...

“Love's folly in others seemeth such no less

To foolish lovers, as if one should sneer,

Passing, to see his mirrored face appear;

And in such things to blame is to confess.

But when love's passionate wrongs cry for redress

Or true love's tragic wisdom earns a tear,

Young noble hearts in happier fate draw near

And prove by grief their right to happiness.

O Love, in thee, as in one faith, unite

The chiefly blest with the supremely cursed,

And pity proves their high community;

One brotherhood of human deity.

Who knows then but the last may yet be first,

So thou but lead me, Love, with thy dear light?”

...

- John Barglas, XXV. "Love's folly in others seemeth such no less"

 

The harsh glint of the morning sunlight penetrates through the gilded windows as lush velvet curtains slid harshly against the bronze bars, and the warmth encompassed the austerely furnished bedroom.

 

Jungkook shifted in the linen cloth tangled around his limbs, and turned his head away from the blatant illumination towards the cream coloured wall with a squinching expression all over his face.

 

A pounding, throbbing sensation assailed all over his cranium, as he was blinded by the hot flashes of changing colours, and dripping sweat drenched through his chiffon undergarments as he panted heavily.

 

    “Jungkook-ah, you have to wake up now. You have slept all morning and now it is time to get up now. You cannot sleep through the rest of the day when we have many things to discuss and do, yet not enough time. ” Firm yet assuaging, alleviating motions press against his collarbones as he is shaken back to consciousness.

 

Slowly blinking his eyes open, the bleary outline of an ambiguous, incomprehensible silhouette eventually forms a clear, concrete view of Lord Jung Yunho, his stepfather, waking him up with an adverse, hesitant grin on his picturesque features.

 

   “Lord Father, I apologize-” The younger abruptly sits up in alarm, the linen material clinging around him loosening as they pool surrounding his lower body.

 

With an apologetic pat on his upper back, the Warden of the Seven Kingdoms shakes his head deftly, yet as his smile disappears from his face- Jungkook notices the difference in the aura and how he is carrying himself. A severe, unwieldy heft hovers over him as his step father’s bloodshot eyes, dry skin and the irritated, rosy patch on the tip of his nose meant something was wrong. Dreadfully, notoriously awry.

 

If only he noticed he was wearing a colour unlike his usual - obsidian, midnight black. The royal mourning colour.

 

   “Worry not, my son. The younger Lord Kim and Lord Park had spared no detail in construing the truths of what occurred last night.” Disenchantment and disappointment drips heavily in Yunho’s croaked voice as he sighs tiredly, rubbing his swollen, bloodshot eyes with calloused, scarred fingers.

 

A flood of guilt and embarrassment flood through Jungkook, and the revolting, bitter taste of betraying the trust of the only man who had given him a second chance in life when no one else did. 

 

     The pendulum swing of the iron barred door to the manor’s corridors creak open in a dawdling, shrill echo. In the corner of his eye, he glimpses Taehyung and Jimin, appropriately attired in sheer black velvet, with embroidered etched on their caps, and their military titles and achievements adorned neatly on their silk kerchiefs. The faint stripes on their collars, and their draped capes however- clearly indicated they came from opposite sides.

 

Lord Park Jimin, bedecked in scarlet red like the glimmering pride of the Hanyang clan in his formal mourning gear, while Lord Kim Taehyung, resembled the calm, azure waters of the Haeyang clan with his family crest embedded in his dark velvet sleeve.

 

     However, these could not tear the boys apart. Whatever differences they had, they still managed to find the hidden crevices in which they had in common, in which their compassionate, outgoing personalities had melted into one another perfectly.  In fact, it brought them even closer together.

 

  As he fervently gulps to himself in trepidation, knowing the consequences of what they had done the previous night, what more where they were and who they associated themselves with, the glimmer in Taehyung’s eyes gave him a gander of assurance. Leave it to Taehyung to twist a situation completely to his favour.

 

    “Lord Jung, I completely take it upon myself that it had been my doing to bring Lord Park and younger Lord Jung with me to the party, although it was always done with the purest intentions-” Lord Taehyung clears his throat as he clutches his fist covering his mouth, and speaking solemnly as his eyes wander around the room and his feet start frantically tapping against the oak wood floors.

 

With a tired sigh, The elder Lord Jung glanced around the young boys that he had taken so intimately under his wing, and the consequences of leaving them unattended for the shortest amount of time in his memory.

 

As the light shines against his behind, a shadow forms in Yunho’s figure as he faces against the light, and it suddenly occurs to Jungkook how many years he has suddenly aged now that he carefully looks at his step-father from this perspective.

