The King's Man

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/13886196.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Category: M/M
Fandom: | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Relationship: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga, Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok | J-
Hope
Character: Jeon Jungkook, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Park Jimin (BTS), Kim
Taehyung | V, Kim Seokjin | Jin, Kim Namjoon | RM, Min Yoongi | Suga
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Violence,
Intrigue, Minor Character Death, Explicit Sexual Content, Story within a
Story, D/S contract, Humiliation, Antiquarian Prose, Implied/Referenced
Torture, Interrogation, Dom Min Yoongi | Suga, Sub Jeon Jungkook,
Threesome - M/M/M
Stats: Published: 2018-03-06 Completed: 2018-03-31 Chapters: 15/15 Words:
34377

The King's Man

by XiaoMaoBao

Summary

When people ask Namjoon what his dissertation is about, he's never really sure exactly how
to tell them he's spent five years writing about The Queerest King in Korean history.

Notes

See the end of the work for notes

 St. Germain's Library, Seoul, 8:00 A.M.
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

It’s the kind of cold that smarts, makes you pull your scarf up further on your face and shove your
hands into your pockets, hunching your shoulders to protect against the wind. It’s the kind of cold
that stiffens doors so you have to use at least half your weight to get them to open. This particular
door is large and heavy, thick dark wood, still damp with the just melted frost from the night before,
big and assuming even to someone as tall as Namjoon. The library is old, built by the Catholic
missionaries in the twenties with terribly inefficient central heating. Nothing like hanok buildings
which are thoroughly warm in the winter and cool in summer despite being built much earlier.
Namjoon is used to old buildings, has spent much of his adulthood in them, but colonial buildings
aren’t his usual fare and he can never quite get used to how simultaneously stuffy and drafty old
western style buildings can be.

The ahjussi at the front desk of the library smiles at him when he bows his head in greeting and
wishes him a pleasant visit. Namjoon makes his way up the large central flight of stairs that open up
on the main floor and then up another flight that’s tucked away off to the side in a deserted corridor
behind a metal door. Like the entrance door downstairs, it stands stiff and reluctant in its doorway
until Namjoon huffs and throws his whole body into it. The soles of his boots clang on the grated
metal steps as he climbs and climbs until he reaches the dimly lit corridor leading to the restricted area
of the library, open only to researchers like himself. He taps the magnetic strip on his ID card against
the special lock, waiting until the red LED flashes green to push the door open. He walks down the
hallway, past the Administrator’s office, into which he ducks briefly to greet Han Gyosu-nim[i] and
drop off the double-shot espresso he picked up for her. She smiles wide at him as she accepts the still
steaming drink and Namjoon passively notes that a streak of her red lipstick is staining one of her
teeth.

“I pulled out the scrolls and books you ordered, Namjoon-ah. Remember to put everything back
when you’re finished.”

The reminder is erroneous but Namjoon smiles and nods his head politely.

He unravels his scarf from his neck, wincing slightly at the sudden exposure of his warm skin to the
cool air around him. There’s a faint dusty smell permeating the reading room, a comfort to Namjoon
who spends all his time working with old documents and books.

Kwang Gyosu-nim, his thesis advisor, had enthusiastically encouraged him to look at the scrolls kept
in the library, going as far as calling in a favor with Han to grant him access to them even though
they dated back as far as the founding of the country. He was lucky to catch them before they would
be moved to the Museum of Cultural History where they would be locked away in a bullet-proof
 vault.

Namjoon settles down in his chair and the old rickety thing creaks slightly under his weight. He
surveys the large rice paper painting set on a stand before him. He lets his hand flatten over the glass
of the frame inside which it has been kept in pristine conditions. The paint is only a little faded,
which is remarkable, considering its age. It’s a portrait of two men, one on a throne and the other
standing leisurely to the former’s side. The distance between them is measured but still comes off as
intimate to him despite their clear difference in rank. Namjoon wonders absently as he traces the pads
of his fingers along the lines of the picture if they knew when they were posing for the painting of
the legacy they would be leaving behind. If they knew their story would mark the beginning of
millions of others, of the founding of a nation that would survive them for centuries to come.

Chapter End Notes

[i] Professor
 part i
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Lord Kim clears his throat as Jungkook settles onto the cushioned seat of his throne, glancing out at
the officials lined up before him for today’s court session.

He hands a purple silk wrapped scroll to Dong Rim who offers it to him with a deep bow. He
accepts the scroll from the eunuch, straightening it out, and reading the first four characters before
tossing it onto the small table before him. It hits the wood with a loud clatter. A number of officials
flinch at the noise.

Report of Defeat.

Jungkook’s patience is wearing thin. Has been worn thin.

“Where are my brothers?”

Taehyung and Jimin step out onto the center floor from where they had been standing among the
officials. They are both still in their armor and Jimin has a splash of deep maroon painted across his
cheekbone. They bow to him. Jungkook scoffs and says nothing, waiting patiently for their report
from the battlefield.

“My King,” Jimin begins, taking a tentative step forward. Jungkook tightens his white knuckled grip
on the arm of his throne, pressing against the grooves of the dragon carved into the gold with his
fingertips.

“Though Silla is small and perhaps the weakest of the Three Kingdoms[i], they have eluded our
control for many weeks, and have caused our forces massive losses.”

He opens his mouth to continue but Jungkook shifts forward, and his attention is locked on the king,
distracting him. He takes a moment until all eyes are on him then picks up the royal seal from the
table in front of him, testing its weight in his hand.

“How long did it take father to seize control of Northern Baekje?”

Jimin turns to Taehyung and they share a look. He turns back to Jungkook,

“Two weeks, your majesty.”

Jungkook nods. He doesn’t lift his eyes from the seal,

“How many ships did we have against their navy?”

“Four to twelve of theirs, sire.”

He nods again. The entire court is silent.

“And yet, his eldest son and the greatest warrior in the family can’t even manage to control some
southern merchants?”

Taehyung makes to speak up, most likely in their brother’s defense, Lord Kim clears his throat from
his place beside Jungkook’s throne. Their eyes meet and he shakes his head curtly and subtly.
Jungkook watches the exchange passively, his impatience growing to a fever pitch in his gut.

“Hyung? Do you have an explanation?”

Jimin sighs and Taehyung cuts him off,

“They had Tang[ii] ships and soldiers fighting with them, my king”

Jungkook slams the seal down on the table, the loud crash abating some of the angry energy coiled
within him.

“Cowards!”
He hasn’t specified who.

Taehyung and Jimin fall to their knees,

“We have failed you, your majesty!”

Lord Kim and a group of other high officials from the north bow as well and cry out in unison,

“Your majesty, please abate your anger, do not blame the princes.”

Nonsense. Jungkook scoffs again. Jimin opens his mouth to add something,

“Our spies have reported that the Silla King has a very young, very brilliant scholar from the far
south advising his generals. They have attributed all of our most stunning defeats and their greatest
victories to his tactical genius. If we can get him from the Silla court, we will be able to crush them
for sure.”

Jungkook sits back on the throne, reclining on the large golden seat. He sighs and feels the
cushioning under him shift with his movement. The room is tense and silent.

“Brother,”

Jimin lowers his head,

“You’re trying to tell me that one single, measly, scholar is the cause of all your failures?”

Taehyung and Jimin drop their gazes again and seem ready to utter out more apologies. Jungkook
has enough and raises a hand.

“Bring him to me. Dead or alive.”

“I should arrive at Lord Min’s manor in two days if I take my horse through the lower mountain
passes.”

Jungkook clasps a hand firmly around Hoseok’s shoulder. Through the black veil covering his face,
he can see him smile.

Hoseok leans closer to him, and he can feel the wispy gauze of the veil tickle his own bare shoulder.
Jungkook pulls his hand back into the steaming water of his bath, shivering despite the water’s high
temperature.

“How would you like me to bring him back? Tied to the back of my horse? Carried in a sack over
my shoulder?”

Jungkook chuckles,

“Use your imagination.”

“Oh, that’s a very dangerous amount of freedom to give me, sire.”

His tone is playful, but Jungkook knows what he says is true. He’s the greatest assassin in the three
kingdoms. Being sent on a mission like this is almost insulting in its banality, it’s ease.

Jungkook chuckles again in response. He freezes when he feels Hoseok lean in, and he can see his
head guard shift and reach for his weapon at the assassin’s proximity to him,

“Are you absolutely sure I can’t just kill him, your majesty?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to glance up at him over his shoulder or lift his veil to know he is wearing a
teasing pout. He hums and nods, leaning back and closing his eyes when he sees Hoseok reach for
his comb out of the corner of his eye,

He sighs contentedly as he runs it gently through his long, inky hair; enjoying the soothing, feather-
like pressure on his scalp before Hoseok ties it up for him in a loose topknot.
“Bring him back, alive.”

“And how exactly am I to have my fun, then?”

Jungkook drags his hands through the water, watching as the flower blooms scenting it bob along the
surface. He picks one up and brings it to his nose; the spicy but earthy, floral aroma making his eyes
flutter closed in satisfaction,

“Use your imagination, Jung Hoseok.”

Hoseok laughs softly and bows to him, before backing out of the bathing chamber. His guard,
Wonhyung steps aside to let him pass, his expression terse and strained. Hoseok steps up to him,
crowding into his space teasingly and the man’s eyes widen in apprehension. The assassin smiles as
he walks around the guard feigning a kiss, and Jungkook swallows down a laugh at the guard’s
obvious discomfort.

Everyone in the palace save for him, his brothers, and the small prince and princess that know
Hoseok as “Uncle Seokie” are absolutely terrified of the assassin, and understandably so. It is only
natural, after all, to fear death.

Jungkook knows the nobles hate him. He knows that they resent him for raising taxes on them and
demanding tributes to fight in his conquest efforts. He knows that when the nobles conspired to give
him the crown instead of Jimin or even Taehyung who were older and successful army generals in
their own rights, that they had wanted to weaken the throne and strengthen their own control over
Goryeo politics. He had been banking on them underestimating him, and so had his father, which
was why he had trained him secretly in politics before he had died. Jungkook knows very well that
the nobles fear him.

Royal political affairs are a delicate balancing game, and Jungkook has enemies to keep at bay both
beyond the country borders and inside the palace walls.

Lord Kim is Taehyung’s cousin from his mother’s side; the Kims are perhaps the most powerful
Northern family, second only to the Jeons. When they were all young boys learning to ride horses,
and recite from Sun Tzu[iii], Jungkook knew him as Seokjin hyung-nim. He’s Lord Kim now, and
he’s prime minister.

Even though they are cousins, in fact, especially since they are cousins, Jungkook would be a fool to
trust him completely, but he can at least be sure of his support to the crown so long as the crown
continues to support him. The Kims have flourished since holding the Minister seat and Seokjin
would be mad to risk that influence over petty ambitions.

This is why Jungkook has called him to the library.

Seokjin stands on the other side of the bookshelf across from him and unravels a scroll of bounded
bamboo slips. Jungkook huffs.

He can see past the scrolls piled on the shelf that he is trailing a ringed finger along the elegant
calligraphy of the palace scholars. He looks up, and their eyes meet and Seokjin offers him a half
smile and subtle bow of his head.

“Lord Kim,”

Although Jungkook can’t see everything, he notices how he shifts slightly, and in the dull silence of
the room, he can hear fabric rustling as Seokjin reaches into his sleeve to retrieve what he’s
summoned him for.

It is a small slip of fabric, and he slides it over to the king through the gaps between the scroll piles.

Jungkook takes it and holds it up to a hanging lantern to inspect before sliding it into his own sleeve.

Very well.

“You are sure about this, Lord Kim?”

“Yes, your majesty, these are the families that plan to rally around your exiled cousin in Mohe[iv] to
usurp the throne.”
Jungkook nods. Seokjin has no reason to lie to him. Not if he values his life.

He shifts again, and Jungkook is about to dismiss him,

“How is Lady Kim?”

The prime minister sputters a little, blinking rapidly at him before answering,

“She-she’s well, sire. Thank- thank you.”

Hmm.

“Do give my greetings to my sister, cousin.”

“If it pleases your majesty, it will be done.”

His response is stilted and formal. Jungkook wonders absently what trouble may be brewing in their
paradise.

“Sire,”

Jimin stands in the doorway of the armory, stance stiff, hands clasped behind his back and his feet
planted defensively onto the ground. He bows.

“Don’t stand on ceremony, hyung, please.”

Jungkook orders Dong Rim, who is currently fitting him in his training armor, away.
Jimin sighs, and Jungkook tosses a sheathed sword his way. He catches it effortlessly, pulling the
blade out and contemplating it for a moment before swinging it.

They both remain silent, listening to the pitched whistle of the sword’s song. It was their father’s.

“Hyung, you understand why I had to reprimand you and-”

“If I may be candid, brother,”

“Always.”

“You are never to hesitate to show your anger or disappointment. You must be strong and resolute
before the court, brother. Don’t let them see weakness or indecision lest you never be able to control
them. We have so much to protect, your majesty; we must bring Father’s dream to fruition. You…
did the right thing,”

Jungkook lets out the breath he was holding with a quiet whoosh, his muscles relaxing at his
brother’s words.

“Taehyung and I promised Father we would protect you, but you must do what you can to protect
yourself. Leave the conquest to us, we will be sure to unite all three kingdoms under you, your
majesty.”

Jungkook smiles and steps closer to Jimin,

“Not if that southern dog, Min, continues to undermine us,”

Jimin returns the smile, gaze lowering to contemplate their father’s blade. He taps idly at the jewels
embedded in the hilt as he forms his reply,

“Lord Min is a brilliant tactician, but he’s also ambitious. He can’t achieve anything in that weak
Silla king’s court. I’m sure we’ll have no problem convincing him over to our side of things.”
Jungkook nods, he’s considered this. Whether he was working for the enemy or not, it would be a
fool move to kill such genius without seeing if they could use him first.

“I’ve sent Hoseok to bring him here.”

Jimin raises an eyebrow at this, looking vaguely surprised to hear the news.

“I thought you would send me or Taehyung. Are you sure sending Mi Geom[v] is wise? He’s an
assassin, not a diplomat.”

“He’s also the swiftest horse rider in the kingdom. Besides, he knows not to disappoint me with
failure.”

The general shrugs lightly, knowing better than to argue further with his younger brother.

"The Guard is ready for you, sire.”

Jungkook waves at him in dismissal and gestures to Dong Rim to continue dressing him for training.

"The Princess Youngha agissi[vi] and Prince Youngho seja joha[vii] have arrived, your majesty.”

Jungkook clears his throat to signal Dong Rim to allow them into his study. Youngha follows after
her younger brother who runs forward, stumbling a little when he trips on one of the silk ties on his
robe that seem to have come undone. He giggles sweetly as he crashes into his father’s arms.

Jungkook kisses first Youngho’s temple, then his sister’s.

“What have you been up to, little rice cake? You’ve been playing nice and working on your studies,
correct? Not giving the palace aides any trouble?”
“Of course, he has, Father,”

Youngho giggles at his older sister’s interjection and squirms in their father’s hold. Jungkook tugs
Youngha into his side,

“And what of you, Lotus? I heard you were being difficult and told Court Lady Seon that you refuse
to learn needlework.”

“What do I need it for? I’m going to be a general.”

Jungkook huffs a laugh. So much like her mother.

“The Queen would be proud to hear you say that.”

Both children look wistful for a moment. A warm breeze blows through the study. The candle flames
all flicker, leaving shadows to dance across his children’s’ faces.

“Papa? What was she like? Our mother?”

Jungkook shifts Youngho over to the other side of his lap to make room for Youngha. They both
gaze up at him with wide curious eyes and he feels a pang in his chest,

“The Queen was…” he looks off into the distance, remembering,

“She bullied me as soon as they brought her into the palace as Crown Princess.”

They both laugh and Youngho sleepily burrows his head against the silk of his father’s robe.
Jungkook sighs and pulls them both closer, he can feel the soft reassuring beats of their hearts against
his ribs.

“But she loved you both, so much.”

Youngha sniffs, and when he glances down at her, her eyes are watery. He leans down to kiss the tip
of her nose. It’s just like the queen’s.

“Your mother was the greatest queen a king could ever have.”

At that, the princess snorts, “She was only queen for three years, Papa, please.”

“Still-”

“Your majesty, I regret to interrupt, but the princess and crown prince are needed for their baths.”

“No!” Youngho shrieks, leaping from his father’s lap to hide under his work desk shifting the
wooden furniture with a thud. His older sister squares her shoulders,

“Papa? You’ll come see us and tell us more about Mother later, right?”

“Of course, Lotus.”

She nods resolutely, and crouches to coax her brother from under the desk,

“Come on, or I won’t share any of the sweets Court Lady Seon gave me today!”

This seems to convince him, because he zooms from his hiding place and out the room, past a
surprised Dong Rim who clambers to chase after him. Youngha bows to her father before turning
and leaving, and he’s glad that at least one of his children has some manners.

Jungkook sits in the empty court room, looking over scrolls sent in to him from officials. Budgets,
taxes, prisoner pardon requests, all routine documents he’s had to go through hundreds of times
before.
“Dong Rim-ah,”

“Your majesty?”

“Bring my-”

There is a commotion outside the court hall doors, and a guard rushes in looking winded. He bows
hastily towards Jungkook before leaning into Dong Rim to whisper something to him. The head
palace eunuch pales in the dim lantern light.

“Your majesty, Mi Geom has returned to the palace.”

So soon?

“Mi Geom? Send Hoseok in then.”

There is more whispering and shuffling around before the aforementioned rounds the corridor. He
bows hastily, gripping his side. He’s injured.

“How-”

Hoseok lets out a huff of laughter that sounds surprised even to Jungkook’s ears.

“I’m not sure myself. It’s been years since someone has been able to land a blow on me. He was far
more exciting to kidnap than I expected.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow raises of its own accord.

“Tell me more,”

The royal assassin winces,

 “I would love to, but I am due to visit the physician, and he’s asked to see you, sire. Normally I
wouldn’t entertain such nonsense from a prisoner, but I think… this particular gentleman might… be
of interest to your majesty.”

Jungkook quirks his head to the side, and Dong Rim barely swallows down a disapproving sigh.

He and Hoseok share an amused look before the latter bows with a little difficulty and makes his
way out of the court room.

“Dong Rim-ah,”

“Yes, my king?”

“Bring me some wine, please. And let my guard know I will be on my way down to the Lateral
Courts[viii] ”

“Right away, your majesty.”

Jungkook watches as the eunuch turns and leaves, then rolls up the scroll he’s been looking over.

Well,

this should prove very interesting.

Chapter End Notes

[i] Three Kingdoms Era Korea, circa 57 BC to 668 AD consisted of Goguryeo (later
Goryeo), Baekje, and Silla

[ii] Tang Dynasty, Modern day Southern China

[iii] Sun Tzu, The Art of War

[iv] A Tungusic peoples north of Goryeo, near Manchu

[v] Mi Geom, 美劍, meaning “Beautiful Sword” is Hoseok’s professional name as

Royal Assassin

[vi] Honorific used for young palace princesses

[vii] Honorific used for the crown prince

[viii] Where royal prisoners are taken for interrogation within the palace
 part ii
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

In some ways, he is everything Jungkook expected. In others, he’s absolutely nothing he thought the
military tactician would be.

Lord Min of Silla is dressed in fine silk as is typical of the noble class in the southern state, but his
robes are almost exclusively silver and black, unlike the bright, vibrant fare his peers typically wear.
The guards mustn’t have had the time to confiscate his clothing. His hair is pulled high into the usual
top-knot style, but he has bound it with a simple fine leather strap and sleek silver pin instead of the
elaborate jeweled hair binds or silk hair covers that people of his rank normally sport. He’s compact
in stature, neither short or tall, but average. His head is held high, despite the small bleeding cuts here
and there on his lip and cheek presumably inflicted by the interrogators. Min has been chained to his
cell wall, but on his face, he wears a knowing, triumphant smirk.

When the guards open the gate to allow Jungkook in, the lord is let down and forced into a bow. He
raises his head and stares Jungkook directly in the eye.

It’s unsettling.

He doesn’t need to dwell on it for long however,

“How dare you! Lower your gaze!”

His head is forced down, and Jungkook catches a low chuckle from him. This man must be mad.
Completely insane.

The jail cell is damp and poorly lit. Jungkook watches as a bead of sweat rolls across the man’s brow
before dropping off the tip of his nose.

He clears his throat,

“Min Yoongi, I finally have the pleasure of meeting you in person,” He quirks his head to the side,
“You’ll forgive me for my lack of hospitality.”
Min smiles wide,

“Worry not, your majesty, I’ve been treated with nothing but care and kindness since entering your
palace.”

Jungkook wants to laugh at the incredulous situation he’s found himself in.

“You can imagine why you’ve been brought here.”

“Yes, I did anticipate an invitation for a visit, your majesty. I’m honored.”

His eyes roll on their own accord at the man’s retort,

“Enough humor, I’m going to be forthright, Lord Min. I have an offer to make you.”

Yoongi glances at the guards holding him down significantly, then back to him.

“Leave us.”

His personal guard, Wonhyung makes a noise of protest,

“Your majesty-”

“If I can’t even handle some trumped up bookworm from the south, I certainly do not deserve to be
king, Wonhyung-ah.”

He seems to want to argue further, but instead grunts in acquiescence,

“If you wish, sire.”

Jungkook’s gaze is on the prisoner, but he notices the other guards in the periphery of his vision
hesitate and look to Wonhyung before clearing out of the cell.

“I’ll be just outside if your majesty needs me.”

He nods as he watches him leave and lock the barred gate behind him.

Min smiles, wide and toothy,

“Finally, some privacy.”

Jungkook suppresses a shudder at his tone, and takes a moment to get a better look at him. So, this is
the man that managed to land a blow on the greatest fighter in the Three Kingdoms? He finds this
hard to believe. He definitely doesn’t look like much though he does look like he can hold his own
during a fight, but this wouldn’t have been any ordinary fight. This was Jung Hoseok. Mi Geom,
“Beautiful Sword” Chief of Goryeo’s Secret Sword Order of royal assassins

Min seems to be studying him with the same intensity that Jungkook is, and something about it
disturbs him.

