyung asked, his voice gentle as his fingers slipped out. Yoongi decided he didn’t like that feeling. He wanted to be full again.

 “I’ll let you know, your grace,” he murmured.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, but pulled Yoongi towards him, aligning their bodies.

Yoongi looked at Taehyung’s body, drinking the golden skin in, satisfied with how flushed Taehyung was, knowing that it was all his doing. He shivered when he felt Taehyung against him, slicked up with the oil dribbling down his own hole and leaking from Taehyung’s cock.

He saw white when Taehyung moved in, body clenching around Taehyung as he heard the younger sigh beautifully above him. He willed his eyes open, desperate to see Taehyung’s own wrecked face, lips parted and breathing heavy.

“Shit, Y-yoongi,” he mumbled. “You’re so…”

Yoongi couldn’t really say anything, body adjusting to the stretch and trying to find the right angle. “Please can I move, hyung?” Taehyung asked desperately, voice raspy.

It took Yoongi a moment before he could nod in response. “Yes,” he said. “Please.”

And suddenly Taehyung moved, pulling back and moving into Yoongi again, the sound of skin against skin and the tight sting of it making Yoongi cry out loudly, enough for anyone in the vicinity to hear. He loved it though, loved it when Taehyung pulled out again and pushed back into him, skin hot and body trembling, pressure building as everything ached.

“You are so pretty, hyung. Do you know that?” Taehyung breathed. Yoongi couldn’t speak, all his energy focused on taking whatever Taehyung was giving him.

He had enjoyed being the one to fuck Taehyung all those months ago, but this? This was a fucking trip. Yoongi couldn’t really answer Taehyung. The younger gripped Yoongi’s hair tighter and Yoongi let out a loud moan, feeling himself leak onto his belly as his body tightened at the sensation.

 “You’re taking me so well.” Taehyung pushed into him again, slightly harder this time and Yoongi was wrecked. He registered his hand trying to find his own cock, anything to relieve the pressure he felt but Taehyung swiftly slapped his hand away, making him whine. So instead, he gripped the sheets tightly, loving how good this all felt, the bite of the sting mixed with the blinding pleasure of it all.

“ Tae,” Yoongi breathed. “Pl-please.” He needed to let go. It was all too much and not enough.

Above him, he heard Taehyung laugh, rubbing his thumb along his mouth where saliva had begun to dribble out. “I wish you could see yourself, hyung. It’s even better than I imagined when I was alone thinking of you.”

Yoongi let out a ragged breath, unable to offer much else.

 “Do you want to come, hyung?”

That sounded like too much, the sensation building from Taehyung fucking into him already making him think he could come untouched, but he still found himself humming a yes.

Taehyung grinned, reaching grip him and stroking only a few times. Yoongi couldn’t tell right from left, the sensations merging until it was a violent buzz building within him and he couldn’t even stop himself when he felt himself clench around Taehyung, making the younger hiss before he spilt in his hand.

The orgasm was intoxicating and too intense when Taehyung didn’t stop, going a little faster, close to edge.

“You’re s-so pretty.” Yoongi was shivering, coming down from his high, overstimulation taking over.

The younger’s lips quirked to the side. “That’s my line, hyung.”

Yoongi was lost. He couldn’t really breathe anymore, and he was hot—so hot.

“Yoongi,” Taehyung breathed into his mouth, kissing him deeply, Yoongi unable to reciprocate as he felt Taehyung spill inside him, still kissing him messily. And it was a while before anything registered for Yoongi.

Taehyung pulled out gently but Yoongi still winced. He felt Taehyung collapse beside him, but he kept his eyes shut. “You okay?” Taehyung breathed after a moment.

“Mhmm.” Yoongi didn’t open his eyes but he did find Taehyung’s hand. He squeezed tightly. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, hyung. I already miss you now.”

And in that moment, it hit Yoongi. As Yeosu continued its celebrations and Jimin and Jin began their dynasty. Yoongi wanted it too. Wanted what Jin had found with Jimin. He knew he had it. It was right next to him.

Groggily, he turned on his side to face Taehyung fully.

“Come with me,” he breathed. “Come home with me.”

Taehyung seemed surprised, eyes widening. “Hyung,” he began. “I—”

“Don’t think about it,” Yoongi interrupted. “Jin-hyung has Jimin now and Namjoon. He’ll be fine for a while.”

Taehyung was quiet for a moment, thinking. “You really want me to come with you?”

Yoongi nodded immediately, no doubt in his mind. He was desperate to show Taehyung everything he loved about his home. He was desperate to have Taehyung. To be able to do this every day.

Taehyung moved closer to him, holding him tightly despite their sweaty bodies and kissing Yoongi’s forehead. “You sure?”

“I am.”

Taehyung hugged him, the best he could do, given their angle. “I love you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi held on tighter.“I love you too, Taehyung.”

And he meant it. Every word. He knew he always would.

                                                                                                                  Two Years 

It was watching the way Taehyung looked at him, the sun wrapping around him as they both stood at the edge of the cliff. It overlooked the ocean, the jagged rocks and slippery stones. Summer had come and gone and autumn was settling in well once again, colouring the leaves and leaving the ocean hungrier.

It was the way their hands linked together, how it still managed to burn through Yoongi. Loving Taehyung was dancing in a dream, hoping to God you never had to wake up.

“You’re always thinking, hyung,” Taehyung said with a tiny smile, tilting his head and looking at him closely.

His hair was slightly longer and it blew in the wind, sticking up in different directions. He looked so cute and his eyes still managed to pull Yoongi in so well even after two years.

“Just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

Taehyung made a face, letting go of his hand. “That’s disgusting.”

Yoongi slapped his arm lightly, making Taehyung yelp. “Hyung, you always make fun of me when I try and be sweet but when you do it, it’s okay?”

Yoongi shrugged, fighting the urge to laugh. “I don’t make the rules.”

“You actually do,” he deadpanned, pouting as he always did when he didn’t get his way. In a way, Taehyung had seemed to age backwards, becoming more an more boyish and silly. Yoongi loved it, just as he had loved the dangerous side of Taehyung. It was nice like this too, Taehyung always there to hold him whenever he had nightmares of that day in the temple.

Yoongi grabbed the younger’s hand once again. “C’mon, let’s head back before Namjoon asks my mother to send out a search party.”

It was nice having everyone visit. Namjoon along with Seokjin and Jimin and Eun-bi, who was their confirmed heir now were all present in the Min home. As nice as it was though, it got a little stifling having Hoseok and Namjoon together along with Jeongguk and Eun-bi’s antics.

“Can we wait a little longer? Wait for the sun to go down?” Taehyung asked, gripping Yoongi’s hand.

It wasn’t like Yoongi could say no anyway. Loving Taehyung was like that, bending to his every request and his every whim. They weren’t married yet but they were in no rush. Yoongi knew he had Taehyung forever.

Taehyung leaned in closer and placed a small kiss on the corner of Yoongi’s lips. “I love you.”

Yoongi smiled, nudging him. “You’re okay, I guess.”

That earned him a hit to the arm and he was laughing when he said, “I love you too, Taehyung. Always.”