 

  “I was completely concerned about the reckless risks the three of you have taken under Haeyang territory, especially now that the relations between both parties are on thin ice at the moment. Even so, I am grateful to the God of the Seven for letting all of you escape your trespassing without the dire consequences that would have ended in violence and political intervention-”

 

Lord Yunho was not a man who was easily angered, or carried away by the impulses of his temper, yet even with the calmest of his temperament at work- traces of his frustration and grievance seeped through the slight trembling of his conventionally indifferent tone.

 

  “Lord Father, we only had good intentions to have a good time across party lines-”

 

  “To let Lord Park, our faction heir, move on from a possible lover who had not felt the same, by bringing yourselves to the main headquarters of our opposite faction? I am sure all of you are more intelligent and capable of what you have done-”

 

The three young men wait in silence, the poignant anticipation in the atmosphere all uncertain and unpredictable, yet once the Lord stood up and spoke up, their worries were pacified.

 

  “I have spoken with my network of officials and none about your presence at the Haeyang Official Banquet is reported as of now. As long as we speak no longer of this and prevent any interactions with their faction, especially as long as the tensions between our two sides are still in wavering condition- I will not be forced to discipline all of you. Understood?”

 

“Yes, Lord Jung.”

 

“It is an order, My Lord.”

 

 With a swift, grim nod of obeisance, Jimin and Taehyung instantaneously turn away from Jungkook’s room as they make their way downstairs where the faction’s set of carriages are prepared for them.

 

      Believe it or not, the younger notices the Hanyang heir tuck a scribbled note of parchment quickly folded between his pleated, silk pockets, but not without an aphrodisiac, enamoured countenance on his profile.

 

  After a few seconds of pondering absently towards the window, Lord Jung stares at him directly in his eyes in silent, unreadable expectation.

 

  “You have always been such a responsible, duty-bound boy from the beginning that I had always wondered whether you had truly lived and grown as a teenage boy, did you know that? Under my watch, you have never had even a sip of alcohol, and the next time I find you - you are intoxicated beyond healthy capacities?” Yunho pensively asks his stepson, who is frozen in disorientation on how to react.

 

  “I had disappointed you, Father, when you only wanted me to do my duty.” Jungkook could not find the strength to look his stepfather in the eye, as heat built up in his face as he felt that the Lord was still burning his attention towards him.

 

The Lord gets up and makes his way towards the door, the hardened sole of his shoes tapping melodically against the hardwood floor wordlessly.

 

     However, before he leaves and moves away from his ward’s bedroom, he turns around with his hands gripped on the door, facing towards him as he reminds him a few words he never wished he had to say. Yet he had to. He had no choice.

 

  “You have never disappointed me, Jungkook. I have been nothing but proud of you. It would make me even prouder if you can prepare and get dressed properly as my son at the Faction General Lord Bae Woohyun’s funeral. It would only be fitting for us to pay our respects together. As father and son. As a proper family, for once.”

 

    “Of course, father. I would never dare to disappoint you in my lifetime. I can guarantee you that.”

 

The door shuts and Jungkook relishes the feeling of being called ‘son’ for once in his life. A blossoming grin widens on his softened features, as his fingers comb through his chestnut locks repeatedly in disbelief.

 

It seemed like a dream for him, as it played over and over in his head like he was stuck in a loop that never ended. Yet, like all good, picturesque dreams, they always seemed too good to be true. Even if he could never truly experience that again.

 

…

 

 

    She wishes she felt something at least, but truthfully - she felt nothing. Joohyun hovers over her late husband’s deceased body, embalmed and consecrated to resemble his glorified status in life, even in death, but she can’t help but feel relieved now that she’s lost him to death itself.

 

They painted him and portrayed him as a military genius, a saviour, and a hero who brought nothing but glory, dignity, and triumph to his house, but how could she believe that if she had known her husband to be a different man? When who they believe he is resembles nothing of how she knew him and how he treated her?

 

How can she put up with the untruth and deceit they are presenting to her, and continue with the front of being the perfect, loving wife to a husband who never was?

 

    Her raven hair pinned up into an intricate, braided updo, that was fastened by a jaded butterfly hairpin, glistening in the candlelight as the pleated, obsidian taffeta veil cascaded from the crown of her head to the marble ground under her feet.

 

Breathing deeply, Joohyun brushes her immaculate, emerald bedecked fingers against the embroidered, dark silk material of her mourning gown, weaving the pattern of her husband’s family house as it is ingrained in her mind over and over again that even after he is gone - she is still tied to the family for the remainder of her life.

 

Letters and personal visits filled with sorrow, remorse and anguish have flooded her over the last two moons, over how sorry or apologetic they are over the hopeless situation she is forced to face the consequences of, but they forget she is not as despondent and ill-fated as they had thought or even wished she was.