“Lower your gaze.”

He merely raises a challenging eyebrow,

“I won’t say it again, Min. I don’t know how the Silla king carries affairs in his court, but you’re in
my kingdom now.”

The lord simply scoffs and levels him with yet another intense stare,

“Ah yes. The great grandson of Gwanggaeto the Conqueror, king of mighty Goryeo. I wonder just
how mighty you must be, your majesty, that you’ve yet to defeat me.”

Anger, hot and embarrassed, flares in Jungkook’s gut, and he lets out an incredulous laugh,
“You really must be mad.”

The captive lord merely shrugs.

“Maybe so, your majesty, but you need me still.”

He’s arrogant, insufferable, and altogether impossible.

He’s beautiful, Jungkook’s mind also offers up unhelpfully.

But worst of all, he’s right.

It’s infuriating.

Jungkook upends his work desk in frustration, the heavy wood making a loud crash as scrolls and
ink pots and brushes are scattered across the floor.

“Please, your majesty, ease your anger!”

Dong Rim hurries in, bent over and prostrate as he rushes to pick up after his mess. He holds a hand
up to halt him, and shakes his head.

“I need to be alone,”

He stares at him for a moment, probably debating whether it is worth it to fight him on this.
Thankfully he chooses to pick his battles, and backs out of the room.
(“You need me still”)

A cool wind rattles his bones, but there is no draft in his well heated room.

It’s simply preposterous.

Jungkook reaches for the carafe of rice wine on the serving table to his side and downs a large gulp,
the liquid hot like embers as it goes down.

(“I would be more than happy to join your majesty’s court.”)

The drink has made him warm from the inside out, but still, he shivers.

Jungkook slumps back against the back of his seat and rubs at his temples to fight off the oncoming
headache.

It’s absolutely ridiculous.

(“For a price, of course.”)

He sighs in frustration, patience perpetually worn thin.

His father’s dying wish yet rings in the empty spaces of his mind, an eternal echo, a refrain.

“Unite the kingdoms, my son. You and your brothers. Bring all the land to your feet. Never forget
the plight of your people, Jungkook-ah. Bring them peace and stability.”

And he will. Nothing can stand in his way.

“Dong Rim-ah! Summon my brothers, the princes.”

Jungkook is prepared to do whatever it takes to realize his father’s dream.

Even kill Min Yoongi.

(“You, your majesty. I want you.”)

The cell is the same as the last time he’s visited it. Nothing’s changed except that Min has been
stripped of his robes and his thick black hair falls freely around his shoulders. His white underclothes
are splattered with red, and Jungkook cringes to realize that all of it might not be his alone.

He doesn’t like to be wrong, but he’s been wrong about Min Yoongi.

The best interrogators in the kingdom are right in this palace, and Jungkook isn’t being arrogant or
boastful when he thinks so. They are.

Yet Min Yoongi has been with them for the better part of four days and has yet to reveal any
worthwhile information.

He would be impressed if he wasn’t so fed up.

One of the guards punches him hard in the gut, and he doubles over with the impact but otherwise
makes no show of the blow affecting him. The guard hits him again, but all the man does is laugh in
his face, teeth and lips crimson red with blood.

Jungkook’s skin itches under the layers of his robe. He feels hot in the drafty cell.

“Enough.”
The guards step away, and Wonhyung gestures at them to follow him out. Both men stare each other
down as the cell gate is locked shut yet again. Min speaks first,

“So, I hear you’ve ordered my death,” he feigns upset, “That’s not very nice. Especially after I’ve
come all this way to see you, your majesty.”

Jungkook’s hands clench into fists at his side. He breaks their eye contact, unnerved by the weight of
it.

“We’ll be sure to make it a public spectacle. Show the world what happens to people who challenge
Goryeo.”

“All that for me? I’m flattered.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes in annoyance. He knows very well that he can be difficult himself from time
to time, but this man is on a whole other plane.

Lord Min’s resistance is something the king has never seen before. He’s no stranger to the
interrogations and torture that take place in his palace’s Lateral Courts; he’s even taken part in some.
Jungkook has never seen someone so unaffected by their tactics before. He’s clearly in pain, clearly
injured with a foot practically in the grave, yet he hasn’t uttered a single word of defeat or
compliance and has yet to reveal the tactical secrets of the Silla king.

“I’ve heard tell of a mysterious military manual that has afforded you numerous victories. Seeing
how you’ve remained silent all this time, I’m beginning to believe it doesn’t exist.”

The lord tilts his head to the side in interest,

“Oh, it exists alright. Not physically, no, I burned every single copy before you sent your dog after
me, but I still have it. Here.”

He taps his temple.

Interesting. This is the most Min has said on the subject.

“Is that so, Lord Min? If there’s no physical copy, then it’s no worry. Since you refuse to comply
with our requests, I see no problem in having it buried along with you.”

He laughs, the sound raspy and full of grit,

“You wouldn’t dare. You’re too smart, too curious, too ambitious. You’d never let such knowledge
out of your grasp.”

Of course, this is where he gets all his confidence. It shouldn’t be a problem.

“Where you find the audacity to speak on me like this, I will never know.”

It wouldn’t be a problem.

If he wasn’t right.

“Perhaps I’m wrong.” He shrugs, “No matter. I’m glad your majesty has taken the time to visit me in
this humble predicament. I have to warn you of something.”

Jungkook wants to ignore him. He doesn’t want to justify the presumptuous lord’s nonsense with his
attention.

Yet,

“Speak. Don’t waste my time, I have things to do.”

Min smiles,

“What? You have other engagements? Not a banquet to celebrate your birthday I hope?”
How could he have known about the banquet? Jungkook’s interest is piqued. He hesitates, but his
curiosity gets the better of him and he asks anyway,

“What do you know?”

“Nothing really, just that I might outlive you yet, your majesty.”

Jungkook is about to respond, but is cut off by Wonhyung,

“Enough! Enough of this Insolence, this is the King you are speaking to!”

Guards file into the cell to restrain the prisoner, and he grunts when one pushes him roughly against
the wall.

“Forgive my candidness, your majesty. Enjoy your banquet!”

Jungkook is on edge and expectedly so. He’s been torn between calling off the banquet and ignoring
Min’s warnings. Perhaps he’d only said it to unsettle him, he seems to enjoy doing that, but all things
considered, it wouldn’t be entirely a surprise if there was a plot against him. He knows very well that
sitting on the throne put an attractive target on his head, and there was always his cousin, Seo Hoon,
in Mohe to consider…

But he’s not a coward, and if someone wants to challenge his claim to the crown then they should do
so to his face. At least that way Jungkook can have the pleasure of seeing their face when he plunges
his sword through their gut himself.

The festivities go on as planned. For special precaution, he has ordered the crown prince and his
sister off to bed early, but made no other efforts to thwart any attempt on his life.

Taehyung, Jimin and their mothers the Dowager Consorts as well as the Queen Mother are all in
attendance in honor of his 28th birthday feast.
Invitation to the banquet has been extended to all eligible members of the aristocracy, and it seems
everyone is in attendance.

Very good.

There is something to be said for the pomp and circumstance of the event. Not a single plate goes
empty nor cup go unfilled. Dancers have been brought out, hand-picked courtesans wearing fine
gauzy robes that flutter through the air as they move in billowing wisps. The atmosphere is languid
and intoxicated and Jungkook feels his eyes droop sleepily. He fingers absentmindedly at the strip of
fabric folded neatly into his sleeve,

Lee

Song

Heo

Cha

He waits. The nobles have gifted him with a sword dance.

The drum beats echo his own heart and pound heavily while the smoke of incense is profuse in the
air. The swords are wooden. Jungkook grips at the arm of his throne, fingers pressed against the
dragon carving in the gold.

The dance is magnificent in its own right, filled with elaborate acrobatics and dramatic movements

His eyes are on the dancer in the far back of the formation, whose moves are the most graceful and
effortless. The one in the center, dressed in blood red with the mask of a black dragon meant to be
the main focus can’t compare to this more humbly dressed dancer’s lightness of foot. He raises his
own sword and Jungkook can see the lantern light reflect off the side of the blade. He glances to
Jimin who meets his eyes, nods, and then gestures to Taehyung.

The drums beat faster and there is a pause in the dance. Jungkook leans over to ask Dong Rim to
refill his cup, but when he’s turned back, there is a sword lodged in the backrest of his throne and the
echo of his brothers’ voices calling his name still ringing in his ear. It’s not exactly how he figured it
would all go down, but he’s not complaining that he’s come out of it alive.
The entire banquet is thrown into chaos, Jimin and Taehyung leap forward from their stations and
Wonhyung throws his entire body to shield him. Jungkook strikes the assassin first, sending him
back, but his stance is strong and he is an exceptionally well-trained fighter. The king is quick,
however, and with training of his own, is able to dislodge the sword from his throne and swing at the
assassin. The blow lands at his ribs and Jungkook twists the blade, but is careful not to damage any
vital organs. They need to capture this man alive. As he’s managed to disable him, his brothers,
Wonhyung, and the rest of the guard have time to surround him. He falls to his knees, grabbing at his
side and blood spills forward from his lips.

Jimin notices his dire state first and rushes to hold him up and press against the wound but it soon
becomes apparent how useless this is. The man’s complexion has gone white and his veins bulge
grotesquely like purple spider webs on his skin. Blood and foam bubbles forward from his mouth
when he opens it, and he lets out a groan before going rigid as steel in the general’s arms.

Jungkook is staring his death right in its glassy, lifeless eyes. That could have been you rings in his
ears with deafening intensity.

Breathless, he takes a minute to glance over at his banquet guests. Almost everyone has taken cover,
but Jungkook can see that Lee, Song, Heo and Cha all sit still as jade statues in their seats, white
knuckled grips around their cups of wine.

It is in that moment that Jungkook realizes:

Min Yoongi has just saved his life.

“How did you know?”

Min chuckles softly, eyes drifting off to stare at a far corner of his cramped cell,

“No one ever really knows, your majesty. But if I wanted to kill you, I’d suppose your birthday
banquet would have been the perfect place to do it.”

Jungkook is stunned.
“What exactly is it you want?”

A pause.

“I told you, your majesty. You know what I want.”

Jungkook will be forgiven if he loses his temper; he’s nearly died today,

“Say something reasonable, damn it, Min Yoongi!”

All the same, Jungkook orders his release the next day.

Youngho takes after Jungkook in looks but mostly has his mother’s disposition where his sister is the
reverse.

Youngha isn’t trusting or very open with those she doesn’t know well; she usually adopts a cold,
reserved demeanor when she’s not familiar with someone.

Naturally, Jungkook wants an explanation as to why that’s not the case with Min Yoongi.

He’s not even sure who allowed the princess into his library so late in the evening when she should
have been getting ready for bed, but there she is, sat on a reading table with her short legs swinging
freely off the edge. When he draws near, he can hear her reciting from Attack of Stratagems[i]

“Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence
consists in breaking the enemy's subsistence without fighting-”

“Resistance.”
“Sorry?”

“Resistance, not subsistence. Otherwise, very well done, your highness.”

“What does the passage mean, Seonsaengnim?”

Seonsaengnim. The Goryeo king bristles.

“It means that the best generals defeat their enemies by surrender and not through siege.”

“Is that how you defeated my papa and uncles?”

Jungkook clears his throat,

“Dong Rim-ah, I think the princess is long past due for her bath. What could Court Lady Seon be so
occupied with that she should lose track of her ward?”

“But, Papa-”

“Off you go, Youngha-yah.”

Lord Min huffs a laugh that sounds suspiciously fond and Jungkook feels his face heat up. The
princess hops down from her place sat atop the table with the help of the southern lord. She curtsies
politely and delicately before skipping off with Dong Rim to find her attending court lady. Once they
are both alone in the library, Min speaks,

“She’s rather accomplished for her age, your majesty.”

Jungkook grunts noncommittally, unimpressed by their fast-formed amity.

 “I understand that your majesty is very busy, so I thank you for finding the time to meet with your
humble servant,”

“Cut the nonsense, Min.”

Yoongi sighs and his gaze drops to the king’s lips. Jungkook begins to fidget under the scrutiny.

“It wouldn’t do for a king to mistreat his retainers so. No matter, I have requested to meet with your
majesty to discuss an important political issue.”

Now he’s got his attention.

“Get on with it,”

“I’ve been thinking on your predicament with the nobles. It’s truly too bad you weren’t able to
interrogate the assassin before he died. He’s taken the names of those that wanted you dead with him
to the afterlife…”

“We’ve rounded up and interrogated every single one of the dancers and all who interacted with
them on that night and not one person can give us any useful information. Those heaven forsaken
nobles have slipped out of my grasp yet again.”

Min pauses, and studies him contemplatively,

“There’s something about it, your majesty. Somehow, I don’t think what happened at your banquet
was just the work of those lords alone.”

Jungkook sighs. That is precisely what he’s afraid of.

Chapter End Notes

[i] Attack by Stratagems, The Art of War by Sun Tzu
 part iii
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The sky is clear and serenity blue, the sun high, casting everything in warmth. The perfume of
jasmine tickles at Jungkook’s nose as he reclines beneath the shadow of the canopy held above him
by two palace attendants. Youngha sits by Court Lady Seon, eyes drowsy and heavily lidded as the
latter patiently explains the basics of needlework to her. Youngho is practicing his calligraphy under
a pavilion by the small pond on the palace grounds, the blue-black ink staining his robes, streaked
across his face, and smudged all over his small fingers. He struggles to hold the brush steady as he
continues to write the same character again and again;

Wang.

The strings of the king’s gayageum release notes that twang and vibrate in the warm spring air,
pulled taut and wiry as they are carried along by the slow, languid breeze. Jungkook takes in a
breath. It tastes sweet and fresh.

In the distance, he can hear the sound of hurried footsteps crunch against the gravel paving the
grounds of the royal garden. The noise is out of place here, too frantic and rushed, a disruption of the
careful oasis of peace and calm around them. Dong Rim startles from where he stands overlooking
the young crown prince’s work.

“Your Majesty!”

It’s one of the junior palace attendants, brought in when he was even younger than Youngho is now,
thus grown to be 16 years of age. He’s winded, and bent over once he reaches the royal party,
dropping clumsily into a bow the second he approaches. Jungkook gestures to him to speak,

“Your Majesty, the guard is coming to escort you and the royal family out of the palace, Lord Seo
has raised an army from the north and they are marching on the capitol!”

Jungkook starts, leaping up from where he is seated,

What?
“My cousin has done what?”

As he’s asking the question, Taehyung and a number of soldiers, guards, and armed palace aides
make their way over to the group.

“Brother, we must hurry and get you and the Crown Prince out of the palace.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your majesty-”

“I said I’m not going anywhere, what kind of king abandons his palace? His throne?”

“Hoon has raised an army of the Mohe and is marching south on the capitol. The Baekje lords have
given him free passage through their southern lands and he has the support of the Houyan[i] king to
open a two-front attack and usurp the throne, Jungkook-ah, we don’t have time for this!”

Jungkook overlooks how he’s lowered his speech to him in his panic and holds a hand up to stop
Taehyung from continuing; he needs a moment to think.

“Has the Queen Mother been warned?”

His brother nods,

“Jimin hyung sent out a rider to warn her to extend her stay at the Anguksa[ii] temple with our
mothers instead of coming back here.”

Good.

“Summon Lord Min to the Armory immediately, Brother.”

“Your majesty, but-”

“Please,”

Taehyung bites his lip and nods, turning to relay his orders.

Jungkook’s mind is railing; a million thoughts running through his head. He’s been expecting
something like to happen. Jimin had dispatched spies to watch the four noble families involved in the
plot against him, and they’d caught wind of a coup some time ago, but he hadn’t anticipated it to
come so soon.

“Dong Rim-ah,”

“Your majesty,”

“Arrange for the princess and crown prince to have safe passage to meet their grandmother and
great-aunts in Pongrinsan”

“Right away, your majesty,”

He watches as he hurriedly ushers the children away. Youngho is still too young to fully understand
what is going on but he seems to have picked up on the adults’ urgency enough to look a little
spooked. Youngha, however, has put on a brave face and stops to kiss her father on the cheek before
taking her brother’s hand and following their attendants. His heart pangs as he stares at their
retreating forms.

Jungkook then turns to Wonhyung who stands tense beside him,

“It is time for a war council.”

“The generals were right to ask your majesty to leave the palace.”

Jungkook is taken aback. That was not at all what he’d been expecting to hear from Min Yoongi. In
a way, he’s almost disappointed that he would advise him to do something so cowardly.

“Need I remind you? I’m no weak fool like the Silla king, I do not run from battle.”

Yoongi smiles softly,

“It’s not so much running from battle as… drawing the battle out of the city. Your cousin has already
shown his hand as a terrible soldier by attempting to lay siege to a walled city, but your majesty need
not endanger his people by leaving them as sitting ducks. Seo will want to kill you himself, and if
you lure him out by faking a retreat, he will be sure to give chase,”

Jungkook can feel the tips of his ears heating up in the aftermath of his outburst, of course a tactician
as brilliant as Min would never tell him to run from a fight.

Furthermore, he’s right, on all accounts. He can’t allow Seo to lay ruin to his capitol just because he
wants to show his bravado. Beside him, Jimin looks impressed,

“Lord Min is right, if your majesty makes to travel east and draw Hoon out that way, it will buy time
for the princess and crown prince to quietly make their escape west. Our sentries have notified us that
Seo has about 30,000 footmen and 10,000 cavalries with him, we do not want to confront them
while constrained by city walls.”

Somehow, Jungkook is able to find humor in the situation, sardonic as it may be,

“Perhaps there is something to that fabled military manual after all.”

This wrings another smile from Yoongi and Jungkook chooses to ignore the fortifying quality it has
on his anxious heart,

“But of course, there is, your majesty. I wrote it.”

Damn.

Taehyung’s deep laugh rumbles through the silent air of the armory, but Jungkook can barely hear it
over the rushing in his ears. The night in the damp, tiny cell down in the Lateral Courts come
unwelcomed into Jungkook’s mind,

(“I want you. All of you.”)

“Hyung,” Taehyung quietens down to listen to his command, “Take 40,000 men through the
northern mountain pass, and Jimin hyung and I will move along the Southern River to meet his army
on the other side. We should be able to push forward and trap them in the middle.”

His brother nods, picking up his helmet from the bench where they’ve laid out the tactical map and
putting it on before clasping both him and Jimin on the shoulders and leaving. Jungkook calls out
after him,

“Brother,”

“Yes, my king?”

“Whatever you do, do not let them retreat. I want Seo brought to me alive.”

“Yes, your majesty.”

Once gone, the guards at the heavy Armory door shut it behind him with a thud. Yoongi speaks
again,

“Your majesty, if I may,”

He nods, and gestures at the Silla lord to continue,

“I think it’s time to summon the Sword Order and send them south to Northern Baekje.”

He’s right, yet again. Ever since their annexation into Goryeo under his father’s rule, the nobility of
the Northern Baekje region have bristled under their control. The attempt on his life and the collusion
with his cousin was only part of their long-standing efforts to return control of their lands to the
Baekje kingdom. Jungkook would be having none of it. He picks up a brush and dips the hairs into
the well of ink on the bench, then writes out four characters: Lee, Heo, Song, Cha.

“Wonhyung, give my command to Mi Geom and the Sword Order to bring these lords to me on my
order.”

“Immediately, sire.” and with that, he’s gone as well.

He looks to Jimin who nods his head to signal that he is ready to ride out, and Jungkook reaches for
his helmet. Out of the corner of his vision he can see Min looking through the armor and swords,

“Those aren’t toys, Min, stick to your ink and brush.”

Yoongi turns around and scoffs, eyebrows knitting together. He almost looks offended.

“I don’t only know how to copy over Confucian classics, your majesty. I will see you on the
battlefield.”

Jungkook refuses to be impressed.

The king has never liked executions.

During his reign, he’s only ever attended one; of a disgraced lord that tried to assassinate Taehyung
over a grudge. He avoids them if he can.

Not today.
Jungkook hasn’t seen his cousin in almost 20 years. The guards bring him out first. If he is being
honest, he really finds it such a pity that they have to meet again like this. No one outside of the
palace could possibly understand the way lust for the throne can tear families apart. It may be
morbid, however, but Jungkook is almost glad Seo Hoon is only his cousin. His father has had to kill
his own brother to protect his crown.

When Hoon and Jungkook were only children, and their fathers only royal princes, they had been
attached at the hip. Jimin and Taehyung were too old to play with him, instead busy learning to ride
horses and training with their swords, but Hoon was born the same year as him. They were close,
and then one day, they were not. His father was made Crown Prince and Hoon’s father raised an
army to rebel. Jungkook still remembers the way Hoon’s wails rang through the palace walls the day
his father died.

Looking at him now, Jungkook feels no victory, only loss. Taehyung and Jimin also look upset to
lose a cousin.

He walks to his death with the dignity of a prince he was never afforded while alive. As is the
punishment for traitors, his body will not be buried intact.

The drum beats hang heavy in the air, the sun glares down on them in apathetic judgement. His
cousin falls to his knees before the block, and the executioner prepares his sword. He waits for a
signal from the king. Jungkook raises his hand and nods to Jimin, who gives the order.

For a moment, Jungkook and Hoon share a look. And then, he’s gone.

Nausea rolls in his gut, and Jungkook has to clutch at the arm of his throne, presses his fingertips
against the carving of a dragon in the gold.

He doesn’t stay for the other executions. He can’t imagine anyone would blame him.

Jungkook finds himself completely submerged in a warm perfumed bath. The sound of Dong Rim’s
voice is distorted through the water, but he knows he’s calling for him,

“What?”

“It’s Lord Min, your majesty, he requests an audience,”

Dong Rim sounds expectedly annoyed on his behalf at the lord’s presumptuousness, but Jungkook is
in a generous mood and ready to make allowances. His cousin has died today.

“Send him in,”

He’s asked the court ladies to add cherry blossom to his bathwater today. The smell is calming in its
own way, and Jungkook’s eyes feel heavy and his blood seems to run in his veins like honey.

