The Beginning

“Lady!” The woman rushed over to Jungkook’s side, clasping his hands gently. Jungkook stared in horror at the face reflected back in the mirror, and stretched out to touch it, to make sure it was real. The hair around him felt horribly real, and the hanbok was stifling around him. This felt so wrong.

“What did you call me?” Jungkook turned to look at the woman, middle-aged and slightly on the plump side. “Who am I?” Jungkook assessed her through judgmental eyes, waiting for her reply. The woman looked absolutely horrified.

“Sanggung!” The woman cried out, hands squeezing Jungkook’s tightly, Jungkook trying to pull back. “Lady Jiyeon is sick! She does not remember who she is!”

Jungkook cringed. The name Jiyeon was so soft, so girlish, it didn’t suit him at all. He was a goddamn man, for goodness’s sake. Jungkook took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. This was no time to panic. If he wanted to find his way back, then he’d have to be calm.

Jungkook twitched, and he suddenly reached up, feeling if his earring was there. There was a small circle on his earlobe, and Jungkook pulled it out gently, inspecting it. Indeed, it was his own earring, the familiar branding and insignia of the maker carved into it. The woman was still yelling for help, completely ignoring Jungkook and the thoughtful smile he had on.

“Lady!” A younger woman rushed in, this one more a girl than a woman, Jungkook noticed. The girl ran up to him, pressing her hands to his shoulders and pressing. Jungkook winced a little internally when he realized he couldn’t fight his way out in this body, it was much too fragile.

“Lady, do you remember me?” Jungkook met the girl’s eyes, shaking his head. The feeling of something weighing down his head felt strange, but he ignored it, a hand subconsciously reaching out to the long, straight hair.

“It seems she has forgotten everything,” The girl stood straight, shaking her head sadly at the woman. “Perhaps we need to refresh her memory.”

“Maybe sanggung should take her around the gardens, perhaps it will help calm her,” The older woman obviously hadn’t forgotten his screaming just now. Jungkook lowered his head, deciding to listen and observe for the time being. He had no idea where he was, and he had to find the timeline so he could choose how to act.

“Yes, perhaps that will help,” So this girl, looking young and untested, was the sanggung, or matron, of the household. Jungkook stored the piece of information away in his head and accepted the arm the girl offered, standing up beside her.

Together, they strolled out of the room, Jungkook noting the wooden floor and walls, along with the rice paper paintings, the floor cool on his bare feet. Jungkook’s body felt unusually light, and he found his body tiring much faster than usual, his legs shorter and chest heavier. Being a girl was no fun at all.

The house was elegant, tastefully furnished and decorated with fresh flowers placed in vases at intervals, pools of clear water with fishes in open-air pavilions, patios that overlooked a scenic city below, and small doorways that led out to a garden outside. The girl led him outside to the gardens, where Jungkook took in the blooming blossoms, and the sweet-smelling roses that took up most of the place.

“Jiyeon-ah,” The girl called, pulling on Jungkook’s hand, Jungkook trying to smooth down his hair flying in the wind. A long, thin pin barely kept it in place. “Do you truly not remember anything?”

“I do not,” Jungkook tried mimicking their accent, trying to conceal his own Busan accent. The voice that came out from his throat was surprisingly melodic, much like his own singing voice. He wondered how good this pair of lungs were, and how high he could go when he was singing. The girl smiled sadly at him, looking away.

“Do you remember your own name?” Jungkook shook his head. “Your name is Jeon Jiyeon, firstborn daughter of Lord Jeonghan and Lady Minyu. You are a true bone, and you have the title of ‘Black Rose’, given to you by your parents.”

Jeon. Jungkook contemplated this, the fact that this girl shared his surname. Was she an ancestor of his? “What era is this?”

The girl looked surprised. “This is the Silla dynasty, currently under the rule of King Silseong and Queen Minyoung.”

Bone rank, he supposed. The Silla dynasty enforced a caste system, and Jungkook was grateful that he wasn’t a lower rank. True bones were luckier than most, and it seemed his ‘family’ was a wealthy one. “Black Rose?”

“It is your official title,” The girl answered, sighing almost inaudibly. “You are the Black Rose, the pride and joy of the Jeon family.”

"Why was this title given to me?" Jungkook narrowed his eyes, slipping his earring onto his ring finger to disguise its true form. A strange emotion flashed in the girl's eyes, but it was gone too fast, before Jungkook could even recognize it. She closed her eyes, and shook her head, her bound hair flying in the wind. One thing Jungkook noticed that she wasn't wearing a typical hanbok, but the cut was slimmer, the skirts narrower and her bodice longer than his own dress. Jungkook wondered if that was a sanggung's uniform or that she just liked this style.

“Who are you?” Jungkook tilted his head, flipping his hair like he’d seen the girls in school do. "What is your name?"

The girl seemed to stand taller, prouder. "I am Park Shinhwa, sanggung of the Jeon household."

Jungkook considered this. Shinhwa had seemed to be close to his agenda before he turned into this, and she seemed hurt, if not angry, that he had changed so drastically. "Tell me about my home."

Shinhwa hesitated. "Do you really not remember anything, Lady?"

Jungkook winced. He really had to get used to this title. "Yes."

"Fine," Shinhwa sighed. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Jungkook twisted his ring nervously, as he and Shinhwa strolled side by side in the gardens, butterfiles fluttering around them in bright colors. Shinhwa looked intense, her espressive eyes betraying all the emotions she hid under a mask of coldness. Jungkook listened to her talk, telling him everything about his home and his family.

"You are the firstborn, but you had a younger sister, who passed away last year due to sickness," Jungkook nodded.  "Your mother is the Queen's foster sister, which means that sometimes the princes will come to visit on behalf of their mother. You didn't like most of them, but you used to show particular interest to Prince Namjoon."

"Who are the princes?" Jungkook reached up to tuck a loose tendril of hair behind his ear, still trying to get used to the unfamiliar weight of his head. His chest was unbelievably hot, and he wondered how girls back home survived with cloth binding them tightly. He stared enviously at Shinhwa's hanbok, the clothing obviously lighter than his and easier to move about in. 

"There are five of them," Jungkook recalled his history lessons, trying to remember the names of the princes. Only one of them survived the fight for the throne, but he couldn't exactly remember who. "The Crown Prince is Kim Namjoon, the second is Kim Seokjin, the third is Kim Taehyung, the fourth is Kim Yugyeom, and the fifth is Kim Mingyu. The five of them hold important p