 

    The departed general had known mistress all across the Seven Kingdoms and bastards from sea to sea, but none of them had been formally acknowledged in his final will. Automatically, according to the laws of the land, as his next of kin, all of his estates, manours, hidden vaults and finances all belonged to her now.

 

The corners of her lips almost broke into a smile thinking that she is now the wealthiest, most prosperous lady in her own right in Westeros over centuries. When years and years ago, not too far away, she had struggled to feed herself, clothe herself or even find any scraps in the streets to feed her emancipated, malnourished ill mother.

 

Yet what could all of the abundance, prosperity and commodities bestowed upon her mean to her when they belonged and originated from such a source of cruelty and monstrosity? When the life she had tied herself to had brought her nothing but misery and suffering while he was alive, but because she was able to reap the rewards, they meant nothing to her now.

 

Of course, except for the child she had to take care of now that he was gone. A child, the heir to the colossal, vast empire her husband had left behind, was put fully under her responsibility to raise on her own. The child of hers would be so loved, so respected, so valued and so cherished that they would never know the atrocity their father had inflicted on her.  

 

Brushing her fingers along the swell of her abdomen, she feels the steady, soft pulses from her child’s heart beating, even if it is still so faint and hushed, but she can hear it and feel the connection with her unborn child. 

 

Three consistent, staccatoed knocks against the tawny oak doors reiterated across the drawl, unpainted graphite walls. She finds herself straightening and tightening up as she returns to her position of authority and etiquette.

 

    “Lady Bae, are you ready to greet your guests? They are looking forward to your company, and offering their condolences. Or would you ask for them to wait for you, My Lady? I am sure they understand what you are facing is difficult and not easy to comprehend- ”

 

Lord Jung Hoseok meekly greets her from the other side of the door, his calm, monotone voice echoing through the cold, barren corridors, and she is relieved to find some familiar relief among the many changes in her life.

 

    “Yes, Lord Jung. I will follow soon.” She affirms, nodding to herself before her trembling, shuddering palms grasp the algid iron bar handles, and strenuously force the gates open.

 

In his black velvet cap accentuated by a singular merlot feather and austere midnight garments that only made the deep apricot hue of his locks stand out more than usual, the warden paralleled nothing of his brightly coloured, energetic self. The deep sallows of his eyes, the rosiness of the tip of his nose, and his weary, enervated expression took a toll on his appearance.

 

    “They are looking forward to intimately consoling and give solace to you, My Lady. In any time you wish to leave from the private comforts of your mourning to speak to them and accept their well wishes, I will never leave your side to be your support, My Lady.” Lord Jung affirmed decrepitly, sniffling latently as he squares his jaw in determination, and a pang of maternal fondness burgeons in Joohyun’s conscience.

 

She is only a few years older than he, but her exalted status as the Lord Bae’s Wife and the Clan’s highest ranking military officer’s widow, it is almost like she is looking at her own son who respects her so much like she had raised him herself. The bond fastened and anchored on her as the General’s widow is so genuine, so pure and so unadulterated that it would break her heart to doubt his intentions.

 

"Thank you, Lord Jung. I really mean it. Thank you." 

 

Taking nimble, silent footsteps towards him, he outstretches his forearm for her to hold on and grasp on as she ceremoniously strides out from her formal period of mourning for a brief moment in public society to receive the respects of those who have known her husband in her lifetime and have ties with the family she had married into.

 

     Clutching her fingers securely around his forearm, she nods momentarily before she follows him leading her past the dimly lighted corridors, and pass the blazing iron arches glowing as the light from the melting candles hits the metal.

 

They glide down the cascading staircase, in which its former golden glory shining and shimmering in its polished brass is concealed by an ink coloured silk cloth in memory of its late master. Heads turn as the crier proclaims the arrival of the Dowager Lady Bae, and all men and women alike in the room, no matter status, kneels on their knees with bowed hands and sullen faces towards her.

 

         A guileless, youthful young lady with tender, virtuous features crowned with her bright apricot locks tucked in a bun pinned up with a fresh lily that held up her dark translucent veil meekly approached her and grasped the lady’s fingers eagerly yet gently with her soft, untainted hands.

 

Tears form in her eyes like raindrops, and her piercing, charismatic lilac eyes peering directly at Joohyun abruptly reminds her of her resemblance to her older brother Hoseok, who stood proudly and defensively by her side.

 

“Dowager Lady Bae, our family respectfully sends our condolences to the death of General Lord Bae. We are at your utmost service for the entirety of our lives and yours, My Lady.” Lady Jeon Nayeon curtsies lowly by her feet, the midnight organza material pooling against the cold, marble ground.