“Your majesty,”

“I’m taking a bath, you know,”

“And you paint a very pretty picture doing so, sire, but that is not why I came. Your bathhouse is the
only place private enough for this discussion.”

Jungkook wishes that in the months Min Yoongi has joined his retainer, he’d have grown used to his
way of speaking to him, but it still causes heat to hum below the surface of his skin. He waves a
hand leisurely to let Yoongi know to continue,

“It’s about your cousin,”

“Enough about my cousin, he’s not a day in the ground and people already want to-”

“Lord Kim, sire.”

Jungkook’s heart stutters in his chest and anxiety curls and grips round his throat like a vice. He
remains silent.

“I didn’t want to bring it up so soon after the battle, but Lord Kim visited Seo in his cell last night.”

Jungkook thinks he might choke.

“He’s done what?”

“It wouldn’t be wise to make a matter out of it so early, but I thought I should warn you.”

Perhaps he’s right.

“Thank you, Min.”

“And sire?”

“Yes, Lord Min?”

“I was being serious, earlier.”

“About what?”

“About you being pretty, I mean.”

In the aftermath of his cousin’s rebellion, Jungkook has only watched his control over the court
strengthen and solidify with time. The nobles have seen the devastation that a fractured government
has wreaked over the land, and have been witness to Jungkook’s resoluteness. No one will ever say
he’ll never be like his father again.

Jungkook knows, inside, that this isn’t solely thanks to himself. A king is only as strong as the people
he keeps around him.

Which is why he’s decided to keep him around.

Which is why he agreed to his preposterous terms in the first place, one year ago in that dark and
tepid jail cell.

Which is why-

“I said I would make you the greatest king the world has ever seen. I will.”

Jungkook has never had hands other than Dong Rim’s undress him. Dong Rim has been his
attendant since his birth, and his touch is light and detached when he helps the king dress and
undress in the morning and night. He doesn’t think it’s fair to compare, though, because this touch,
these hands plan to ruin him.

“I said I could put all the world at your feet.”

Jungkook has only been bare before three people, not counting the time he ran stark naked out of his
bath one time when he was a child and thought he saw a dragonfly in the water. Two of those people
were palace attendants, one of them being Dong Rim, who for all intents and purposes has been like
a brother to him. The other, was Court Lady Hong and it was only because she had been called in to
change the bed sheets on the night Youngha was conceived.

“I said I would do all that, and ask for only one thing in return, your majesty,”

Jungkook has only been kissed by one person before. Her name was Donghui and she was the most
beautiful woman Jungkook had ever laid eyes on that wasn’t his mother. Her eyes were shaped like
persimmon pits and her cheeks were always tinted with crushed chrysanthemum. When she sang,
Jungkook’s heart felt weightless. Donghui was his first love and her kisses were sweet as the honey
sweetened cakes his mother used to order for him when he was good and worked diligently on his
studies. His kisses lick like flames. He can’t even imagine comparing.

“I want it all, every part of you. I want you. I want you to submit to me.”

“You can’t just demand that of me.”

“That may be so, but the world is a very big place, my king, and you’re the only thing precious
enough to make the exchange fair.”

Jungkook refuses to entertain much thought on what the eccentric southern aristocrat could possibly
mean.

This is the first time in years that Jungkook has stayed late in bed and skipped morning court. He
doesn’t like to make a habit of it, because the nobles take an absent king as a weak king, and always
manage to find somewhere to undermine his authority when he’s not there to enforce compliance. He
trusts Jimin and Taehyung to handle them this morning, though.

Oil from the leaves of the gingko tree releases a strong woodsy fragrance when heated, but when
rubbed on the skin, emits a sweet, intoxicating aroma. That aroma hangs around his bedchambers
like an aura, scenting everything in sight.

Yoongi drags the jade pebble through the hot oil first before dropping it onto the skin of his back and
if Jungkook had the energy, he would throw a fit over the way the sharp heat burns on his skin. He
rolls the pebble along his shoulder blades and down his spine before letting it sit above the curve of
his behind. He doesn’t want to admit it, and he most definitely won’t be out loud, but, the tension
and aches in his muscles seem to just dissipate in the air.

Yoongi leans down and he feels him press his lips against the shell of his ear. The oil is cooling
rapidly on his skin and that is the only reason he shivers.

“Relax, your majesty, even kings need to play sometimes.”

His jaw clenches as Yoongi places another hot pebble onto his bare back and he hisses through his
teeth indignantly,

“Is this what you call play, Min Yoongi?”

He hears the deep rumble of his chuckle and swallows a gasp when he feels those lips brush against
his shoulder. Hands brush his hair away from his neck, and the lips move there as well. Then they
return to his ear,
“Are you trying to tell me you’re not having fun, sire?”

In politics and war, it is sometimes in your best interest to allow your opponent to think they’ve won.
The generals call it Tactical Retreat.

Jungkook chooses to remain silent, eyes fluttering closed as Yoongi’s hands work on his sore
muscles. He would continue to give the lord his silent treatment, if a curious thought hadn’t crossed
his mind,

“Have we met before, Min Yoongi?”

Yoongi takes a moment to answer and his hands still on his back, not leaving but also no longer
kneading the knots in his flesh,

“Why do you ask?”

“Why do you ask, your majesty?” Jungkook corrects him,

A huff of laughter,

“I asked you first.”

He has decided not to think about it. Decided not to consider the way his skin feels hot whenever
Min Yoongi looks him in the eyes instead of keeping his gaze low like he’s supposed to. He won’t
consider how close he has let one man get to him in only the span of a year and some months. He
chooses not to perseverate on things like his moon shaped face or his sleepy almond eyes, or his lips
that look like the petals of a peach blossom.

Jungkook has a nation to lead, his conquests to focus on, he has his people to protect.
 He doesn’t know how, and he’d rather not spend time ruminating on it, but at some point, Min
Yoongi becomes one of those people.

“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to make pleasantries with the people that caused my army
crippling losses.”

Yoongi smiles softly, and the expression makes Jungkook’s blood feel like hot molten lava in his
veins and his chest pound like the drums at the festivities outside. Jungkook watches him unclasp his
hands behind his back and brush his thumb against the skin of his lower lip.

“You made nice with me, didn’t you?”

“That’s an insulting insinuation. I didn’t have a choice, you blackmailed me with the security of my
country,”

He wants to smirk tauntingly at Yoongi, but the look in his eyes tugs it right off his face.

“Be good, and go do your diplomatic duty with the Tang emissaries, your majesty, and we will see
about the way you talk to me later tonight. You’ve yet so much to learn, my dear king.”

It’s merely apprehension that makes Jungkook bodily shudder. Apprehension, not excitement.

Chapter End Notes

[i] Northern Xianbei Empire attempting to annex Goguryeo

[ii] Buddhist temple located on the slopes of Mt. Pongrin, Modern day North Korea
 St. Germain's Library, Seoul, 2:00 P.M.

Namjoon’s coffee has gone cold and the sun has traveled across half of the sky in the time it has
taken him to look through the pile of artifacts and books Han Gyosu-nim has pulled out for him. His
eyes flitter back to the framed portrait again for the third time in only a few minutes. It’s something
small, something he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t been staring at their faces for the better part
of his day.

If he thinks about it, he’s never really considered their faces before. He’s spent years and years
looking at portraits and carvings and pottery dating back a whole millennium, but he’s only just now
realized that he hasn’t ever seen a single smiling face.

He has now.

It’s something small, but momentous in its own right for the work he’s doing.

Jungkook, Great Conqueror of the Three Kingdoms,

is smiling,

as he sits enthroned beside

Min Yoongi.

Namjoon is about to call it a day, he’s about to say his farewells to this curious portrait that probably
won’t see the light of day in its original form for a very, very long time. Namjoon is more than ready
to make his way down the grated steps that lead back down to the main library building, he is eager
to skip down the large central staircase and make his way to the subway and back to the warmth of
his cozy studio apartment.

He is, but then something catches his eye.

 part iv
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Luoyang[i] is a sprawling cosmopolitan city built around a vast and elegant palace at least twice the
size of Jungkook’s home in Kaesong[ii]. He’s not intimidated by it; the imperial family barely
occupies one fourth of the expansive grounds. There’s nothing to envy about royals that live in
excess while their people tighten their belts.

They’ve been riding for over a fortnight through deserts and mountain passes to get here. This is the
second time since Jungkook’s coronation that he’s traveled so far from the kingdom, but the mission
they are on is of utmost importance. They’ve traveled light, it’s only him, Yoongi and Hoseok
moving about in plain clothes to attract the least amount of attention to themselves. Their plan is risky
and dangerous, but Jungkook can’t help but feel a rush in his blood at the freedom he’s experiencing
so far from court.

The city is very well fortified with only one way in and out. As they approach the city gate, they’re
confronted with quite a congestion of travelers waiting to pass through. The guards seem to be on
high alert and are searching through the belongings of all the visitors. A few disgruntled merchants
ahead of them in queue are causing the entire process to go at snail’s pace.

“There’s been talk of conspiracy against the crown from the Northern Liang king and his entire clan
had been reported slaughtered, save for one princess who managed to escape. Luoyang is in a state
of emergency.”

Yoongi whispers this to him from the side of his mouth.

“Over a fugitive princess?”

Yoongi is about to respond but a guard approaches,

“State your business,”

Hoseok who is the closest to him flashes Jungkook’s royal tally. The guard stiffens immediately,
“My apologies, welcome to Luoyang your-”

Yoongi shakes his head subtly and Hoseok slyly places his index finger against his lips,

“-Milord… Enjoy your stay.”

They are ushered ahead of everyone else, to a symphony of complaints before being waved past the
gates and into Lower Luoyang.

Jungkook is hot and tired and they have been on horseback for the better part of two weeks,

“A bed would be nice. And a bath.”

Yoongi and Hoseok must be exhausted themselves, because they direct him to an inn with little to no
comment.

They’re staying at The Prosperity, reputedly the best place to stay in the city; Hoseok has bought out
an entire floor to ensure his safety and privacy and Yoongi has slipped the innkeeper a whole silver
tael[iii] to guarantee her silence and hospitality. Her eyes go wide at the sight of it and her mood
seems to turn on its head from disgruntled and impatient to warm and genial. She even makes it a
point to send up ginseng tea and jasmine oil for their baths and offers to call over ladies from the
House of Beauties next door. Jungkook gratefully accepts the jasmine oil for his bath but declines her
offer of ginseng and company. Yoongi gestures at them to go on ahead to their rooms, staying back
to speak with the Innkeeper longer and a flash of something that feels suspiciously like jealousy
burns in Jungkook’s chest at the thought that he might be taking her up on her other suggestions.

Hoseok draws a hot bath for him, for which he is eternally grateful. He sits in it, letting the heat
absorb into his aching muscles until his fingertips begin to pucker and the water starts to cool before
making his way out, only to be met with the image of Hoseok in an advanced state of undress on his
own way to the bathing chambers.

Jungkook is tired and already dead on his feet so he will be forgiven if he stares a little.

Or a lot.
There is a reason Hoseok is called Mi Geom and it has very little to do with his killing expertise and
very much to do with how supernaturally gorgeous he is.

But that is a thought for when Jungkook isn’t seconds from falling over, so he decides to put it aside.
There’s no point in wasting his time or energy having a crisis about how much he finds Hoseok
attractive after all the years they’ve spent together, he presently has far more urgent business to attend
to.

They’ve been in Luoyang for four days and have yet to make much progress. Yoongi has been
leaving early and returning late after long days of meeting with important aristocrats and dignitaries
to arrange a meeting with his old friend, Tuoba Jun[iv]

Jungkook and Hoseok have taken the time away from royal responsibilities to explore the city and
meet with friends of their own, so their stay has been nowhere near boring, but all the same, he’s
beginning to get restless. There are only so many toys and fabrics he can buy for Youngho and
Youngha and only so many cakes and cups of tea he can ingest before getting sick of the tastes
altogether.

With all this time not being productive, Jungkook has also been allowed to wallow in the feelings
he’d been running away from for much of the past two, almost three years.

It had been so much easier ignoring how he’s felt about the head of his royal assassins and worse, his
chief commander and tactical advisor, but being in close quarters with the two of them and far away
from the prying eyes of the palace attendants, Jungkook’s emotions have been allowed to run wild.

The matter with Hoseok is natural and organic and the product of years of closeness and flirtations
that had never really lead to much more than fleeting intimate touches and quietly whispered
innuendos, but all that is coming to a head with all the time they spend together. He’s traveled
without his personal guard detail, so that responsibility has landed on the assassin and has only meant
they’ve been attached at the hip the past few days.

It’s almost inevitable that Jungkook should desire the assassin even more that they spend so much
time together, but it has only served to complicate things with the Lord that has taken to keeping his
bed.
Jungkook does not like to consider the implications of his relationship with Min Yoongi, it’s far too
complicated and tiresome for someone like him who has only ever known how to be straightforward
about what he wants. And why shouldn’t he, he’s never been denied anything in his life.

He’s also never met someone who’s been able to name a price he couldn’t afford for what he’s
wanted until Lord Min found himself in his palace’s Lateral Courts so many years ago, so perhaps
his confusion is to be expected.

It’s simply that Jungkook doesn’t understand himself, why he has allowed Yoongi to come so close
to him. It’s undoubtable that he finds the man attractive and alluring, his magnetism so strong and
intoxicating that Jungkook sometimes can’t see straight, but it’s not the sex that has Jungkook so
troubled. Or perhaps it is the sex, but less the act and more the… dynamism of their relationship.

Jungkook is a king. Jungkook is a warrior. Jungkook’s blood courses with divinity and a mandate
from Heaven that steers him to righteousness and glory. Everywhere he goes, people fall to their
knees.

But behind the veils and curtains and sliding doors of his bedchambers,

Jungkook learns for the second time in his life what it means to go prostrate for someone else. It’s a
feat he thought only his strong-willed Queen could achieve. Somehow, Min Yoongi has traded the
world for Jungkook and in turn it seems, won something much greater.

Jungkook may have a nation at his feet, but Yoongi has him on his back, and he knows he’ll have a
crisis if he thinks too long on what that means about him.

Perhaps, it’s not the power exchange that rustles Jungkook to the depths of his soul but, the
vulnerability it has put on his heart.

Yoongi doesn’t seem satisfied with just his compliance in bed, he seems hell bent on making the king
fall in love with him.

It just wouldn’t do.

Nothing good ever comes of a king falling in love.

On their sixth day in Luoyang, opportunity presents itself.

It’s time for the Imperial Stag Hunt[v] and all the nobles with enough influence and power have been
invited to the palace grounds for a hunt. He'll finally be able to cozy up to Tuoba Jun.

Or, so they think.

Their hope was for Jungkook to finally make acquaintance with the Wei prince and gain his
friendship and cooperation in a greater plan, but nothing ever happens as one wishes.

The palace grounds are expansive and overwhelming in their beauty. Gardens, training grounds,
palaces, pavilions, ponds, and stretches and stretches of forest titillate the eye and dazzle it with
grandeur. Jungkook doesn’t understand how but he feels like he might suffocate. There’s too much.

There are at least thirty noble families in attendance, not including the emperor, his harem, his
children, and his sons’ harems and their children and sons’ harems.

Jungkook thought he despised Goryeo nobility for their excess and fatuousness, but they can’t hold a
candle to Northern Wei. He’s never truly understood his distrust of royalty and nobility, considering
he is himself wealthy and powerful, but being able to know personally just how meaningless it all is,
he knows wealth and power aren’t worth even a fraction of all the harm done to accumulate them.

Both Yoongi and Hoseok seem to notice his discomfort.

“Do you want to leave, your majesty? We can always think of another way.”

“Your excellency, if I may. The king will be fine, I will make sure of that.”

“Mi Geom is right, I’ll be… alright… I just need a moment.”

Yoongi nods at him, and Hoseok tells him to let him know if he needs anything,

“I’ll just take a short walk... don’t worry I’ll be back before the gaming starts.”

A furrow snakes its way across Hoseok’s brow and Jungkook’s fingertips itch to smooth it out.

“Do you need-”

“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just be a few moments.”

The woods on the palace grounds are even more beautiful upon closer inspection; a paragon of
tranquility considering the amount of killing that is about to take place in it. A small brown rabbit
makes its way from the brush to cross his path, then scares off back into the shadows.

Jungkook is so distracted by the rabbit’s movements that he almost doesn’t hear them. When the
voices register, he is almost paralyzed with shock by what he hears.

“He’s wearing a white cloak, he’ll be hard to miss. When you see Tuoba Jun in sight, you shoot.”

“Yes, your highness.”

“No mistakes, Zheng’er[vi] do you understand?”

“Of course.”

They’re a man and a woman, but only one of them that he recognizes. There-in lies the problem.

He knows that man.

Not personally, no, but he knows of him.

He’s Tuoba Yu,

Grand Prince of Nan’an[vii]

and he’s planning to have his nephew killed.

Imperials.

How typical.

The issues of the Northern Wei Imperial family truly wouldn’t be any of his business, but he kind of
needs Tuoba Jun. Alive.

Jungkook is careful to sneak away, ensuring that he doesn’t step on any branches or leaves that
might alert the Grand Prince of his presence. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel so suffocated anymore. Not
with how his heart is pounding in his ears and his hands are shaking and he feels like he could take
off and fly.

It’s a bit morbid, but he’s found an in to get with the Prince.

Hoseok and Yoongi look surprised to see he’s returned so soon. He nods to the former before
stepping close to the latter to whisper covertly in his ear,

“Meet me in my pavilion, I have… something of dire importance to relay to you two.”

Jungkook doesn’t bother to stop and linger, he makes his way to the hunting tent allocated to him as
a foreign dignitary.

The tent is spacious and luxurious for what it is, furnished with well-made stools and tables and
anything the king could possibly want or need on the gaming expedition. Outside, a warm summer
breeze blows the drapery about and rattles the pavilion foundations.
Yoongi and Hoseok both look curious at his suddenly urgent behavior, which is only to be expected.

Jungkook waits a moment, trying to gather his thoughts, this situation will require fast and smart
action if all should go well.

“Tuoba Yu has ordered one of his assassins to take his nephew out during the expedition while
everyone is distracted.”

Yoongi takes in a breath before he responds,

“By his nephew, I’m assuming your majesty doesn’t mean the four-year-old son of the youngest
Imperial prince, and you’re talking about Tuoba Jun.”

He nods and Yoongi swears under his breathe.

“Did your majesty happen to hear when or where he plans on ambushing him?”

Jungkook shakes his head no, regretting his rash decision to run to tell them instead of staying long
enough to get that valuable bit of information.

“Well, we can’t just go tell the prince his uncle has ordered his death.”

Jungkook has to think.

“Hoseok-ah, are you familiar at all with the Grand Prince’s retainer?”

The assassin looks off into the distance, considering. He shrugs.

“…Because the warrior he’s ordered to take him out is a woman.”

“Your majesty… is sure?”

He nods impatiently, “Yes, of course.”

Yoongi and Hoseok are silent for a moment, then Hoseok speaks up,

“Did he… perhaps call her Zheng?”

Jungkook snaps his fingers in recognition, eagerly nodding his confirmation, “Do you know her?”

“Yes, Han Zheng, she’s quite notorious in the fighting world, and has been loyal to Tuoba Yu since
childhood. He rescued her from a village the Wei Emperor’s army leveled, or so the story goes. If the
Grand Prince has asked her to take care of it, Tuoba Jun is as good as dead.”

Yoongi swears again, and falls back to sit on a stool, reaching over to their ready table to take a swig
from the king’s wine carafe. Jungkook chooses not to throw a fit over it.

He’s stumped. It’s the first Jungkook has ever seen of him. He turns to Hoseok,

“Hoseok-ah. Stop the assassination anyway you know possible today. If that means jumping in front
of the arrow…” his chest pangs, “do it.”

The royal assassin nods. He knows not to let Jungkook down.

“As for you,” he turns to Yoongi, “Accompany me to go make acquaintance with the prince and see
if there’s some way we can warn him… delicately.”

Yoongi nods,

“Of course, sire. Let’s be quick.”

“It was your uncle.”

Tuoba Jun is nothing like Jungkook has imagined, but then again, he’s not sure exactly what he was
expecting from him. He is bright and kind, seems to look others genuinely in the eye and speak softly
to them regardless of rank.

He is a famed warrior, known even in the Three Kingdoms for his valiant feats. Jungkook
understands why his uncle would be weary of the prince, he’s charismatic and seems like a good
man through to his core. He practically has the emperor investiture in his palm, and that’s not even
considering his numerous merits. Jungkook would hate him too, if he was competing with him for
the throne.

When Yoongi makes the confession, the Tuoba royal barely seems surprised. He merely pours
himself a full cup of wine and downs it. His words are slightly slurred, but it only seems to suit him
all the more.

“Regardless of who it was, I am indebted to you for intervening. You’ve saved my life, Goryeo
Wang[viii]. It is my honor to be of service to you.”

Tuoba Jun is kind and magnanimous and Jungkook likes him instantly, but…

“When I received word that Xiǎo Min[ix] had traveled to Wei with the Goryeo king, I wasn’t
expecting you to be so good looking, your majesty.”

He’s awful at holding his wine.

Jungkook merely raises his own cup of wine before drinking it down, using his sleeve to cover the
way his face heats up.

“I’m not xiǎo anymore, your highness.”

The prince laughs, “No, I s’ppose you’re right. My… xiǎo dìdì[x] from the far south has grown well
and is now serving Gwanggaeto’s great grandson.”
He claps Yoongi on the back, who even in the candlelight of the prince’s tent glows pink like a fresh
hibiscus bloom. Hoseok is smiling softly and conspiratorially from where he sits beside Jungkook,
unusually quiet. Finally, he speaks up,

“Perhaps it is late, your highness, your majesty, your excellency. We should retire for the night.”

Jungkook agrees, and smiles to the Wei prince,

“Shall we meet early tomorrow morning to discuss things?”

Tuoba Jun locks eyes with Yoongi before turning back to him and nodding. Jungkook passively
watches the exchange, unsure what to make of his senior tactical advisor’s relationship with the
foreign prince.

“Then, farewell, for tonight, your highness.”

The Northern Wei prince invites the three travelers to his manor to remain for the rest of their stay.
Though the rooms he has granted him are spacious and well furnished, he apologizes that he can’t
offer the king more. Jungkook is endeared by the prince, despite himself.

It's very late in the evening by the time they have all been able to thoroughly discuss and plan for the
mission they have set out on.

“I can supply you with 5,000 men for this mission, myself included. It’s very risky to get involved in
foreign politics, but dethroning the current Houyan emperor is to our advantage in Wei as well,”

Organizing the specifics of their plan takes only a few hours, but Tuoba Jun has a great love for his
wines, and insists that the three of them drink the best he has to offer. The sun is courting the far
horizon by the time Jungkook stumbles into his chambers, supported by Hoseok.

The Goryeo king has never really been too great at holding his liquor.
Tuoba Jun’s guest chambers face the west and the reds and oranges of the sunset stream into
Jungkook’s ready room and dance along his wood and rice paper walls. They settle around Hoseok
like an aura. He looks beautiful and Jungkook wants to kiss him.

So, he does.

Hoseok’s hands come up to cradle his jaw, and he tips his fingers under Jungkook’s chin, using it as
leverage to deepen the kiss. Jungkook’s own hands settle on his shoulders, pushing at the leather
strap he uses to hold his sword across his back. Without breaking apart, they stumble back to crash
onto the king’s bed.

“Hoseok-ah,”

“Your majesty,”

Jungkook tugs Hoseok down to hover over him. He tugs at the tie holding his tunic robes together
when there is a knock at his door,

“My King,”

It’s Yoongi and Jungkook swears so only he and Hoseok can hear.

Then,

“One moment,”

What are they to do?

“I’ll see you later, your majesty.”

Hoseok’s smile is wry and conspiratory like he knows something he shouldn’t and he raises his
eyebrow at Jungkook when Yoongi raps at the door again, then turns to leave.

He lets his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut as he tries to calm his breathing and the beating of
his heart.

A deep baritone clears his throat and Jungkook cracks an eye open to peek at him. It's Yoongi, of
course, and he's grinning at him. He somehow feels like he was caught. He’s a king, he absolutely
doesn’t have to explain his behavior to the chief commander.

Yet,

“We weren’t um-”

“And why not, your majesty?”

If there was something he was expecting from the lord, that wasn’t it.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me, Jeon Jungkook, why didn’t you? You don’t think it would have been fun?”

Jungkook bristles to hear his full name spoken out loud in such a manner. Yoongi slinks over,
settling to straddle him on the bed. He ducks down to nibble at the crook of his neck,

“How does he stand it, when you’re always looking so… I’m surprised you haven’t done anything at
all. I know I definitely don’t have his restraint.”

Jungkook swallows down on a moan as Yoongi tears open his robe, exposing his fevered skin to the
cool air of his chambers.

“I’ve given you two so many opportunities… and nothing. One of these days… one of these days,
I’m just going to have to take matters into my own hands.”
Chapter End Notes

[i] Capital city of Northern Wei, Modern day Northern China

[ii] Capital city of Goryeo, Modern day North Korea

[iii] Approximately three ounces of a melted precious metal, cooled and fashioned into a
bar or coin used as general currency in the Altaic regions before the use of nationalized
paper money and bank notes.

[iv] Prince of Northern Wei from the Tuoba clan, Grandson of the seated Emperor, later
crowned Emperor Wencheng

[v] On the off season, the Emperor would open the palace gates to the noble families to
join them on the grounds to hunt game for the opportunity to be granted prizes and curry
favour with the royals.

[vi] Diminutive suffix used by mandarin speakers after an individual’s given name to
show seniority but also familial closeness or affection. Somewhat similar in usage to the
modern Japanese “-chan”

[vii] Son of Emperor Taiwu, Tuoba Jun’s uncle, charged with Pingcheng, modern day
Datong, China

[viii] King

[ix]In Mandarin, “xiǎo” means small, little, or young. Tacked onto a name, it is an
affectionate way of calling someone much younger than the speaker.

[x] Younger brother, Mandarin

 part v
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The Murong clan[i] has been ruling over Houyan for generations, and every single one of their
seated Emperors has tried to annex Goryeo in some capacity. Murong Chui[ii] battled Jungkook’s
great grandfather for control of Northern Goguryeo and his grandson, Murong Sheng[iii] fought with
his father. Jungkook’s ambitions to unite the Three Kingdoms are pointless if he can’t ensure a
friendly neighbor in the north, but the current Houyan emperor, Murong Xi [iv] is capricious, fatuous
and belligerent. He’s led numerous scattered and unorganized expeditions against their northern
border, causing the Goryeo king unnecessary distractions from his hopes of further southern
expansion.

Word had reached Goryeo from their spies in Houyan that Murong Xi’s empress, Fu, had died, and
the emperor would be leading a procession south to bury her.

Yoongi has advised Jungkook to travel to Northern Wei, with whom Goryeo shared a common
enemy in Houyan, and convince Yoongi’s friend the Wei prince, Tuoba Jun to join them in a plot to
put Murong Xi's exiled nephew, Murong Rou[v] on the throne. With Jun’s support, they’ll be able to
convince the Houyan prince to raise an army against his uncle and ambush him while on his way to
the south.

It’s risky and extremely dangerous and could blow up in their faces in a big way if anything goes
wrong, but Jungkook is confident they can pull through.

He has Yoongi and Hoseok at his side, and after meeting Tuoba Jun, his conviction that their plan
will be successful is only solidified further.

Then, they met with the Murong prince.

Murong Rou had been chased out of the Imperial Palace when he was very young. Though it was
his father that was made crown prince, his uncle raised an army and usurped the throne in a wildly
violent power struggle after the death of his grandfather. He’d grown up far away from Houyan
politics, hidden in the countryside. Rou is a resentful, disillusioned royal, and convincing him onto
their side would be near impossible.

The prince’s manor was far west of Longcheng[vi], the capital city of Houyan, located near a small
stream at the mouth of a dense bamboo forest. His nearest neighbors were a temple of Buddhist
monks located at the peak of a mountain sitting deep in the wood. The four of them had ridden for
two days from the western border where Jun’s soldiers had made camp just to get to the isolated
Murong prince.

Jungkook feels strange leading another army into battle instead of his own, but they all know very
well that having Goryeo soldiers at the ambush of an enemy emperor would cause a massive
outbreak of war, something they can’t afford and have been trying to avoid.

They find Murong Rou sitting on the banks of the stream by his manor, dressed in the straw and felt
clothing of the local farmers, fishing quietly alone. He seems to recognize Jungkook and Tuoba Jun
immediately, but makes no movement to stop his fishing or acknowledge them. Hoseok sighs and
mutters under his breath,

“Another eccentric royal.”

To which, Yoongi chuckles and replies,

“You’re one to talk about being eccentric, Mi Geom.”

Jungkook tampers down on a snort at their exchange, but can’t help but laugh quietly at Jun’s
response,

“Xiǎo Min, you really shouldn’t be talking either,”

Jungkook then passively points out,

“Really, none of us are in any position to judge, we all have to be out of our minds to even be on this
mission.”

“His majesty makes a valid argument-”

Rou speaks up finally from his position some paces away from them,
“Are you all quite finished? You’re scaring away the catfish.”

Jungkook and Jun dismount from their horses and approach him, followed by Hoseok and Yoongi,

“Your highness,”

“Goryeo Wang. You’re a long way from home.”

Jungkook nods and is about to speak, but Jun puts up a hand to interrupt,

“Murong Rou, we-”

“Tuoba Jun, you’re definitely a long way from home. How do you think it looks to have two
enemies of the Houyan state seen at my manor? You didn’t even try to disguise yourselves, I
recognized you as soon as you rode in.”

Impatience flares in Jungkook’s chest at the prince’s brusque manner. Yoongi, ever the diplomat,
speaks then,

“Your Highness, if you will have us, perhaps we should discuss matters inside? We have an urgent
proposition to make.”

Rou grunts and makes no attempt to move from his spot, and the four of them are left to stand there
staring at him, waiting.

Finally, he sighs and gets up, satisfied with the show he’s put on, and gestures at them to follow him.

A young woman, looking about 18 years of age greets them at the gate. She’s dressed like a man,
with her hair tied up in a top knot, and clothes similar to the prince’s farmers’ fare.

“Xi’er, warm some wine for my guests, and tell Master Li that I’ll have four more for dinner.”
She bows before turning and heading off to deliver his orders.

Murong Rou leads them to the main pavilion of his manor, settling at his seat at the head, while
Jungkook and Jun sit closest to him, as is expected of royals of their rank.

Yoongi clearly lays out the details of their plan, imploring the prince to join their efforts to take the
Houyan throne,

“Your highness is the rightful heir to the throne, yet a willful usurper rules your country while you
are forced into hiding,”

Rou is silent for a while, swirls his cup of wine in his hand before downing it and gesturing at Xi
who stands aside to refill it.

They watch him in suspense as he wordlessly downs the topped-up cup of wine again, and gestures
at Xi for a third.

He stares at the cup for a moment, then downs that too.

“No.”

Jungkook wasn’t even aware of the breath he’d been holding but it came out of him with a whoosh,

“What do you mean, ‘no’? That’s all? You’re not even going to consider it?”

Rou looks at him passively,

“I did consider it; didn’t you just see? My answer is no.”

Jun laughs incredulously from his seat facing Jungkook,

“All those theatrics just to refuse?”

Rou tilts his head to the side curiously,

“I was only being polite as it seems my esteemed guests have traveled far just to make this ridiculous
request of me. Still, no.”

Hoseok scoffs from where he is seated and his chair screeches as the legs scratch against the wood
floor. Yoongi interjects,

“Your highness, please, I beg you to reconsider-”

Jungkook clears his throat,

“If I may, your highness,” the prince nods at him to continue, “I know better than anyone the
disenfranchisement you probably feel,”

Rou scoffs and rolls his eyes, but Jungkook keeps going,

“I know all too well what it's like for palace politics to rob you of your childhood, to isolate and
alienate you. I know how little those who haven’t experienced what it’s like to see brothers fight to
the death understand your despair. It’s natural for your highness to run from it,”

Murong Rou raises a challenging eyebrow,

“Who says I’m running away? You can’t run away from something that has cast you out already.”

“But you know best how your people have suffered- are suffering under your uncle. Can you really
turn a blind eye? Are you truly satisfied with hiding out in the woods when your nation is

in turmoil?”
Rou puts up a hand, and waves Xi over to refill his cup.

“Don’t think for a moment that I am not aware of your stake in all this, your majesty. And you,
Tuoba Jun. I may be removed from worldly matters, but I am no fool.”

Yoongi makes to interject,

“Your highness-”

Jungkook presses on,

“Regardless of who else benefits, you cannot call yourself a prince if you choose willingly to give up
on your own people.”

With that, he rises from his seat; he’s had enough.

Both Murong Rou and Tuoba Jun look stunned by his outburst. Hoseok and Yoongi have long
become used to his temper, and merely smile to themselves. He opts to ignore both parties.

“Whether your highness decides to stand up for his people or not, I am going to eliminate this threat
to mine. You can choose to sit back and watch passively as Houyan continues to struggle without an
emperor on its throne.”

Jungkook looks to Hoseok and Yoongi, then Tuoba Jun who stares at him, mouth agape.

“I’ll be heading out now. Your highness will understand if I don’t hang around for supper.”

He’s ready to leave and is halfway to the front door of the pavilion when he hears it,

first a sigh, and then,

“Hold on.”

The operation is simple enough. It’s always the simple operations, however, that are the most
dangerous with the greatest chance of failure. Murong Rou may have kept up the appearance of
being detached from worldly politics and matters but he's kept a retinue of supporters among the
aristocracy and found it quite easy to raise an army of 5,000 to match Tuoba Jun’s. They make camp
around a road cutting past the base of the mountain far into the bamboo forest some ways away from
Rou’s manor, where the Emperor’s procession is purported to pass.

They remain encamped for three days before a scout comes to report that the funeral party is on its
way.

Jungkook leads a squadron of 2,500 with Hoseok to take up the rear of the imperial procession. The
ambush is largely successful, with only 4,000 guards brought along to protect the emperor, as they
had not been expecting an attack.

About half an hour into the fighting, the guard surrenders and drops their weapons and Murong Rou
leads his squadron to the Emperor’s palanquin to capture him.

They all gather round to see Rou seize rule over Houyan from his uncle. The air is thick with the
stench of metal and blood, and profuse with suspense. Rou tears aside the curtain of the carriage.

Jungkook’s heart drops through his stomach.

“We must divide and comb the forest for him, he can’t have gotten far!”

Jun screams the order as he rides off into the deep brush of the wood.

Hoseok and Jungkook set out in the opposite direction. They give chase when they spot a small
group of maybe five men and what looks to be the Houyan emperor disappear off into the distance,
dismounting once they reach a cave, and venture in to see if they’d gone to hide inside. Jungkook
steps in first, followed by Hoseok. It’s largely silent as they press forward, but something in the pit of
Jungkook’s gut doesn’t feel right.
Hoseok seems to feel it too, because he grabs at his arm and tucks him behind himself, so he is ahead
of him.

The passageway begins to open up into a wider cavern that is nearly pitch dark. He isn't sure, but
Jungkook thinks he sees movement in the distance and makes to warn Hoseok when suddenly, the
assassin cries out.

The sound causes his blood to run cold and immediately he rushes to hold Hoseok up as he collapses
right before him,

“Are you alright, what happened, are you hurt?”

Hoseok groans and when Jungkook turns him over to lie on his back on the cavern ground, he
curses.

There’s a small dart piercing his shoulder, and the wound is already bleeding profusely.

He can hear footsteps running off into the distance but chooses not to pursue them.

“Gods, Hoseok-ah, are you alright. Speak to me, please,”

Jungkook doesn’t want to panic but he can hear it creeping into the pitch of his voice,

“Your majesty… It’s nothing, let’s move forward.” He makes to get up, then grimaces and falls
back, the pain on his face apparent even in the poor lighting.

“Nonsense. Relax, let me look at it.”

He can just barely see anything, but he somehow manages to get a look at the wound, and presses
his palm over Hoseok’s mouth as he gently pries the dart out.

Hoseok, to his credit, only huffs and grunts a little at the removal, eyes going crossed from the pain.
Ripping cloth from his own robes to use as a bandage, he wraps Hoseok’s shoulder tightly to stop
the bleeding. Hoseok struggles again to get up, but Jungkook is firm and pushes him down,

“Shh, shh. They’re long gone by now, Hoseok-ah. Forget it, you’re badly hurt.”

“Your majesty, I’m-”

“You’re not. It’s fine, let me take care of you,”

Jungkook brushes the sweat beading across Hoseok's brow away with his sleeve, and reaches down
to take hold of the assassin’s hand,

“I’ve failed you, your majesty,”

He shakes his head insistently,

“No, you’ve saved my life, like you always do. Now rest, we can move again once you’ve regained
some strength.”

Hoseok’s eyes close, and Jungkook watches him, studying to make sure he hasn’t started with a
fever. He’s not sure how long he’s waited with him when he sees light flicker from the direction they
came,

“Your majesty?”

Jungkook loves the sound of Min Yoongi’s voice, but he’s never quite loved it as much as he does
now.

“Over here!”
Jungkook is reluctant to leave Hoseok’s bedside, but he needs to be briefed on the outcome of their
ambush. When he meets with the other men at the camp center, they all look haggard and exhausted.
Murong Rou smiles at him tiredly,

“Thanks to you, I was able to avenge my father and my people.”

“You caught him?”

He nods,

“Yes, after some hours we saw him at another opening of the cave on the other side of the mountain
base. We’ll be riding out for Longcheng by sunrise.”

“Congratulations, your high- er, your majesty.”

Rou huffs out a quiet laugh. He looks worse for wear, but his eyes have adopted a kind of peace they
definitely didn't have when Jungkook first met him. If he wasn’t so occupied with thoughts of
Hoseok, he would have been happy for him.

“Do not worry, Goryeo Wang, I’ll hold up my end of the bargain after my coronation. No more
trouble from the north, your majesty.”

Jungkook nods and clasps hands with the former prince, before making his way to Hoseok’s tent.

He's lying on his cot, pale and clammy, and there is a slight tremor that goes through his body every
few moments. The medic attending to him bows to Jungkook and makes his way out of the tent after
warning him to let the injured assassin rest. He’s given him a sleeping draft and some other
medicines to suppress his fever.

“I gave him a wolfberry[vii] draft for strength and to aid his sleep.”
And he’s still sleeping, fitful as it may be. Jungkook sits beside him and reaches for his hand.

Something about the way it sits limp and cold in his hands makes his chest pang.

“I’m so sorry Hoseok-ah. I told you to jump in front of the arrow aimed at Tuoba Jun and you agreed
without any hesitation. You’ve been with me since I was eleven and you were fourteen and you’ve
never once thought to do anything but protect me… and what have I done for you in return?”

Hoseok’s eyes flicker beneath his closed eyelids and his brow furrows but there’s no sign of him
waking.

Jungkook knows they can't help their roles, their difference of rank, or the responsibilities of their
work. They've both been through many battles and seen each other through numerous injuries, but
there’s something about this one. Something about the way Hoseok put himself in front of him in
absolute darkness that has Jungkook's vision beginning to blur.

There’s a rustle outside the tent and when he turns his head to see, he’s met with the tired bloodshot
eyes of his chief commander.

“Your majesty, how is Mi Geom holding up?”

“I… don’t… know, Yoongi. I’m… I don’t know-”

Yoongi is beside him in a moment, and pulls him into his side. It’s the firmness of the lord’s hold
around his shoulders that finally breaks him down.

“He’ll be alright, love, he’ll be okay, shh, shhh.”

Part of it is the exhaustion and the effect of battle on his nerves, but most of it is regret. Regret that if
something like this happens again, or worse, he won’t have another chance to tell Hoseok what he
feels, what he wants.

Yoongi kisses at his temples and squeezes him as silent sobs hiccup from his chest, and wrack his
entire body.
Jungkook looks up at Yoongi, searching his eyes.

He doesn’t know what he’d do without the two of them, he can’t lose them, he’s realizing it now.

He wants to say it, he wants to tell Yoongi so badly.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to be like this, what if someone comes in?”

Yoongi's face falls and the expression is replaced with one that is far less amicable. Then he smirks at
him, the look cold and intentionally removed,

“Your majesty is right, you wouldn’t want to be caught being so vulnerable, would you?”

Jungkook pulls away, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve as he stands up. Yoongi bows curtly,
before turning to leave.

He watches as his tactical advisor makes to exit the tent, but then stops abruptly. Without looking
back,

“He loves you too, you know.”

He isn’t allowed a chance to respond before Yoongi has already left, the veil of the tent flapping in
the cool night breeze after he’s gone.

Jungkook turns back to watch Hoseok and takes his hand back in his.

The palace at Longcheng is just as large, if not larger, than the one in Luoyang. Murong Rou is
welcomed back to his home with fanfare, like a hero, the people chanting his praises as he rides by.
 It takes almost a week to complete the proceedings for the peace treaty he and the Houyan and Wei
prince agreed on. In the meantime, Jungkook, Yoongi and Hoseok stay in Longcheng with the
newly crowned Emperor.

Once the treaty is agreed upon and they have signed it, Tuoba Jun takes his leave to return to Wei.
His departure is surprisingly emotional for Jungkook who hadn’t realized how much the valiant
prince had grown on him.

Before leaving, Jun stops by his chambers to bid him farewell.

“Goryeo Wang,”

They clasp hands and Jun pulls him in for a full embrace,

“Your highness,”

“It has been my pleasure and honor.”

Jungkook smiles and nods his agreement, it’s been his as well.

“Before I leave, let me ask something of you. Take care not to lose Xiǎo Min. He’s invaluable to
your majesty.”

It’s a curious thing to ask, but he agrees all the same,

“Of course.”

Chapter End Notes

[i] Tungusic Xianbei tribe that ruled Houyan dynastically.

[ii] Emperor Wucheng

[iii] Emperor Zhaowu

[iv] Emperor Zhaowen

[v] Fictional Murong Prince

[vi] Modern day Jinzhou, Liaoning

[vii] Goji berry

 part vi
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Your strong suit has never really been humour, Min Yoongi,”

“I have to object on two counts, your majesty: the first being that I am in fact quite funny, and the
other, that right now, I’m not joking.”

Jungkook stares at him, silently, waiting for him to crack and the jest to be revealed, but Yoongi
merely crosses his arms and squares his stance expectantly. Jungkook has to laugh,

“Alright, the joke has gone on long enough, I’ve had a long day at court and I’d like to rest.”

As he says this, Dong Rim and his other attendees bow to him on their way out the entrance to his
chambers, wishing him a good night. Both he and Yoongi nod and wave at them in
acknowledgment.

“After I’m finished with you, you’ll be well rested, my king. Don’t you worry.”

Seeing as he’s insistent on carrying this farce forever, Jungkook decides to make his way to his
drawing table for a cup of wine before bed. Yoongi places a firm hand on his shoulder, stopping
him.

He steps up close behind him, lips hovering over the back of Jungkook’s neck, and he brushes his
hair from his back to expose the skin there. The king suppresses a shiver,

“Now, don’t run off sire, be good and obedient and do what I asked of you,”

Yoongi trails his hands over his lower back and around his hips to settle over his waist. Jungkook
can feel the heat radiating from his palms through the thin, gauzy fabric of his night clothes. His
hands curl firmly, almost possessively around his hips and he nudges him to stand by his bed where
he’s laid out-
Well,

“I’m not wearing that, Min Yoongi.”

Yoongi chuckles darkly, and feigns a sigh,

“Alright, Jeon Jungkook, I’ve allowed you to play coy and refuse one last time. Savour it, because
my patience has run short. Now, if you will do me the honor,”

Jungkook huffs and wants to resist more but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least intrigued-

“No. This is for courtesans. Not a king.”

Even as he says it, he lets a hand run over the soft satin of the fabric lying atop his bedcovers.

The…

Can he even call it an outfit? There’s barely enough fabric to cover up most of his modesty.

Regardless, it is lovely, Jungkook can admit that much. He can’t say whether it will look as nice on
him, but.

All the same, he is intrigued.

“Don’t you dare laugh. Hoseok is fully recovered now, I won’t hesitate to send him and the rest of
the Sword after you.”

Yoongi smiles and quirks his head to the side,

“Funny you should be mentioning Jung Hoseok right now,”

Jungkook turns away so Yoongi won’t catch the way his face heats up. He does anyway, he just
knows it, he can tell from how Yoongi’s smirk is practically audible when he asks him if he’d like to
call Hoseok in right now.

“Maybe he should join? I feel so selfish keeping the sight of you in this ensemble all to myself,
perhaps I should share?”

He doesn’t mean to let the excitement, the nerves, the embarrassment leak into his voice,

“Absolutely not!”

It’s not his intent to let his voice squeak a whole octave higher, it’s not his intent to blush, whether at
the suggestion or Yoongi’s reaction to his reaction, and it’s definitely not his intent to feel arousal
pool in his gut and cause him to harden in his nightclothes, but well.

“Oh, your majesty, you really are quite depraved, aren’t you? You would like that wouldn’t you?”

Jungkook considers it Tactical Retreat when he doesn’t justify Min Yoongi’s nonsense with a
response. His silence has nothing to do with his worry that his voice might break if he does answer
him.

Before he can do anything about it, Yoongi is behind him again, pulling him into another embrace,

“Relax, Jungkook-ah,” and there’s nothing Jungkook finds arousing about Yoongi addressing him in
banmal[i], he swears it, “Let me take care of you. You promised I could have all of you.”

He did.

Yoongi sits by his drawing table, pouring himself a cup of wine while he watches Jungkook slip out
of his nightclothes. The weight of his gaze is heavy and hot on his skin as he does so, and the king
can feel the slight tremor in his hand from the nerves and anticipation.

You’re a king, his mind chooses to remind him unhelpfully. It only arouses him more.
The robe is flimsy and near transparent and is held together only by a thin string.

There’s a long, generous slit that runs down from the side of his hip down to his ankle, revealing the
length of his leg. He closes his eyes and wills his breathing to regulate before turning around to show
Yoongi.

Yoongi looks…

Well, Jungkook can’t quite identify the expression on his tactical advisor’s face, but he’s ready
reflexively to threaten his life should he make fun,

“If you utter so much as a chuckle-”

“You look… beautiful, Jungkook.”

His voice is somber, almost reverent. There’s not a hint of humour in it.

Jungkook has been called many things: powerful, ruthless, tyrannical, brave, strong, and gifted.
Never in his life before Min Yoongi has he ever been called beautiful.

Jungkook is a warrior, he has battle scars littered across the planes of his skin. He’s wiry and
muscular, and hardy.

Jungkook has never before been called beautiful, but the way Min Yoongi whispers it into the dips
of his collarbone like he’s trying to bury his deepest secrets into his flesh, he’s inclined to believe
him.

“Now, lie back,”

His brain is still trying to make sense of the southern lord calling him beautiful, so he doesn’t bother
putting up a fight, just goes along obediently.
Yoongi gets up from where he’s sitting, and Jungkook’s pulse skips of its own accord. He takes a
calming breath, expecting Yoongi to do something, anything.

After a moment, he opens his eyes again, and sees,

nothing.

He strains his neck to look for where Yoongi’s gone and rolls his eyes when he finds he’s returned to
his seat but this time, he’s pulled out rice paper and a brush.

He makes to get up,

“What are you doing Min Yoongi-”

“Stay still, I need to get the sketch right.”

Sketch?

“I’m so sure this is some form of treason. This is treasonous behavior. I’m sure of it. I’ll have them
clear out your cell in the Lateral Courts.”

Yoongi makes no effort to get up or stop his drawing, and Jungkook makes no effort to move.

“How thoughtful of you, sire. To keep a cell down there just for me. Careful or your other officials
might get jealous of all this special treatment.”

Jungkook only chuckles a little. It was funny after all.

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s…

“Do I… really… look like that?”

Yoongi nods and smiles at him, pulling the sketch out of his hands and putting it aside with one hand
as another reaches up to card through the length of his hair. Jungkook has let it down after his bath
and the scent of hibiscus lingers in the air when he does.

Jungkook feels self-conscious somehow. He tentatively raises a hand to the pin holding Yoongi’s
topknot together and tugs at it, letting his own thick black hair fall around his shoulders.

If anyone is beautiful,

Min Yoongi is.

Especially with the way he looks at him,

“You really have it all, don’t you, Jeon Jungkook? Brilliance, power, looks… It’s almost unfair.”

Jungkook could say the same about Yoongi.

Suddenly, he pushes the royal down on the mattress, and the wind is knocked out of him with a
whistle. He’s never gotten used to Min Yoongi’s strength. He doesn’t look terribly strong, just like
the usual scholar types, decent with a sword but not all that impressive of a fighter. That’s all a ruse.
Min Yoongi is as good as, if not in some ways better of a fighter than even Jungkook is. He may not
really compare to Hoseok or Taehyung or Jimin, but he most definitely would put up a good fight for
them too.

Yoongi’s also very reserved with the way he uses his strength and dexterity. Jungkook used to see
him as little more than a brilliant mind, and then he saw him on the battlefield fighting against his
cousin’s soldiers. He has a way of making his opponent exhaust himself with trying to land blows on
him, then when they begin to get messy with their stance, he has them at their knees with their
weapon dropped to the floor in only a few seconds.

Jungkook has seen Min Yoongi plow down men left and right on the battlefield with little else than a
polearm and a triumphant smile on his face.

It’s breathtaking if Jungkook is honest.

In many ways, Yoongi is very similar in bed. It’s always a game of patience with him. If Jungkook
isn’t vigilant, he can be completely tired out by him.

Tonight, is similar. Jungkook has been waiting for him, lying under the heavy weight of his watchful
eye as he draws him, taking his time to ‘get all the details right’ as he claims. All the while, Jungkook
becomes more and more impatient and restless and aroused.

He’s practically vibrating for Yoongi’s touch by now.

It hurts his pride a little.

Yoongi has done barely anything to him, yet he’s near falling apart.

He’s disarming; always saying and doing things that Jungkook’s never expected from another person
in his life. He calls him pretty. He tells him no.

It’s maddening.

“Yoongi-”

“Shh, what did I say about letting me take care of you? Don’t you get tired? You have a world at
your feet, don’t you find it exhausting? Don’t you want me to make it all go away? Just for tonight?”

Those are difficult questions, but Jungkook has a simple answer,

“Please,”

Having your clothing literally ripped off of you is a feeling akin to having cold water poured over
your head. It makes Jungkook’s back arch.

“Please,”

When Yoongi finally touches him, finally wraps a firm hand around his length, he can almost feel the
tears pricking at his eyes.

“Please, Yoongi,”

Jungkook has had two years to get used to the feeling of the word on his tongue but the act of
begging still makes his skin feel hot and his muscles twitch.

Yoongi reaches behind himself on the bed and pulls out a vial and Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut at the
feeling of an oil coated finger circling the sensitive skin around his hole.

“Relax, Jungkook-ah. Focus on feeling good,”

The pleasure feels like waves going under the surface of his skin, moving through his entire being,
making him tremble.

“I want-”

“Hmm?”

“I want to make you feel go-good too.”

“You want to make me feel good?”

Jungkook bites his lip and nods, letting out a sigh when Yoongi’s petal soft lips make contact with
his skin,

“Be good for me, then, make yourself a nice, tight, little hole,”

If anyone else tried to say something like that to him,

their head would have been disconnected from the rest of their body before they got half of the
sentence out.

That doesn’t happen to Min Yoongi though. Jungkook does as he’s told and lets Yoongi fuck him so
hard the bed shakes. And it feels,

amazing.

The sky is clear and the winds are strong. The sun beats down on them with little mercy.

Jungkook can only think of the small crying faces he left behind at the palace. They fit perfectly,
cradled in his hands.

(“Be good for Papa, don’t cry, Lotus, you’re a princess. Look after your brother, alright?”)

The Silla king isn’t expecting an amphibious[ii] attack. He isn’t anticipating Goryeo ships to sail
from the southern Tang waters.

His army isn’t prepared.

The sea water rocks the royal ship from side to side. In time, the drummer beats the drum and the
rowers row to his rhythm. Jungkook raises his telescope and watches the ships ahead of his own
already docked onto the southern shores of Silla. They’ve been camped there for a week now.
The ship creaks and groans as it’s pulled to the shallow waters of the seashore. In the distance, he
can see Taehyung and Jimin standing on the beach, waiting for him. Yoongi stands to their side.

It’s the first time Jungkook has seen his face in nearing three weeks.

He almost can’t hear the drum beats over the rushing of his blood in his ears. The desire to feel
Yoongi, to be sure he’s real and okay and in one piece buzzes beneath the surface of his fingertips
like a slow burning ache.

Jungkook wants to run to him and bury his face in his robe like Youngho always does when he
misses someone.

“Sire,”

“Brothers. Lord Min,”

They bow.

“Don’t stand on ceremony here, please.”

Taehyung slides an arm around his shoulder and Jimin pats a hand on his cheek,

“You must be tired, let’s make our way for the main tent.”

His brothers walk ahead and Yoongi lingers behind, matching his gait with the king’s.

“How does it feel to be home?”

Yoongi chuckles,
“Considering I’m a captive lord that sold out his nation to a foreign invader, not terrible, no.”

“Yoongi-”

“Relax, it’s in jest. The current Silla royal family have brought nothing but suffering to our people.
They practically welcomed us when we first came. Most of the nobility is on our side as well.”

Jungkook is relieved to hear this, it was one of the lord’s assurances that he’d been banking on the
most since organizing this campaign.

Once they enter the tactical tent, Yoongi steps away from him. He misses the proximity immediately
but says nothing.

“We’ve had the capital city surrounded for going on to five days. King Silseong[iii] seems intent on
letting his people starve before surrendering but on your majesty’s orders the Sword Order has been
dispatched to capture him. They should return by sun up, and the head Silla generals will have no
choice but to surrender.”

“Very well. Taehyung, I’m granting you this principality.”

“It will be my honor, sire.”

“Brothers, we’ve finally done it. We’ve united the Three Kingdoms.”

There’s a round of cheer shaking the tent. Jungkook can’t stop thinking about Hoseok on his mission
off in the capital.

“Sire, Mi Geom is seeking audience,”

“Please, send him in, Dong Rim-ah.”

Jungkook pulls idly at the strings of his gayageum, tuning the instrument. He hears some commotion
and his guard’s tired sigh from the corridor.

“Wonhyung-ah, relax. Someone would think you were scared of me.”

Jungkook smiles to himself at Hoseok’s teasing.

Hoseok looks winded, like he ran all the way to his chambers from the other side of the palace,
which he most probably did as his own rooms were quite a distance away. Jungkook is unsure what
could have brought on such urgency.

“When will you leave my poor guard alone? He has a wife and family to think of.”

Hoseok merely smirks and walks over to his drawing table, pouring himself a drink. There are only
two men alive that would act so boldly as to drink the king’s wine.

“I have no idea, what would make you think I’m harassing him. I simply want to make friends.”

His lips purse slightly and Jungkook could almost laugh at the way his expression is almost identical
to the princess’s when she has to take needlework lessons.

“Hmm.”

Hoseok swirls the cup in his hand and glances at his gayageum.

“Was your majesty playing something?”

Jungkook plays a scale for him in response, glancing at him coyly through his lashes.

“What brings you to my chambers so late at night?”

And it is late. Yoongi should be making an appearance any moment now.

Hoseok chuckles to himself, trailing a fingertip along the mouth of the cup of wine. Downing its
contents and placing the cup down, he slinks over to him, and Jungkook’s chest tightens at the
purpose and assuredness that sounds in his solid footsteps.

“I received something today, your majesty.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, curiosity piqued at the way Hoseok is taking his time to get to what he
wants to say to him.

The assassin’s hands drop to the string at the front of his robes and he undoes them. Jungkook’s
breath catches in his throat. He pulls the sides of his outer robe apart.

“Wh-what-”

He reaches into the side pocket located inside and pulls out a sizeable ornamented envelope. From
the top he slips out a folded bit of paper.

Jungkook isn’t sure what’s inside, but he’s immediately suspicious. Something about the mischief
dancing in his eyes at what he’s holding doesn’t sit quite right with the king.

“You know, your majesty’s… good friend paid me a visit today.”

Jungkook feels the familiar itch of impatience at the back of his neck,

“Who?”

“A certain… Lord Min Yoongi.”

He waves the paper at him again, and even though it’s still folded, Jungkook’s heart drops to his gut.
 Jungkook won’t even bother with calling for his guards, no. He’s going to kill Min Yoongi himself.

“He didn’t,”

“Oh, yes, your majesty, he did.”

With that, Hoseok unfolds the paper and turns it around so Jungkook can see.

He curses.

Chapter End Notes

[i] Informal Korean, used between people with an intimate or familiar relationship.
Especially inappropriate when there is a difference of rank and used to address a
superior.

[ii] A martial tactic involving moving troops onto enemy land through invasion from a
body of water.

[iii] Silseong of Silla, 18th ruler, died in 417

 Hwayang-dong, Seoul, 3:00 A.M.
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Namjoon rubs at his eyes, the light of his laptop the only thing to brighten the otherwise pitch dark of
his studio apartment.

He reaches blindly on the surface of his desk for his phone. His hand hits something and hears a
crash of what sounds like his plastic cup of pencils clattering to the floor. A cringe crosses his face at
the sound but he continues searching until his fingers hit a crack glass surface.

He’s forgotten to turn down the brightness and has to squint at the screen with one eye closed as he
adjusts to the change in lighting. After finding the contact he’s looking for, he puts the phone to his
ear and listens to the dull sound of the ring.

Hyosang picks up after the third ring,

“Namjoon? It’s like… fucking 3 in the morning.”

His voice is gritty and rough with sleep, and Namjoon feels bad, he really does, but,

“Listen, I’m so sorry okay, like, really, but you won’t believe what I’ve fucking found today at St.
Germain’s, you really, won’t fucking believe.”

There’s some rustling of sheets on the other end and the sound of Hyosang’s girlfriend mumbling at
him to go back to sleep, then he sighs,

“Okay, tell me since I won’t be sleeping again any time soon.”

“Sang-ah, I found… I found my proof. You know? About Dongreyong[i] the Taewang[ii] of
Goryeo. I was looking at the royal portrait with Left Minister Min Yoongi and saw there was another
paper tucked into the frame. The family that donated it must have forgotten it was in there or
something, but, I took it out and it’s, well.”
 Hyosang hums, waiting for him expectantly to continue.

“It’s… a painting. But… anyway, there’s a letter written on the back. Listen, this is a goddamn gold
mine for my research, I don’t know how this wasn’t found before.”

“What does it say?”

Namjoon takes a breath.

“It’s really as the rumours said, Sang-ah. They were in love. But that’s not all,”

Chapter End Notes

[i] Jungkook’s courtesy/royal name. Used posthumously

[ii] Taewang, meaning “Great King”. Similar to Dawang in mandarin.

 part vii
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Queen Mother Soondeok exudes the kind of elegance and grace only someone of her station can
manage. Jungkook has never seen anyone else tend to a garden so prettily, but his mother does.

It’s a pity. He loves her, very much so, but never has the time to visit her. He barely even gets to see
his own children, with all his responsibilities, but he meets with his mother even less.

“My Son,”

She smiles at him brightly and waves a hand. Jungkook feels a warmth and happiness from hearing
her voice so strong it almost resembles an ache.

“I’ve missed you, Mother.”

“How do you miss someone that lives just next door?”

She’s only teasing, but the smile on his face falters a little,

“Oh, no darling, I know how busy you are, I was only jesting. Tell me, how does Youngho like the
cakes I sent to his chambers?”

Jungkook nods, “I’m sure he’s eaten them all and not shared a single one. The children would have
accompanied me, but they have their lessons.”

His mother hands the blooms she’s picked off to her head attending lady, and brushes imaginary dust
from her robes. Dirt wouldn’t dare soil her clothes, not his mother.

“Come inside, let me get you some tea- oh, look at your face, have you been eating?”
There she goes, fussing at him.

Jungkook can’t help the grin on his face. He thinks he could have done much worse, as far as queen
mothers go. His great great grandmother used to duel with her sons in the training hall.

Inside his mother’s pavilion, he sees Jimin and Taehyung’s mothers have already gathered. He may
be a king, but they are his elders and much higher in rank than he. He presents them with a deep bow
before sitting before them.

“Doesn’t he look a little drawn? And pale?”

The dowager consorts all hum in agreement, and Dowager Consort Park sends her attending maid to
run to her own pavilion to fetch him some ginseng that she’d gotten from her home in Baekje.
Speaking of which,

“Royal Mothers[i], I’m sure news has reached you of the terrible blizzard that hit the Northern
Baekje region. Much of the farmland has been flooded and the granary is dangerously low on food
reserves for the people. I’ve ordered taxation pardons for the area, but I came to ask that you help
organize some relief efforts here in the palace.”

The three women all sigh and tsk in concern and sympathy, and Dowager Consort Kim speaks up,

“I’m ready to donate half of my jewels and fine fabrics to help pay for food and other necessities.”

His mother nods eagerly and Dowager Consort Park also hums her agreement. Then,

“Is that young noble, Min Yoongi going to be in charge of it? I heard you’re promoting him to Left
Minister.”

Jungkook doesn’t want to blush, because he knows his mother is asking precisely to tease him, but
when have things ever gone as he likes?

“Where did you hear that, Mother?”

She smiles wickedly at him as she sips delicately from her cup of tea,

“My spies are everywhere.”

He sighs,

“Yes, along with Right Minister Kim.”

Dowager Consort Kim looks pleased to hear her nephew is also involved,

“I’m sure Seokjin will do his best to honour your majesty and the people.”

Jungkook agrees.

“By the way, darling, I haven’t seen Jung Hoseok around much lately, how is he doing?”

Gods.

“All Bow in deference to His Majesty the King”

Two court attendants push open the large heavy doors of the court hall before bowing to allow
Jungkook through. All the officials are prostrate as he walks by them and up to sit at his throne.
Everyone looks nervous to hear his royal decree.

Good.

Jungkook nods to Dong Rim who holds the scroll with his order.
“Hear His Majesty’s Royal Decree,”

The hall falls silent. Jungkook’s fingers tap at the gold carving of a dragon on the arm of his throne.

“Lord Min Yoongi of Silla has shown merit, courage, and talents that have glorified Goryeo. He has
aided his majesty in his various conquests and has acted with valour. He will be appointed to the
position of Left Minister and awarded 200 gold taels and 50 pyeongs[ii] of land.”

There is a murmur among the other officials as Yoongi emerges from where he was among them to
stand to the left of his throne, across from where Seokjin stands. Jungkook glances at the latter, who
nods stiffly at Yoongi in greeting.

There is a commotion from the faction of Northern Goryeo lords. Lord Kang steps forward and
speaks up,

“If your majesty will forgive me for speaking out of turn, Min Yoongi is from Silla. It wouldn’t be
prudent to award him of such a high office, no matter his… many… talents.”

He deliberates meaningfully on the last words and clears his throat behind his sleeve.

Jungkook barely suppresses the urge to roll his eyes.

“Does your excellency think me a fool?”

Kang’s eyes widen significantly, and he scrambles to bow deeply,

“Never, your majesty, I wouldn’t dare!”

“Then, do you perhaps, believe I am of poor judgement?”

Kang clears his throat again, uncomfortably, and doesn’t raise his head from the bow.
Jungkook allows himself to indulge in a smirk,

“I know your excellency wouldn’t dare question the Mandate of Heaven.”

Kang’s comrades among the northern lords all bow as well,

“Please, your majesty, appease your anger,”

“You lot never fail to waste my time. If you want promotions for yourselves, perhaps… do
something worthy of promotion. Do go on, Dong Rim-ah.”

His head eunuch nods to him and continues,

“Accept His Majesty’s royal command!”

All the officials in the court bow to him and recite in unison,

“Your Majesty’s wisdom and grace is boundless![iii]”

Yoongi catches his eye for a moment and raises his eyebrow in amusement.

“What’s next on the agenda?”

Dong Rim folds up the scroll in his hand and reaches for a new one.

“His Majesty’s people in Northern Baekje are suffering after a terrible blizzard has caused the
granaries to run low on food and resources. The plight of his people is of utmost important. Lord Min
of Silla and Lord Kim of Northern Goryeo have been assigned jurisdiction over royal relief efforts.”
Seokjin stiffens beside him but makes no response. He and Yoongi both bow and recite their
acceptance of his command.

Jungkook adjusts the tie on his robe absentmindedly,

“If that will be all, I’m going to close court for the day.”

The court responds in unison,

“Yes, your majesty, all hail Your Majesty the King!”

The king makes his exit, in desperate need of a drink.

Jungkook’s father built the Spring Palace for his mother, who as a northern lord’s daughter, hated the
harsh Goryeo winters and would often fall ill. The palace is located a three-day boat ride southeast of
Kangsang on a secluded island covered with a cluster of hot springs. The springs heat the palace and
keep the island in a perpetual summer. No matter how many kingly duties he has, Jungkook always
makes a point to travel there at least once a year if courtly matters allow. If he can’t make it, he sends
Youngha and Youngho to vacation there.

Usually, it's a royal family tradition to go to the Spring Palace after the Final Autumn Harvest, but
Jungkook has decided to allow himself an early vacation ahead of the rest of the family and makes
his way to the palace on his own. He’s travelled light, only bringing Wonhyung and Dong Rim with
him in the hopes of finding some time to himself to…

Process.

Jungkook never imagined he would have been able to achieve his dream- the dream of the Goryeo
royal lineage to unite the Three Kingdoms so early in his reign. His entire life has been leading to
this moment, yet somehow, he feels…
Empty?

What now? It’s a question that has been sounding in the vacant spaces of his mind like a chorus, a
refrain. One that has seeped into the marrow of his bones like a midwinter frost.

Jungkook should feel at peace, but all he feels is an anxiety. A worry that it’s still not enough.

He needs this time at the Spring Palace.

As the royal dhow[iv] pulls into the shore of Spring Palace Island, Jungkook can already feel the
early winter chill begin to dissipate in the air as the warmth from the hot springs reaches him on the
deck. Dong Rim and Wonhyung accompany him on the small ferry to the beach where they are met
by the attendants stationed on the island carrying his royal palanquin. The ride to the palace, which is
tucked away further inland and surrounded by a bamboo wood, is short and eventless.

Dong Rim goes ahead of their party to be sure the palace has been prepared to his standards. When
he finally exits the palanquin at the palace gate, he’s more than ready to get into a hot spring bath and
relax. His head attendant, however, seems to be agitated.

“What’s wrong, Dong Rim-ah?”

He deliberates for a moment, then sighs,

“Your majesty arranged for… guests?”

No, he didn’t.

“Who could possibly have gotten passed the royal guard and entered the-”

Does he really have to ask?

There is a saying that the Dokkaebi[v] only comes around when you think of him, and of course-
“Your majesty, we truly need to stop meeting like this.”

Jungkook sighs, already accepting defeat,

“Dong Rim said visitors?”

“Good evening sire,”

Ah, there he is.

“What… are you two doing… together… and in my palace?”

Hoseok smiles wide,

“Just enjoying the hot springs, your majesty.”

Wonhyung grunts audibly from where he stands behind the king,

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet an old friend so far away from the Palace, Lee Wonhyung.”

Jungkook shakes his head as he pushes past Yoongi and Hoseok who are standing casually before
him,

“Leave Wonhyung alone, Jung Hoseok.”

“I told you I would take matters into my own hands, sire.”

“No one asked you to, Min Yoongi.”

“All the same,”

Jungkook turns his attention to Hoseok who sits off on a lying bench, wafting the steam from a fresh
cup of tea to his nose,

“And you. Since when do you play along with his schemes?”

He shrugs,

“Since he managed to land a blow on me when I went to go capture him in Silla.”

That was years ago. Figures they would be in leagues all this time. Hoseok sounded far too
impressed with Min Yoongi the first night he came to announce his return to Goryeo with the
southern lord in tow.

“Relax. Why don’t you just enjoy some time away from the capital with your two favourite people?”

Jungkook smirks,

“You’ve brought Youngha and Youngho with you?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his tea,

“They don’t count. They’re everyone’s favourite people.”

Yoongi, who plucks at the strings of a gayageum, tuning it, chuckles and mutters under his breath so
only Jungkook, who sits closest to him, can hear,
“Uncle Seokie makes a good point.”

Having had his fill of their nonsense, Jungkook gets up, making his way for the bathhouse. Yoongi
plucks at a string too hard and the twang rings through the entire chamber.

“Where do you think you’re going, Jeon Jungkook?”

He freezes where he stands. He’s not downed enough cups of wine to deal with the way his left
minister’s voice deepens, least of all the way his own body responds to it.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Jungkook swallows, hoping neither of them catch the way he
shivers subconsciously, “But, I’ll be going to the bathhouse.”

“So soon? We haven’t had a chance to enjoy each other’s company yet.”

Dealing with Hoseok or Yoongi alone is its own battle, but with the two of them in his chambers like
this…

His skin heats up with a buzz just thinking about it.

It’s all too much and yet not enough.

“You royals have always been so very… greedy.”

It’s true. He wants so much. He wants the world at his feet, he wants all knees bowed in his
presence, he wants power, he wants glory…

And he wants them,

both of them.

Jeon Jungkook is not willing to compromise, either. It’s not in his nature; he’s a king.

“Of course, just one of us isn’t enough for him, your excellency. He’s always been spoiled since he
was a young prince.”

He should bristle to hear Hoseok speak about him as if he’s not just right there, but his skin only
breaks out in goosebumps instead.

They’ve disarmed him, got him spread out on the bed between the two of their forms, their bodies
radiating heat onto his already warm flesh. He’s completely at their mercy so there’s no point in
putting on airs; he wants to feel them. Everywhere.

“Please,”

Hoseok clucks, “It’s going to take some time to get used to hearing you say that, your majesty.”

Jungkook bites his lip, makes no attempt to conceal his flush.

“There’s no better sound in the world, is there?”

The assassin nods in agreement with the minister.

They begin with feather-light touches,

brushing their fingertips here and there,

he can’t help how responsive he is to them, how everywhere he feels them he cants his body up for
more,
he’s always been greedy,

it’s what’s got him where he is.

Hoseok is aggressive, more forward with his caresses, he doesn’t tease if he doesn’t have to, opting
instead to sear trails of molten lava along his bare skin where his lips and hands touch. He bites over
marks leftover from before, gives them new life and a new owner. He tucks one of his legs over his
shoulder, letting his deft assassin’s hand smooth over the ligament of his thigh and calf. Jungkook’s
vision goes white when he feels his hot mouth envelope his aching cock, and he wants to cry out

Yoongi is coy, lighter and more restrained with his touch. He loves to tease even if he doesn’t have
to. He slides two fingers into Jungkook’s open mouth and presses down on his tongue, muffling his
moan. He brings a hand to his jaw to force Jungkook to look into his eyes instead of watch Hoseok
swallow him down, the look he gives him is almost too much.

Jungkook’s eyes go crossed when the deft assassin’s fingers that had been innocuously caressing
him, begin to circle around his hole, smearing warm oil over the sensitive skin. He presses them in,
and scissors them, spreading them out and Jungkook’s walls along with them. Hoseok presses
against a patch that feels especially magnificent and he gasps and groans.

Yoongi tsks at him and Jungkook feels the rush of blood under his skin,

“You’re enjoying this too much, your majesty. Thank the gods I’m not a jealous man.”

Hoseok grunts around his length and the feeling makes Jungkook jerk. He pulls off with a cough,
voice deeper and raspier than before,

“Contain yourself, sire,”

It’s embarrassing.

Yoongi manoeuvres the king to straddle his hips, and he bites his lip at the feeling of the head of his
cock brushing against his hole, pearls of come wetting at his skin.
Yoongi’s face is mostly neutral and teasing, but his cloudy eyes betray how far gone he is, how
aroused.

Jungkook lowers himself on him and sighs. Yoongi grits his teeth,

“You don’t know how damned good-”

“More.”

Yoongi looks at him in surprise and Hoseok’s lips that had previously been trailing along his
shoulder, halt.

“What?”

Jungkook shakes his head, not wanting to repeat himself,

“…your majesty… wants… more?”

He buries his face in the crook of his left minister’s neck,

he just wants… more.

He can hear the smirk in the rumble of Yoongi's voice where their chests meet,

“To think the Goryeo king could behave like such a greedy little whore. Jeon Jungkook, you’re full
of surprises.”

It shouldn’t make his cock twitch, but it does. He moans.

Hoseok doesn’t waste time teasing him more, he trails a finger along his rim before guiding another
in, then another and so on. It’s some time and Jungkook has to breathe through his nose, has to
 consciously keep his abdominal muscles from tightening too much, and the hardest of all, keep
himself from finishing early.

Yoongi doesn’t seem all that well off either,

“So… damned… tight.”

When Hoseok enters him as well, Jungkook is sure the entire Spring Palace knows.

It feels amazing. He feels so full.

“I’m-”

“Please!”

It’s later, when the three of them lay panting side by side on Jungkook’s large bed that he realizes.
That the weight of it all hits him.

He’s really just slept with both of them.

At the same time.

And…

it was the best he’s felt in a long time.

Chapter End Notes

[i] As wives of his father, the former king, Jungkook must address both his biological
mother, the dowager queen, and the dowager consorts, as ‘Mother’

[ii] A pyeong, (abbreviated py) is a Korean unit of space and area measure equivalent to
a square kan, or 36 square Korean feet.

[iii] In royal court proceedings, there are various ceremonies and protocols to follow
after the issue of royal decree.

[iv] Ancient middle-sized watercraft used on coastal and inland waters and moderate
distance sea travel.

[v] Korean mythical creature similar to the Western Goblin.

 part viii
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Jungkook feels hot all over. He throws an arm across his face as Hoseok works his hips over him.

He feels,

so tight,

so good.

“H-hoseok.”

The assassin smacks his arm away and takes firm hold of his jaw,

“Look at me.”

It almost hurts to. He’s flushed along the high points of his sword sharp cheekbones and his black
veil lies across his face, obscuring half of it from view. Jungkook wants to reach up and rip it off, but
Hoseok forces both arms up above his head by the wrists.

“Watch me use your cock like my personal toy. Look at you, look how ruined you look. You love
being used like this.”

It’s not a question, and it’s true.

Hoseok has twice his stamina and it shows. Jungkook knows he’s a mess; hair everywhere, thin
sheen of sweat all over. Save for the slight blush tinging his skin Hoseok, however, looks almost
unaffected. It drives Jungkook mad.

It’s not fair.

Hoseok’s not fair.

He squeezes around him like a vice, and Jungkook has to curse,

“Please, Hoseok-ah,”

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Please,”

Jungkook silently wills him to say it.

Say his name.

“Jungkook-ah, hyungnim is making you feel good?”

He is. Jungkook nods helplessly.

“So, let go for me.”

Jungkook isn’t in the practice of doing what others tell him to do. He doesn’t have to be, he’s the
king. But when Jung Hoseok tells him to let go,

he does,

and his vision goes white.

Jungkook lies back on his fine silk bedding, watching as his head assassin slips into his clothes.
“I’ll be sure to bring back Lord Kang’s head on a platter for his majesty.”

The king groans,

“Please don’t talk about killing after you’ve just fucked yourself on my cock.”

Hoseok shrugs, readjusting the veil on his face and bending over to pick up his discarded sword,

“You enjoy it.”

It may be true, but that’s not the point.

Hoseok has a foot out the entrance to his chambers,

“Mi Geom-ah.”

“Your majesty?”

“It’s about time for you to settle down and get married,” Jungkook can’t help the smirk that spreads
across his face, “should I confer marriage to some wealthy lord’s daughter to you?”

Hoseok doesn’t miss a beat,

“It’s not good to speak such nonsense so close to your supper, sire. It’s bad for digestion.”

With that, he leaves.

He’s on his way to the training grounds. Jimin is running drills with the palace guard and Jungkook
often likes to oversee and occasionally join in spars with the guards. The path to the grounds goes
past the royal archive library, and he’s suddenly hit with the idea that he’d want to stop by and pay
his two prime ministers a visit and see how they are progressing with the relief efforts.

As he nears the large door guarding the library, he signals to Wonhyung and Dong Rim to be quiet
and wait for him outside. He’ll only be a moment.

Jungkook doesn’t really plan on interrupting their work, just hopes to pop in, and well,

perhaps he wants to see his left minister’s face, since he hasn’t in a while.

It’s not the hushed voices that make him halt, however, but the urgency and tension that pervades
their tones.

“Don’t get bold, Min Yoongi. You’re just as disposable to him as the rest of us.”

“That may be true, Kim Seokjin, but all the same. You can’t cover the sun with the palm of your
hand.”

“I don’t waste my time with idle threats, Min. I’m being gracious enough as it is, warning you like
this. This is far above where your minimal power and influence can reach. Worry about yourself. We
both know you’re not innocent as you want people to believe.”

Jungkook staggers back, heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing in his ears.

“Your majesty?”

Dong Rim sounds concerned but the suddenness of his query only serves to startle Jungkook more.

What could they have been talking about? What were they hiding?
What did Seokjin mean by ‘you’re not so innocent yourself’?

“I-it’s nothing, Dong Rim-ah. I’m… fine.”

His stomach clenches in anxiety as he thinks over the exchange again and again. He’s disappointed
with himself for running away and not demanding the truth. He doesn’t want to believe any of it
even happened. Seokjin is his cousin. He’s married to the king’s own sister. He may not trust him
explicitly, on principle, but he’s still family. And Yoongi is his… well. Whatever it is they seem to be
hiding from him,

Jungkook hopes never gets uncovered. He can’t lose more people close to him.

It must be clear to Jimin how frazzled he is because the general immediately asks him if he’s sure
he’s in the right state to join in the sparring today. Jungkook shakes him off; sparring is exactly what
he needs right now, or he might lose his mind.

The guards show their weariness very obviously. Everyone keeps their distance; only a few are
brave enough to face off with him. It’s only to their own detriment, however, as Jungkook takes the
opportunity to rid himself thoroughly of his frustration. He fights with vengeance and ferocity and
doesn’t stop until Jimin and Wonhyung have to plead with him to rest.

“What seems to be bothering you, brother?”

(“You’re just as disposable to him as the rest of us.”)

Why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t he argue? Yoongi couldn’t possibly have believed that?

“I think I’m just tired after a long day at court,”

“Take it easy, sire, your health is precious,”

Did Yoongi think Jungkook found him disposable? Does Yoongi find him disposable?
It’s true that they’d never formally discussed their relationship but Jungkook has always felt that
whatever they had had been mutual.

Now he’s not so sure.

“Lord Min seeks an audience,”

Jungkook’s heart falls to his stomach.

“Tell him I’m ill.”

“I know you’re there, your majesty!”

Yoongi barges into his chambers, struggling past Wonhyung who tries to hold him back, and an
exhausted looking Dong Rim,

“Alright, alright, come in.”

Yoongi readjusts his robes before bowing to him,

“Sire,”

Jungkook gets up from where he is tuning his gayageum to pour himself a drink from his drawing
table. He pointedly ignores Yoongi.

“What’s happened, Jeon Jungkook-”

“Why are you here? I mean, why are you really here? What do you want from me?”
Yoongi’s facial expression hardens and Jungkook isn’t sure if the look is hurt or indifferent. He
swallows,

“...Your majesty, what’s brought this on?”

He’s calmer now, addressing him formally. Jungkook wants to scream. He wants to communicate…
something, anything to the lord.

His hurt,

his confusion,

his-

no. It’s too late for that now, it seems.

“Why is the king the weakest chess piece in the game?”

Yoongi stares at him silently, studying him before he answers,

“Because he has too much to lose,”

Jungkook shakes his head,

“Because he doesn’t have anyone around him that can see past his crown.”

“Jungkook-”

“Please don’t- don’t call me that. Just tell me why we’re doing… all this.”
“If I told you I had no ulterior motives would you even believe me? I don’t know what you heard or
who’s poisoned your mind with untruths, but I have always-”

He cuts himself off and shakes his head.

“You’ve always what?”

Yoongi bows to him,

“I suppose I’ve come to meet you at the wrong time. I will come visit your majesty later.”

Jungkook could scream at him right now. He’s being so… impossible.

“Answer the question, Min Yoongi.”

Instead the minister turns on his feet and walks to the sliding doors leading out of his chambers. He’s
about to leave, but he pauses.

“Your majesty will be glad to hear that the relief efforts for Baekje are coming along well.”

That’s not what he wants to hear.

“You know, perhaps the king is so weak not because there's no one around him that can see past his
crown, but because he can’t see past it himself.”

“Youngha agissi and Youngho seja joha are here to see your majesty,”

Jungkook sighs, putting aside the volume of The Analects [i] he’s copying over.
“Bring them in,”

As usual, Youngho speeds in, nearly slipping on the polished wood floor in his silken socks,

“Papa!”

Court Lady Seon hisses at him in warning from where she stands waiting outside in the corridor,

“You are old enough to start calling him Your Majesty, your highness.”

Youngho flies into his arms, and Jungkook can hear sniffles muffled through his robes. Youngha
rolls her eyes at him conspiratorially, and he can’t help but smile.

“Youngho can call me Papa for as long as he likes,”

The court lady sounds embarrassed when she replies,

“Yes… your majesty, I was wrong.”

She can’t see from where she stands, but Youngha cheekily sticks a tongue out in her direction.
Jungkook wishes he hadn’t spoiled them so much, but he can’t help it. He merely pushes a loose
lock of hair out of her face and kisses her temple.

His children are his everything.

He can’t afford to be hurt by those around him when he has something so precious to protect.

“Oh, that’s right Papa, I have a surprise for you,”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow,

“Is it a honey cake from the kitchens?”

Youngha and Youngho both giggle at him,

“No, Papa! Uncle Yoon taught me a poem!”

Jungkook’s heart clenches and he feels his smile tighten,

“Really, Lotus? Let’s hear it.”

The young princess takes a few steps back to stand before him. Jungkook takes the moment to
admire his daughter; she’s grown so much over the years to be accomplished like her mother. It isn’t
usual to allow a princess to train in martial arts, but Donghui had been a general’s daughter and it
was only right to let her only daughter follow in her footsteps. He’s proud to leave the safety of
Goryeo and the royal lineage in her and her brother’s hands after he’s gone.

She clears her throat and straightens her back, hands clasped before her,

“Hit the yellow oriole perch,

Curb its singing on the branch.

The song broke my dream,

And kept me from Liaoxi![ii]”

Jungkook is impressed,

“Jin Changsoo-nim?”

Youngha nods,
“It’s a poem about longing.”

Jungkook quirks his head to the side in amusement,

“Who is my Lotus longing for, who has caught her eye?”

Youngha sighs and makes a disgusted face at him,

“Not my longing, Papa. Uncle Yoon was reciting this when I went to take my lessons from him this
morning. He’s the one longing.”

Jungkook knows his face has fallen because suddenly Youngha looks confused. After a moment,
realization glimmers in her eye. Jungkook sometimes wishes his children weren’t always so clever.

“You should see him, Papa.”

Jungkook flicks at her nose and she swipes at him, before stepping away at the sound of Court Lady
Seon clear her throat disapprovingly from outside the doors,

“And you should be preparing for bed.”

Youngha huffs and Youngho who has been suspiciously quiet all this time grunts his disagreement,
only for Jungkook to laugh in realization that he’d already fallen asleep in his arms.

“Off you two go, I have important matters to attend to.”

Youngha scoffs,

“Come on Youngho-yah, Papa wants to sulk in peace.”

Jungkook’s heart pounds out of his chest as he watches the young palace maid charged with tasting
his food carried away. The attendants take her, and on their way out, Jungkook catches a pale lifeless
hand fall from the stretcher. He turns his attention to the man being restrained and forced to bow at
his feet. Seokjin coughs and pulls his gaze away,

“Your majesty, Left Minister Min Yoongi has committed a terrible offence against the crown. He has
made an attempt on his majesty’s life and he cannot be let off. I beseech you to arrest him and get to
the bottom of this,”

Jungkook watches as the two men exchange a look, and his skin goes cold.

“Lord Min, what do you have to say in your defence,”

Yoongi’s eyes seem to plead with him, but Jungkook needs to hear the truth.

“I have… nothing to say, your majesty.”

He can’t believe his ears,

“What are you saying? You- you tried to kill me?”

Yoongi looks away and doesn’t answer. Something isn’t right. He can’t believe that this is true.

“Min Yoongi, the punishment for conspiracy against the crown is death. You will be executed as a
traitor. Your corpse will not be left intact.”

Yoongi’s jaw only sets firmer.

Jungkook’s hand trembles at his side. He clambors to hold on to the arm of his throne, to press his
fingertips against the gold carving of a dragon.
He wants to vomit.

“You can’t have been acting alone.”

Seokjin speaks up,

“Min Yoongi has hated your majesty ever since you captured him and forced him to join your court.
He has even become an ostracized lord in his motherland. He’d grown close to you, so he could
have the perfect opportunity to enact his revenge, your majesty. I beseech you to sentence him to
death!”

The other lords in court all bow in unison and recite along with him,

“Sentence him to death, your majesty!”

Jungkook squeezes so hard against the dragon’s teeth that he feels wetness begin to drip from his
palm,

“Your majesty!”

Dong Rim rushes to his side and calls for the imperial physician to come treat his injured hand.
Jungkook can’t take his eyes away from Min Yoongi.

Something isn’t right.

Yoongi breaks their eye contact, and the look on his face makes Jungkook’s stomach lurch.

He sighs,

“You’ve left me no choice, Min Yoongi,”

Jungkook orders the guards to take him to the Lateral Courts for interrogation.

Queen Donghui planted the Royal Lotus Garden after she first learned the news that she’d conceived
Youngha. The two of them would often spend afternoons together playing chess and sharing their
dreams for Goryeo- for the future.

Those days were fragranced with honeysuckle and jasmine and flavoured with persimmon juice.

These days are nothing like that.

“I simply do not understand, Mother.”

The Queen Mother had taken up tending to the garden after her daughter-in-law’s passing and was
currently trimming petals from the lotus blooms.

“Min Yoongi would never try to kill you.”

That much is obvious, but still. There is something he is keeping from him. Sometimes, lying is a far
worse offence.

“What is he hiding?”

“Perhaps, he is protecting you. Perhaps he’s found something out that will hurt you.”

Nonsense.

The suggestion alone is preposterous.

 “Am I so weak?”

His mother sighs and makes to stand. He rushes to her side to help her up. Jungkook looks down
when he feels her place a hand on his cheek. He remembers that touch from when he was a very
young child. His chest hurts and his eyes begin to sting.

“Jungkook-ah, you know that’s not the problem here,”

“What kind of King can’t even protect his own retinue? Do I even deserve to be called a king?”

His mother tsks at him and forces him to look into her eyes. Jungkook blinks rapidly to clear away
the blur in his vision,

“Only a truly great king could have people willingly die for him like this,”

Jungkook's never asked anyone to die for him.

Chapter End Notes

[i] The Analects by Confucius, studied intently by many statesmen

[ii] Spring Lament, a 5 word jueju poem by Jin Changxu from the late Tang Dynasty
 part ix
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

He’s almost got the image of the underside of his bed’s canopy completely memorized with how
long he’s stayed lying there. Jungkook just can’t bring himself to want to go to morning assembly.
He doesn’t want to face the court officials.

He doesn’t want to face his cousin.

Most of all, he doesn’t want to face the now empty spot to the left of his throne where his minister
used to stand.

His sheets feel cold despite the layers of nightclothes he has on and copious number of quilts he’s
asked for.

He’s miserable.

When they were only children, Seokjin’s father, the former Right Minister Kim would bring him to
the palace to join the royal princes for their studies and training. Back then, Jungkook used to look
up so much to Seokjin. He and Hoon used to follow their hyungnim around the palace grounds all
day while the other princes would be trained in military tactics and sword fighting.

Seokjin hyungnim would always come bearing sweets or entertaining stories about the world outside
the palace and was the only person brave enough to stand up to the older princes, who were going
through their more rambunctious stage, when they played pranks on the younger two.

Even after Hoon was banished from the palace, Seokjin was always a confidant and close friend to
him. Although they drifted apart and had their own politics, Jungkook always knew that at the end of
the day, Seokjin was still the hyungnim that would sneak him honeyed rice cakes during his literature
lessons.

Jungkook wants to understand him, wants to see where he’s coming from with all this. He wants to
know why he’s accused Yoongi of such a terrible crime, and why Yoongi’s just gone along with it.
He’s never felt more incompetent in his life.

“Your majesty, Mi Geom is seeking an audience,”

“Let him in,”

Hoseok rushes into his chamber. He has dark red streaks dried on his face and his expression is
furrowed in concern and alarm; Jungkook thinks he hasn’t missed someone so much in his life.

“H-hoseok-ah,”

He doesn’t intend for his voice to waver.

“I came as soon as I could, sire, what is going on? Min Yoongi is in the Lateral Courts?”

The Goryeo king wishes he knew himself.

“Hoseok-ah? Am I really so pathetic that my own two ministers would go to these lengths? I can’t
even control the people around me, how am I fit to lead a nation?”

Hoseok sighs.

“How long have you known me, your majesty?”

Jungkook answers automatically, without even thinking,

“Since we were both children,”

“I’ve grown up with you, sire, I’ve been there with you through everything.”
He’s right,

“Never once in my life, have I ever felt you weren’t fit for your throne,”

Jungkook could argue-

“Until now.”

“Jung Hoseok-”

The assassin puts up a hand,

“The man you love was framed and thrown into jail on trumped up charges and what are you doing?
Sitting here lamenting that he lied to you? That he tried to protect you?”

Jungkook doesn’t have anything to say,

“You want to uncover something? Then uncover it. Or are you too scared of what you’ll find out?”

“Do you think if I thought for one minute that it was as simple as Yoongi being framed by Seokjin
hyungnim that I would be like this? If Seokjin was any other overeager court official with ambitions
too big for his reach, that I would have hesitated to arrest him myself? I may not trust him entirely,
but I know Kim Seokjin is an upstanding and noble man. Whatever it is both of them are trying to
cover up, whatever it is that has Seokjin so scared he’d let a man die… I… don’t think I want to
know.”

“So, you’ll just look the other way?”

Now Jungkook feels impatient,

“Did I say that?”

There’s no way in hell he’s not going to get to the bottom of things, but he’s… he’s still terrified.
He’s lived his entire life being haunted by the monsters the palace can turn even the best people into.
He never thought he’d be dealing with those same monsters so close to him.

“I know you’ll do what’s best.”

That’s exactly what scares him. What’s best might not mean Yoongi gets out of this alive.

“Hoseok-ah…”

“Mm?”

Just in case he doesn’t ever get a chance again,

“I love you.”

He smiles, the expression warm on his beautiful features,

“I love you too, your majesty. And so does he, that much I’ll admit. He wouldn’t be in this situation
if he didn’t.”

“Greetings your majesty!”

The guards at the Lateral Courts all bow to the ground before one of them scrambles to lead
Jungkook in. They stop at Yoongi’s cell and he unlocks the gate for him. Jungkook glances around
the dark, tiny space and his brain unhelpfully recalls images from years ago of the two of them in the
same spot. It’s not the same, though.

He turns around and nods at Wonhyung who steps forward with a wooden box. Jungkook opens it
and pulls out an elaborate jar made of jade and gold. He crouches by where Yoongi is sitting cross
legged on the floor. His eyes are closed, and his chest rises and falls rhythmically with his even
breathing. He doesn’t make any move to acknowledge his visitors.
Jungkook places the jar on a stool beside him, next to his tray of food which the lord has left
untouched.

“Do you recognize this jar?”

Yoongi cracks a tired eye open and glances at it.

“Yes, it was gifted to my father by Empress Wu Zetian[i] herself.”

Jungkook lifts the lid of the jar and tilts it towards him so he can see the contents,

“What’s this?”

Some of the gritty grey powder spills out of the jar and dissipates in the air. Jungkook covers his
mouth and nose with his sleeve. Yoongi doesn’t even flinch.

“Gu[ii] powder.”

“Where do you think Prince Jimin and the royal investigators found this poison?”

Yoongi stares at Jungkook, then glances at the guards and others standing around,

“Leave us.”

This time Wonhyung and Dong Rim don’t even bother to argue, they just usher themselves out of his
cell. It’s only the two of them. Yoongi regards him contemplatively,

“A few years ago, you asked me if we’d met before. Why?”

“Is that all you have to say to me?”

Yoongi smiles, and there is more sadness than mirth in the look,

“Humour me,”

He sighs,

“I don’t know. You’ve always felt… familiar to me, somehow. Like… I can’t explain.”

“That’s because we have met before. A very long time ago, I’m surprised you even vaguely
remembered.”

Jungkook folds his arm across his chest,

“What?”

“My father, the former Lord Min had been the Silla emissary to Goryeo under your father’s rule. My
mother had died giving birth to me, so Father would take me and my hyung with him on his
diplomatic travels. I remember, the king had conferred onto him a home so near the palace that I
could sometimes hear you and your brothers playing on the palace grounds from the other side of our
manor wall. Whenever Father entered the palace, he would bring me and my hyung along.”

“Your hyung is in Honshū[iii] now, correct?”

Yoongi nods silently and sighs, his hands fidget in his lap as though he is consciously trying to keep
them busy.

“He’s married into the Soga[iv] clan now,”

Jungkook nods. He’s not surprised, the Soga have close ties to the Baekje and Silla nobility.
“I attended the banquet your father threw to celebrate the grand princes’ 14th birthday.”

Jungkook remembers that day very well, but not- Oh.

“Impossible. That was you?”

Yoongi nods and Jungkook is flabbergasted. His older brothers’ birthday feast had been a day he
could never forget. The princes and their guests had been engaged in a game of Hide and Seek on
the grounds and Jungkook being the competitive little one that he was, had set upon climbing one of
the tall cherry trees by the palace pond. Then 16-year-old Dong Rim and 13-year-old Hoseok had
pleaded with him not to, but Jungkook’s never really been one to listen, least of all when he was a
young prince.

A lord’s son had been chosen to be the seeker and he’d been looking around the trunk of the tree
where Jungkook was hiding. He’d been so excited to have not been found that he’d shaken the
branch he was on a little too hard and a few summer berries had fallen on the boy’s head. He looked
up in surprise only to yell,

“Found you, your highness!”

Jungkook was so shocked he’d lost his balance and came tumbling out of the tree and splashed right
into the pond. He’d only been underwater for a few moments before hands had pulled him gasping
and flailing out of the water. When the water cleared from his eyes, he saw the lord’s son, drenched
from head to toe and Hoseok looking rather damp himself. Dong Rim ran to get help and Jungkook
was wrapped in dry clothes and confined to his chambers for the rest of the day. He’d been so caught
up, that he never had a chance to thank the lord’s son, and when he’d been let off his punishment,
the lord and his son were nowhere to be found.

He never would have thought…

“Min Yoongi.”

The chains around his wrists clang as he raises his hand to stroke at Jungkook’s cheek. His gaze is
far away.

“Would you believe me if I told you I was never able to forget you? The strange little prince that was
too brave and reckless for his own good?”

Jungkook can feel them pricking at his eyes. He cannot afford to let himself shed any tears right now.

“Min Yoongi, what was the poison used to kill me doing in your manor?”

He sighs and drops his hand, looking away.

“The young boy that saved your life,” Yoongi takes a deep breath, “He’s loved you since before you
even knew he existed. Isn’t it strange? How the heart works, your majesty?”

Jungkook wont- can’t listen to this. He needs to know the truth.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you protecting him?”

Yoongi takes his trembling hands in his,

“It’s not him that I’m protecting. Nevertheless. I didn’t want to die without you knowing. I love-
loved you.”

“Min Yoongi, speak to me! What is going on?”

But he refuses to say another word.

Hoseok collapses onto his bed with an exhausted sigh. Jungkook wants to scream.

“Jimin’s looked over the case again and again, he can’t find any holes in the story that could clear
Yoongi of this. I can’t keep stalling, Hoseok-ah. I’m being pressured by the court. And someone’s
died. That child’s parents will want justice and I can’t just not give it to them. But Yoongi’s just a
scapegoat and everyone knows it. If I let him be executed, the real killer, the person after me is going
to just go free. Is that Justice?”

Hoseok gets up and makes his way over to him,

“Do you love him?”

“Don’t you dare ask me that.”

Hoseok levels him with a glare,

“All the same.”

“Of- of course I do.”

Hoseok nods and takes a step back. Jungkook watches him wearily not liking the change in his
expression.

“To be completely honest, if it were me, I’d want you to let me protect you.”

“By letting you die?”

“Whatever was necessary.”

“What happened to being an unfit king?”

Hoseok looks away and sighs,

“I… I shouldn’t have said that to you. It was unfair.”

Jungkook feels sick.

“None of this, none of this makes any damned sense!”

Hoseok seems to be about to say something but Dong Rim clears his throat just outside his chambers,

“Your majesty’s mid-afternoon lunch has arrived.”

Jungkook instinctively waves his hand even though he knows Dong Rim can’t see,

“I’m not hungry.”

“Please your majesty, you must consider your health.”

“I said I’m not hungry.”

Dong Rim sighs,

“Sire, I beg of you, don’t make this difficult for us.”

Jungkook relents. If he doesn’t accept the meal, the attendants will be reprimanded.

“Fine.”

He watches blankly as Dong Rim steps into his chambers with a tray and lays it gently on a serving
table beside him.

He looks at the meal and feels completely uninspired to eat. Then they catch his eye. They’re
tangerines from Tamra[v].
They’re his favourite.

He picks one off the top of the pile and begins to peel it, only to notice that something has been
hidden in the middle of the fruit.

He breaks it in half and shows it to Hoseok who sniffs it and shakes his head. He doesn’t smell any
poison. Jungkook inspects it more closely and sees a tiny roll of rice paper. He pulls it out and unrolls
it only for his heart to fall.

“It’s his calligraphy.”

There in his former left minister’s handwriting, are four characters.

Tactical Retreat.

The characters are a deep red color. The southern lord wouldn’t have been allowed any ink in his
cell.

Jungkook upends the entire tray of food and refuses to see anyone for the rest of the day.

Yoongi is pale and wan and looks like he hasn’t eaten in days. He hasn’t if the jail guards’ reports
are anything to go by.

His eyes are closed, as they were when Jungkook met him days ago, and he’s breathing calmly and
serenely. Everyone has left the cell except for Hoseok and him.

“Yoongi. This is your last chance.”

He makes no attempt to reply.

Hoseok tries,

“Min Yoongi. You know this is wrong!”

The lord shrugs. His inky black hair falls forward over his shoulders and Jungkook stares blankly at
the blood stains on his plain prison clothes, feeling like his world is shattering.

“Jung Hoseok, I have something to ask of you.”

Jungkook looks up in surprise and interest but Yoongi shakes his head at him.

More secrets.

Hoseok hesitates before leaning down close to him while Yoongi whispers something in his ear. He
looks at Jungkook, then at Yoongi, then sighs. He looks exasperated.

“You know, Min Yoongi, I really want to understand you. But I really, truly can’t.”

Wonhyung calls from the other side of the barred gate,

“Your majesty, it’s getting late.”

“Come in,”

Wonhyung unlocks the gate door and steps into the cell, holding a gilded tray. He lays it before
Yoongi.

The Silla lord picks up the porcelain cup sitting in the middle of it and trails his index finger around
the rim.
 Jungkook refuses to let his voice break,

“This is the last thing I can do for you.”

He nods to Wonhyung who unscrolls his royal decree,

“The Lord Min Yoongi of Silla has been found guilty of conspiring against the crown and attempting
murder of His Majesty the King. Because of his contributions to the Goryeo state and his bravery on
the battlefield, he has been allowed the privilege of dying by royal poison. This has been His
Majesty’s Royal Command.”

Yoongi looks to Jungkook once before raising the cup to his lips. Jungkook turns away and walks
out of the cell. He has a foot out of the main door when he hears the crash of the cup shattering in the
distance behind him.

Chapter End Notes

[i] Tang Dynasty Empress, 624-705

[ii] Ancient Chinese poison made from keeping numerous venomous creatures within a
closed container to devour eachother and concentrate their toxins until one sole survivor
is left. The venom from that creature is used in making the poison.

[iii] Modern day mainland Japan during Yamato period, 300-710 AD

[iv] Powerful clan serving the Yamato court.

[v] Modern Day Jeju Island, a territory that has gone back and forth between Japanese
and Korean control over the years, famous for their rare tangerines historically only
made available to the royal and noble classes of the time.
 Jayang il-dong, Seoul, 4:00 P.M.

Five professors of the Konkuk University History Department sit before him behind a long table. On
it, in front of each of them, sits a thick pile of bound papers – his life’s work. 500 pages of the past
five years of his life that have been dedicated to this one moment.

“Kim Namjoon-ssi.”

His advisor, Professor Kwang calls out to him, smiling reassuringly. Namjoon can feel his hands
shaking. He clasps them behind his back.

“Y-yes, Gyosu-nim.”

“You may begin.”

And so, he does.

“Since I was a child, I’ve always been fascinated by the study of History, have dedicated my entire
academic career to it, but I’ve always felt somehow removed from my work. In my understanding,
the greatest gift the past can give us is a way to see ourselves, to understand our humanity. For years,
I’ve felt like an outsider, like someone who couldn’t enjoy the same comfort and insight that History
could grant others, simply because no matter how hard I searched, I could never find myself.

Being queer-”

Namjoon swallows nervously, but Kwang Gyosu-nim smiles and nods at him to continue,

“Being queer, I’ve experienced my fair share of struggling for acceptance, only made worse by the
fact that my haven, the thing I’d taken so much comfort from throughout my life, seemed to reject me
too. That changed when I began researching for my dissertation.

Jeon Jungkook, courtesy name Dongreyong, the second Taewang of Goryeo, and forth in the royal
line of Gwanggaeto the Great Conqueror of Goguryeo, reigned over Goryeo for fourteen years. My
research has revealed that the Taewang may very well have been the first recorded queer public
figure, let alone monarch in Korean history. For the first time in my life, I could see how history had
honoured and remembered someone like me; someone I could identify with.”
Namjoon swears internally at how his voice wavers at the last sentence. Cho Gyosu-nim clears her
throat as she flips through the pages of his thesis,

“You’ve done revolutionary and incredibly important work, here, Kim Namjoon,”

He bows immediately,

“Thank you so much, Gyosu-nim”

“Please explain to us your methods and procedures of study,”

His hand flies to the back of his neck to rub nervously and he only realizes he’s doing it a moment
after, as he self-consciously returns it to rest behind his back.

“Y-yes, I… I’ve gone over and analysed numerous documents and artefacts from the Taewang’s
reign, all of which I have detailed and cited with samples in the appendix of my dissertation.
Although most of them had already been dealt with in previous scholarly works, I was still
provided with invaluable insight into Dongreyong’s reign. The greatest contribution to my research,
however, came in the form of a document never before examined by academics. I found it, very
much by accident, while examining some old portraits archived at the St. Germain Library. I'm proud
to report that what I've discovered has revealed a side to the Goryeo king never before examined by
historians.”

His audience of professors seem captivated by his story. Namjoon continues,

“Taewang Dongreyong specialists have long discussed the immense impact the introduction of the
military tactician and diplomat, Lord Min Yoongi of Silla brought to the Goryeo court during his
rule, and there has been plenty of speculation that the nature of their relationship had been
unconventional if not more intimate than let on for quite some time. Even Ko Sunhye
Seonsaengnim’s biography of the monarch has alluded many times to a romance between the two,
however, this latest discovery has shed momentous light on the matter as well as introduced some
intriguing new variables.”

Namjoon steps up to the podium before him, flipping to the twelfth page of the appendix and
directing the panel to do so as well,
“It had been previously understood that Lord Min Yoongi was executed by royal poison after his
conviction of conspiracy against the throne in the second to last year of the king's reign. Dongreyong
was reported to be distraught and to never have recovered from the grief. If you will please look to
this painting that I had found tucked away, if you will believe it, in the frame of one of the archived
portraits of the king and his advisor, you will note that the university Art History specialists used
paint samples and Style Analytic Software to conclude it to be the work of Lord Min Yoongi. As
you can see, on the backside, there was a letter written and addressed to one Jung Hoseok,
professional name, Mi Geom. Before this, Mi Geom had only been vaguely alluded to in official
historical records and it hadn’t been until more recent research that he’d been revealed to be the head
assassin of the Royal Sword Order, an organization before believed to be a myth. This new letter
suggests that Jung Hoseok may also have been romantically involved with the king.”

Baek Gyosu-nim raises a hand,

“Yes, Professor?”

“What can you tell us about the age of this document?”

Namjoon feels his excitement thrumming beneath the surface of his skin. He’d been waiting for this
question,

“That, Professor, is the most interesting part. According to the ink testing and the Forensic
Handwriting specialist, this letter has been attributed to Lord Min Yoongi as well, but the most
interesting thing is that it dates to at least half a year after he was recorded to have been executed.”

Kwang seems very happy to ask this next line of questioning,

“Kim Namjoon? Would you please elaborate on Lord Min Yoongi’s conspiracy case?”

Namjoon takes a breath. Now, for the best part.

 epilogue
Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

The voices outside his chamber are hushed,

“Is his majesty asleep?”

“Yes, Mi Geom… he’s been… I’m worried about him.”

Dong Rim’s voice lowers even further and Jungkook has to strain to hear him.

“What’s wrong, Dong Rim sangseon[i]?”

“His majesty… ever since… you know, he has been behaving so oddly?”

Hoseok sounds hesitant,

“How so?”

“His majesty has just lost a very important official and friend, yet… he doesn’t seem to be mourning
him at all? Every morning he wakes up for Assembly, and every afternoon he goes to Court. He
even visits the Queen Mother and the young prince and princess often these days.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“It’s not… normal. What’s worse is I know it’s not that he just doesn’t care. He’s keeping it all in.
His majesty, he… he doesn’t sleep. Every morning I come in to wake him for assembly only to see
he’s been awake through the night. Even though he tries to appear to be alright, I’ve known him
since he was a baby. He wasn’t even like this when the late king passed, Or even his cousin, the
deceased Lord Seo. I’ve never seen him cover it up like this. I’m concerned for his health.”
Hoseok sighs,

“Everyone mourns in different ways, Dong Rim sangseon. I suppose the thing to do now is just to
support him. We’ve just lost a great asset to the kingdom. I’ve just lost a comrade and good friend.”

Jungkook rolls over on his bed, pulling his covers over his ears. He wants to hear no more.

He lies there, in the dark of the dawn and stares blankly at the shadows his lantern casts against the
wall on the other side of his bed. He’s not sure how much time passes before he hears Dong Rim’s
almost silent footsteps across the polished wood floor of his chambers. He doesn’t need to turn
around to know his lifelong friend and attendant is hesitating just outside his bed’s canopy.

Finally,

“Your Majesty? I’ve come to deliver your breakfast and prepare you for Morning Assembly.”

Jungkook breathes through his gritted teeth before turning around to face the attendant,

“Is Mi Geom still outside?”

Dong Rim looks startled, but he’s lived in the palace long enough not to let the expression sit too
long on his features. He nods his head and drops his eyes to the ground,

“Yes, your majesty, I apologize if we woke you.”

He waves his hand dismissively, moving to sit up.

“Please send in my breakfast, and let Mi Geom in.”

Hoseok steps in some moments later, holding the tray and sets it on his drawing table.
Jungkook looks at the spread, completely unappetized.

“Hoseok-ah.”

This is the thirtieth time in the past month he’s almost cried. He swallows hard, choking down the
lump in his throat. He can’t cry. He doesn’t deserve to cry. He’s let Yoongi down.

“Have you done what I asked?”

The assassin stares at him for a moment before nodding. He crouches at Jungkook’s feet to help him
put on his boots and chamber cloak. Jungkook is about to make his way to his dressing room when
Hoseok grasps at his wrist.

“Eat first.”

“I’m not-”

“Eat.”

Jungkook can’t summon the strength to argue, so he sits by the drawing table and picks up a spoon
and his rice bowl. He stares at it, making no move to do anything until Hoseok takes the utensil and
bowl from him and offers him a spoonful of rice.

They sit like that, Hoseok offering him spoonfuls of soup or rice or side dishes. Jungkook can’t
stomach most of it and insists on stopping after a few moments.

“Enough.”

“Your majesty-”

“Have you done as I asked, Mi Geom.”

Hoseok sighs, gaze dropping to the tray of food between them. He swirls the spoon he’s holding in
the bowl of soup distractedly,

“Yes… I delivered your message to Prince Taehyung myself.”

The assassin’s gaze is piercing and Jungkook can’t stand to look too long into his gaze. Suddenly, he
pulls him into his embrace, running a hand through the hair hanging loosely around his shoulders.

All that comes to Jungkook’s mind is that moment in the tent so many years ago when Hoseok lay in
a coma after his injury in Houyan. He was never able to tell Yoongi how much he meant to him.
Instead, he pushed him away… and now, he’s dead.

Outside, the sun at dusk washes the sky in the colours of persimmon and hibiscus. They bleed into
the cracks under the heavy doors of the armoury and through the rice paper windows. Jungkook sits
by the tactical table, tracing the map of Goryeo and its territories with his finger distractedly.
Taehyung’s attendant pushes open the doors to let the grand prince in, allowing the cool evening
breeze to flutter the curled ends of the map and the scattered reports and papers on the table not held
down by weights.

Taehyung eyes him warily as he bows. Everyone seems to be looking at him this way as of late.

“Your majesty,”

“Brother,”

He waves at him to sit down, and nods to his attending naesi[ii] to wait outside. Once the door is shut
and they’ve sat in silence for a moment, Jungkook speaks.

“Do you have anything to report?”

Taehyung nods and his expression is sombre. He looks like he’s about to deliver grave news.
“I’ve got word from my source at Seokjin hyung’s manor,” he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “It’s
not what you thought, Brother. It’s… much worse.”

Jungkook wonders silently what could possibly be worse than what he’s already gone through. His-
Min Yoongi is already dead.

“Seokjin hyung is… clean- mostly. He wasn’t the one involved in conspiracy.”

“Then who was-”

Impossible.

“Hye-eun noonim was the one keeping up correspondence with Hoon when he tried to raise a
rebellion. She’d been sending and receiving letters from Mohe, orchestrating the plot with the Baekje
lords. Remember when hyung first married the grand princess? I sent one of the girls from my own
manor to attend her as a wedding present. I never imagined I’d need her to spy… but, she’d saved a
few letters from Lord Seo that had been sent to Hye-eun noonim that she was meant to have burned
for her… she didn’t want to give them to me at first – out of loyalty – but when I told her what was
at stake…”

Taehyung pulls a bundle of folded papers bound together by a silk ribbon and places them in front of
him. Jungkook unties it with a trembling hand and unfolds one of the papers.

That’s…

definitely Hoon’s calligraphy and it’s definitely addressed to his older sister.

But…

His… sister?

“You must be mistaken.”

“I wish I was, sire.”

“What reason would she have to try to conspire against me? To usurp the throne? To- to try to kill
me?”

Taehyung takes a breath and swirls a brush that’s sitting in a pot of ink around distractedly,

“I’ve… I’ve no damned idea, your majesty. But this much I know: Seokjin hyung has been covering
up her crimes for the better part of the last five years. His intel on the Baekje lords plotting against
you? His source had been much closer than we’d thought.”

Jungkook can literally feel the entire world tilting on axis.

None of this makes any heavenly sense.

“Hyung was- hyung was trying to protect noonim? It was my sister all this time? Then what did Min
Yoongi have to do with any of it?”

“He… after Hoon’s… execution… he’d approached Jimin and told him to keep an eye on Seokjin
hyung. He’d been suspicious about something and had wanted to do some digging. I wasn’t even
supposed to know about it, he’d made Jimin swear not to alert you- I guess he was hoping it would
end up being nothing. I’d… distanced myself from the situation because hyung is my… cousin. I
didn’t really think anything of it, but then hyung out of nowhere came out against him in court and
had him arrested and then there was the whole assassination attempt-”

“It was nonsense and we all knew it, but… this was what they had been covering up?”

“I almost wish I hadn’t found out.”

Jungkook laughs incredulously. His sister?

“Noonim just… let an innocent man die and forced hyung to cover up for her? What have I ever
done to her to deserve her ire like this?”
To say he’s shaken would be a grossly irresponsible understatement.

Jungkook refuses to believe this. He’d rather believe his tactical advisor had tried to kill him.
Otherwise… he’d have killed him. Killed the man that he was in love with… because of his own
sister.

Jungkook couldn’t imagine this to happen even in his worst night terrors – and he’s been having
quite a few of those as of late. This is exactly what he’s been terrified of since his coronation. He’d
protected himself and his crown from virtually every enemy – except for the one that mattered:
family. Once again, he’d found himself betrayed by the people closest to him.

He rises from his seat, clumsily knocking his chair back to crash loudly on the stone floor.

“Your majesty?”

“I… need… to go.”

Taehyung definitely wants to say something against this, it’s clear on his face, but he chooses to hold
his peace.

Jungkook calls for Dong Rim to escort him to his chambers.

He hasn’t slept for five days. He and his older sister had never been particularly close as children…
she was born well before both Jimin and Taehyung and the palace regulations had had it so the royal
princesses were reared separately from the princes. They never had many chances to talk, but he’d
always admired and looked up to Hye-eun. She was their father’s only daughter and the Queen
Mother’s only other child.

It was precisely because of his relationship with his sister that he had insisted on Youngha and
Youngho being raised together despite the disapproval from the more senior palace attendants and
court ladies.
They may not have been particularly close but that was still no reason for his older sister to conspire
against him.

Jungkook just couldn’t understand.

“Papa?”

Youngho’s voice is hoarse and faint when it pulls the king out of his reverie.

The poor child has fallen ill, and as his father, Jungkook is dedicating everything in himself to nurse
his son back to health. He dips the damp cloth in his hand back into the bowl of cool water and
wrings it out before patting it along the crown prince’s fevered brow.

“Papa,”

He seems to be using the very last of his meagre strength to call out to his father, and Jungkook
hushes him,

“What is it, little Rice Cake?”

“Papa, you’ve been sad.”

Jungkook strains to smile,

“No, I haven’t Youngho-yah. Why would you say that?”

The boy shakes his head violently and the action makes him burst into a fit of coughs,

“Papa, you’ve been sad. You come and play with me more, but I can still tell. Why are you sad?”

Jungkook’s chest clenches.

“Thank you for worrying about me, Rice Cake, but Papa will be alright. You just focus on resting
and getting better.”

Youngho seems to relax back onto his bed, and watches silently as Jungkook blows on a bowl of
medicine to feed him,

“Is it about Uncle Yoon?”

Jungkook feels something inside him physically hurt at the mention of his name. He tries to steady
his hand, so he doesn’t spill any of Youngho’s medicine.

“We’ll talk about it later, Youngho-yah, now eat your medicine and rest.”

Youngho looks like he wants to press further,

“Your Majesty, Queen Mother Soondeok has arrived,”

Jungkook gets up briefly to bow to his mother who urges him to return to taking care of the prince.
She sits by his side on the bed and begins cooing and gently stroking his sweat damp hair until he
begins to drift to sleep.

When he’s sure the crown prince has fallen asleep, he puts down the bowl of medicine and adjusts
his blankets.

“My son,”

Jungkook doesn’t bother looking up from Youngho’s sleeping face, watching carefully for any signs
of discomfort,

“Yes, Mother?”
“You need to rest yourself. Youngho may need his father, but Goryeo needs its king. You won’t be
any good to either if you yourself fall ill.”

Jungkook shakes his head,

“I’m fine.”

The Queen Mother levels him with a steady glare, and Jungkook stares right back at her. They
remain like that, in a stubborn stand off until his mother sighs and relents, returning to stroke
Youngho’s hair and hum a lullaby Jungkook remembers from when he was a child.

He doesn’t know how to breach the subject of his sister with his mother. She’ll be heartbroken when
she finds out.

“I heard about Hye-eun, Jungkook.”

His head swings up to look at her,

“You…?”

“Taehyung came to me to tell me the news some time ago. I… feel as though I need to tell you
something. I had hoped I wouldn’t ever have to, but in light of recent developments, you need to
understand this.”

Jungkook isn’t sure if it’s the secrets he’s tired of or uncovering them. Either way, he’s not thrilled to
hear his mother speak like this. She continues,

“I know you probably feel very confused and betrayed by your sister, but I feel I must tell you this
before you make any decisions to punish her and your cousin,”

“Mother, if you’re going to try to ask me to spare her-”

“No, darling, I’m not, it’s just that… this has been weighing heavily on my conscience and now it
has become this huge mess. I owe it to you to tell you the whole truth.”

If only the people around him told him the whole truth from the beginning.

“When I married your father as his princess, I had a lot of trouble conceiving. There were numerous
pressures from the family elders that the princes start settling down and starting families and since
your father had been married first, before your uncle, most of those pressures fell on us. Your father
and uncle had been very, very close growing up, so he approached him about some young serving
girl at a gisaengbang[iii] that he’d met and fallen in love with. Because she was of common birth, he
couldn’t bring her into the palace, but she’d conceived a child for him, and he didn’t want the baby
to suffer in poverty when she could be raised in the palace. Your father and I agreed to adopt the
baby as our own and cover up for him.”

“No.”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide in disbelief that his parents would lie about something like that… that his
sister wasn’t really his sister at all.

“You can guess that the baby grew up to be Princess Hye-eun, your sister.”

“Mother-”

Youngho seems to stir between them, cutting Jungkook off. His mother raises a finger to her lips to
urge him to keep quiet.

“Let me finish, Jungkook-ah. Your grandfather became very ill, around the time you and Hoon had
turned nine years of age and it became time to name a crown prince… Your uncle was older and had
been first in line, but your father had ambitions, he had a vision. He was my husband, I couldn’t not
support him.”

His mother breaks eye contact with him to wipe the tears welling in her eyes,

“We went to your grandmother and told her of the woman your uncle had been hiding. She had been
furious. She urged your grandfather to name your father as the crown prince.”
She sighs,

“When your uncle found out, he was devastated. By then, he’d been coerced by the queen mother to
marry a noble’s daughter to give birth to Hoon and I imagine he felt like he’d let everyone down by
not getting the crown prince investiture. When he realized it was us who betrayed him… he…”

“He raised an army against the kingdom. You’d always told me Uncle had coveted Father’s throne,
had been jealous of him. Father killed him. He stole his birth-right from him!”

“Your father did what he knew was right for the kingdom. Your uncle may have been a good man,
but he gave way to passions and would have been a poor ruler. I do not regret what I did to help him
secure the royal line. But, covering up what we’d done was terrible, and both Hye-eun’s birth mother
and father had perished as a result. I raised Hye-eun like my own daughter, loved her like mine,
but… I suppose this is my punishment for the sins I have committed.”

“None of this explains why Yoongi would die to keep this secret.”

His mother takes his hand in his,

“Min Yoongi… is a good man. His father used to serve our court as the Silla emissary. He played a
role in taking Hoon out of Goryeo in exchange for your father’s assurance that Goryeo wouldn’t try
to annex Silla in his lifetime. He must have felt guilty to learn of his own father’s hand in covering
everything up.”

For the past month, Jungkook’s world had been falling apart, but finding this out was the last straw.

“Mother, I- I need you to leave.”

“Jungkook-”

“Please.”

His mother tries to reach out to him, but he turns away. She sighs, tears streaming down her elegantly
beautiful face, and rises to leave.
“I told you the truth, Jungkook-ah, because I didn’t want you to blame yourself. Even if you blame
me, please don’t blame yourself.”

“A man died, mother. I lost my cousin. And now my sister.”

Jungkook shot up from his bed, heart pounding and hands shaking. He clambered over to his
drawing table to pour himself a cup of wine and then another. When he realized he was still shaking,
he downed the entire carafe.

“Dong Rim-ah!”

His attendant rushed into his chamber looking alarmed,

“Is everything alright, your majesty?”

Things haven’t been alright for a very long time.

“Please, bring Mi Geom to me.”

He stares at him in hesitation,

“Dong Rim-ah, now!”

“At once, sire.” and then he’s gone.

The king slumps back in a chair, exhausted. It’s been the same nightmare for weeks now.
It begins differently every time, but it always ends the same.

(“You killed me Jeon Jungkook. You call yourself a king? You’re pathetic!”)

Jungkook couldn’t even be with him in his last moments. He really is a poor excuse for a king.

“Your majesty,”

Hoseok looks like he hasn’t been sleeping all that well either.

“Hoseok-ah,”

He tries to rise from his seat to walk to him, but he sways from all the wine he’s drunk. The assassin
is by his side in only a moment,

“Please, be careful, my king.”

Jungkook shakes his head, the action making him slightly dizzy,

“No, no, not king. Don’t… call me that.”

Hoseok tucks him into his embrace,

“Jungkook-ah, hyung is here. I’m here,”

He hasn’t shed a single tear since all this trouble’s begun, he never allowed himself to. Crying would
mean he’d had a right to mourn Yoongi. He had no right, he let him down. Perhaps it’s the wine, or
maybe it’s just the way his best friend since childhood is holding him so tightly, but suddenly,

“I can’t do it anymore, Hoseok-ah.”

Hoseok slips his fingers under his chin and raises his face to get a good look at him. His thumb rubs
away at a stray teardrop. The tenderness of the action reminds him of the man he poisoned a year
ago. Something in him breaks and he crumbles to the ground.

Hoseok is there to hold him. Jungkook sobs harder at the thought that Yoongi didn’t have Jungkook
there with him when he needed him to be. He turned his back on him.

“Do you know what he asked me? That final night?”

Jungkook merely shakes his head, not trusting his voice.

“He asked me to take care of you. Look at you, I’m doing a damned awful job of it. You did what
you could, Jungkook. You did what you could for him as his king,”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“It was more than enough for him. Do you think he’d be happy to see you like this? Being miserable
and barely able to function?”

No.

“Run away from me, Hoseok-ah. I only hurt those around me.”

Hoseok only holds him tighter,

“I’ve known you since before you could hold a sword on your own. There’s nothing you could do to
hurt me, Jeon Jungkook.”

Jungkook thinks that he does resent his father, after all. He may have prepared him for battle, for
intrigue and politics, but he never prepared him for the kind of isolation and weakness he would feel
as king.

He can’t stop thinking about how Yoongi came to his chambers those months ago.

He tried to tell me, he thinks bitterly.

(“You know, perhaps the king is so weak not because no one around him can see past his crown, but
because he can’t either”)

He was so blind, unable to see past his crown and the insecurities it brought him. Not once in his
entire relationship with Min Yoongi was he able to tell him to his face how much he loved him.

It’s with this frustration in mind that he enters court today. He sits before the officials, who murmur
about themselves nervously until he takes his seat at his throne.

His hand travels to the dragon carved into the armrest to his right. The gilding is cold and detached
against his skin. He stares at the now empty spaces beside his throne. After a few beats of silence, he
nods to Dong Rim.

“Hear His Majesty’s Royal Command!”

All the officials bow to receive his order.

“Lord Kim Seokjin of Goryeo and his wife the Lady Kim, and Grand Princess Hye-eun have been
convicted of conspiring to overthrow His Majesty, the king.”

There are hushed exclamations throughout the hall. Jungkook knows what they’re all thinking. That
he’s a pitiful figure to be betrayed by his own sister like this, and to have lost his most gifted and
brilliant official in the process.

“Grand Princess Hye-eun colluded with their traitor cousin, Seo Hoon to usurp the thrown and rebel
from the crown. Lord Kim Seokjin covered up his wife’s crimes. She is stripped of her titles and
rank, will be erased from the family register and is banished from Goryeo and all her territories.”
There is a tense silence, and Dong Rim continues,

“Kim Seokjin chose his wife over his duty to the king and the people. He is stripped of his rank and
titles and banished along with Jeon Hye-eun from the kingdom. As the Kim Clan is innocent in all
this, the family will not be blamed for the lord’s actions. Grand Prince Taehyung will replace him as
Right Minister of the Court. Accept His Majesty’s Royal Command!”

He sighs as the officials bow again and recite their refrain,

“Your Majesty is wise and just! We accept your command!”

Jungkook scoffs. Wise and Just. What a farce.

No justice was served on this day.

He calls court assembly early, already exhausted by the day’s events. He’d sent Jimin to their
cousin’s manor to arrest him and their sister for treason. The punishment should have been death, but
Jungkook knew that they deserved to be shown mercy.

All the same, it has been nothing if not difficult for him. Now that he’s wheedled out this conspiracy
and set everything right, he supposes he should feel triumph, that he should feel relieved.

Jungkook can’t feel anything but grief and sorrow.

Once the hall has been cleared of officials and attendants, it’s only him and Dong Rim. He instructs
the naesi to bring him wine and an ink pot and brush.

His attendant looks at him worriedly but bows and sets on his way. When he’s alone, he rises from
the throne and walks around the hall. He’s held hundreds of assemblies in this building. He’s built a
vast kingdom that stretches from coast to coast in this very building. He’s condemned one of the
loves of his life to death in this hall.
Jungkook is tired.

When he looks at the throne, it doesn’t bring him the pride and warmth that it used to. Now, the
gilded dragons carved into it to symbolize the Goryeo Kings’ magnificence and power look like
they’re taunting him.

A wave of anger and frustration overtakes him, and he unsheathes his sword and swipes at the right
armrest. The dragon façade drops off, falling to the ground. He can’t stand looking at it any longer.

“Your majesty!”

The tray Dong Rim is carrying clatters to the ground, spilling wine everywhere.

Jungkook doesn’t bother answering, just walks past him and makes his way for his chambers.

“Grand Prince Jimin has arrived, sire.”

“Send him in.”

Jungkook is just sealing the edict he’s finished writing. He folds the paper and puts it in a royal
sleeve. Jimin steps into his study looking apprehensive,

“You asked for me, sire?”

Jungkook nods, sliding the envelope forward on his writing desk, beckoning for Jimin to come
forward and take it. As he unfolds the paper and begins to read, the king rises from his seat and
strolls around his study, picking up the slightly clumsy needlework piece Youngha gifted him when
she first learned how to sew.

“You what? You’re abdicating?” He laughs incredulously, “You can’t be serious, your majesty.”
He’s only all too serious.

“I’m tired, Jimin. I’m exhausted.”

“You can’t just leave; the kingdom needs you!”

Jungkook smiles morosely,

“The kingdom hasn’t needed me for years, and you know that, General.”

Jimin stares at him wide eyed and taken aback,

“I’m naming you as Youngho’s regent until he becomes of age to take the throne for himself. I’m
trusting the crown prince and princess to you, Brother.”

“You’re… no, no.”

Jungkook has already made up his mind.

“Please, Jimin.”

“But, I don’t want to rule.”

“That’s exactly why you’re perfect for this, Hyungnim. You are just, and fair, and Youngho will be
a great king under your tutelage.”

“He’d be a better a king under yours, my king.”

“I’ve… lost my zeal, my passion. I need to leave before I compromise the crown. The people need
someone strong and resolute like you, Youngho and Youngha need someone like you.”

Jimin shakes his head furiously,

“They need their father.”

“I’ll still see them. But I- I can’t do this anymore, Hyungnim.”

The despair is clear in his voice. Jimin’s gaze softens and he places a warm hand on his shoulder,

“It’s my fault for not helping you shoulder your burdens better.”

“No, you did more than enough.”

They stare at each other in sombre silence for a while. The early summer breeze whistles through the
opened windows. After some time, Jimin finally nods.

“If this is what you truly think is right.”

Jungkook pulls his brother into an embrace that he returns with the same energy.

The salt spray of the sea water is refreshing on Jungkook’s skin. As far as his eyes can see, there is
an endless expanse of sky and sea. The royal dhow rocks back and forth. Spring Palace Island’s
beach is in the distance. He hasn’t been back here for years.

For the first time since his coronation,

Jungkook is free.
As the dhow pulls into shore, he can see a figure approaching. It’s a man, and his gait seems
somehow familiar. He grabs at Hoseok’s robe in panic, his blood rushing in his ears,

“I’ve finally gone mad.”

Hoseok chuckles,

“No, sire, that’s who you think it is.”

It’s a cruel joke to play,

“Don’t tease me, Jung Hoseok."

They step onto the beach, the sand soft and warm as it easily gives way beneath their feet. The figure
draws nearer. His face…

It’s him. Jungkook is staring down a ghost.

“Your majesty. Or should I say, your highness?”

“You’re… alive?”

Yoongi smiles at him sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Believe me, I’m as shocked as you are, in all honesty.”

He rounds on Hoseok,

“You knew? And you let me grieve him? You didn’t tell me?”
Hoseok has trained as the top assassin in all the Three Kingdoms. He dodges the blow Jungkook has
sent his way easily,

“Calm down, let me explain-”

Yoongi cries out in pain, clutching his jaw where Jungkook’s fist connected with his face,

“What are you hitting me for?”

“You lied to me, you- you died- you left me!”

“I was trying to protect you!”

“You’re a fool, Min Yoongi!”

He tries to punch him again, but Yoongi catches his fist in his hand and smiles as he uses his
loosened balance to tug the king forward,

“I’ve missed you, Jeon Jungkook.”

He decidedly doesn’t colour at the close proximity to Min Yoongi, nor does he think how it’s been
years since he’s kissed his lips.

He takes a step away to clear away the fog that being too close to him casts over his mind, and turns
to Hoseok, stabbing an accusing finger against his chest,

“How”

“I snuck the antidote into the cell and slipped it into the cup before he drank from it. Instead of it
killing him, it plunged him in a deep sleep. Wonhyung and I secretly had Yoongi moved to Spring
Palace to recover.”
 “Wonhyung?”

“I told you we were friends. Anyhow, Yoongi had been asleep for almost six months, and he was
angry with me too when he finally came to. Had fancied himself all noble for dying for you,”
Hoseok scoffed, “As if I’d let him one up me like that.”

Jungkook feels his legs give out. He really cannot believe Jung Hoseok.

“Careful sire.”

He can feel the weight of the albatross round his neck lifted. Tears stream freely down his eyes and
he buries his face in Yoongi’s neck, breathing in his scent deeply and grasping his robes tightly to be
sure that he’s really there- that he’s not dreaming.

“I’m here, Jungkook-ah. I’m here.”

Hoseok clears his throat amusedly,

“Let’s make our way for the palace, your highness. We can talk more there- Ow!”

Yoongi chuckles as he takes Jungkook’s hand in the one he’d just used to smack the back of
Hoseok’s head,

“I specifically told you in my letter not to let him abdicate! Just what are you good for other than
killing?”

Jungkook’s heart pounds in his chest, but somehow, he thinks,

he’s alright.

Chapter End Notes

[i] Honorific for the head eunuch attendant of the king

[ii] Palace eunuch

[iii] Where Gisaengs, or Korean courtesans stay and entertain clients. Similar to
Japanese Geisha houses.
[Kim, 2018, Appendix p.12]
 My dearest friend,

I’ve been such a terrible fool. I thought I could protect him. I- I let Seokjin’s accusation against my
father shake my convictions and sense of justice and for that, I deserved to die. I don’t know whether
to curse you or thank you for saving my life and giving me a second chance. I fear I can never see
him again, his kingdom- his people need him, and it would be selfish of me to want to be back in his
life. I ask that you take care of him, Jung Hoseok, uphold my dying wish. I trust that you love him as
much as I do, and you will do this for me. Please, I urge you to discourage him from trying to find
out the truth- it will destroy him.

Your humble servant and friend,

Min Yoongi

End Notes

Thank you so much for coming along on this adventure! I want to say a special thank you to
everyone that has shown support for this story, while I struggled to write it. I'm a little
awkward so I don't really respond to comments, but I've really seriously appreciated all of
your sweet comments and encouragements!

talk to me on twitter @miniminikoot

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