 

She is two years behind her older brother, with the same sunshine pinned in her hair as her vivid apricot locks perfectly match her enthusiastic, outgoing nature. At seventeen years of age, Nayeon’s flighty, sanguine outlook in life has made her the talk of the town, never too far away from the murmurs and whispers of common folk and aristocrats alike.

 

     Although mistakenly assumed as irrational or feeble minded due to her being books and curricula away from the education of the noble women of her time, her willingness to serve, please and dedicate herself to her duty is second to none. The grape vines spread around that no one makes her truly smile as joyful and elated as Lord Lee Taemin does, yet both are mum and reticent no matter who inquires or question in curiosity.

 

    “Lady Bae, your family has been nothing but accommodating and sympathetic to our clan’s every whim, whether it be in need or in celebration, and I am eternally grateful for everything.” Joohyun tangles her gloved fingers firmly around the younger’s, and a sweet, innocent smile of admiration slips through her peach coloured lips, amidst the solemnity around them.

 

Waves of prayers, wishes and condolences inundate Lady Bae for the lengthwise meanwhile that felt like an eternity to Joohyun as the mellowness, loud weeping and glum faces dragged on and on at the loss of their former military leader.

 

    The chime of the golden bell and the wispy, dusky smoke of frankincense fills the room as the Grand Maester steps forward to lead those present in the room for a brief, yet ceremonial rite in laying the late Lord Bae to rest peacefully so he can move on to the next stage in life without turmoil or chaos.

 

Bowing her head with her ringed fingers clutching the cold alabaster flooring, she feels the sharp touch of the ground against her forehead intensely as the liturgy occurs, and drags her crouched body upwards as the ordinance ceases.

 

     Useless, empty chatter continues to monotonously simmer through the castle as she tirelessly saunters from all those present in the room wishing she their comforts and invocations in vain attempts of a sense of conscience for patronage and benefaction that will greatly improve their prominence in society.

 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

 

Persistent, steady thumps persistently thud against the securely locked iron doors sealed with a thick bar of brass and studded with its sable charcoal framework and hinges that convulse against the uncontrollable, overwhelming force from the opposite side.

 

    “Who dares interrupt the solemnities of the Late General Lord Bae?” The Hanyang uniformed soldier in bright crimson demands gravelly, his fist dauntingly grips around his wooden spear turning white on his skin.

 

Joohyun gulps tensely, feeling the chill down her spine and the beads of sweat forming in the back of her neck as her heart pulses vigorously against her ribcage.

 

A brief, hallowing moment in pure silence, not a prayer, nor single breath heard other than the nimble fingers sliding their way to reach for their surreptitiously latent weapons.

 

    “It is Lord Jung and his companions who requests permission to pay respect to his colleagues-”

 

The gates are immediately opened and the iron bar is thrown aside at the mention of the late General’s superior, the metal echoing audibly against the marble ground.

 

Lord Jung Yunho, in his entire military regalia complete with his plethora of medals and honours rarely seen, marches in with the young men trailing behind him as his grace and refinements.

 

His caramel hair tucked underneath his felted two-cornered hat, bare, sans a ruby brooch pinned in the centre, hid the exhausted, gaunt expression of his face devastated from bereavement and aching.

    

    “Lord Jung Yunho, I had worried that you would not make it in time, but how foolish of me to think of you unlike your character. My Lord Husband would be assured in peace that his commander will always be by his side.” Lady Joohyun ambles unhurriedly as every person has their eye on her every move as she greets the Warden of the Kingdom.

 

He clinches the tip of his hat off his head as he kneels with his head bowed and eyes tightly closed, his palm firmly pressed against the gold crested buttons of his coat, right above his heart.

 

    “It is with a heavy heart and sincerest apologies that my entourage and I have arrived behind schedule in the most disrespectful way, My Lady.”

 

    “Late or never even have arrived, my husband and I remain eternally grateful for all you have done for us, My Lord. The only thing I ask of you, Your Excellency, is that you may rise up from the ground.” She shakes her head, looking down at him with a frown.

 

Indeed, Lord Yunho and the young lords following him rose up and bowed respectfully towards the Dowager Lady before immersing themselves among the sea of nobles and military leaders alike commemorating the late general.

 

Abruptly, a swift hand forcefully rips off the velvet cloak Lord Taehyung covered himself with, and exposing his true identity: his platinum blond hair and piercing, expressing Arctic ice blue eyes bearing his Velaryon blood and resemblance to his father.

    

    “Traitor! A Haeyang has infiltrated and crossed sacred Hanyang territory!”

 

Weary, distressed eyes turned vigilant and suspicious immediately in the presence of their avowed adversary stepping foot into their established enclave as the shimmer of ivory, metal and steel reflect against the blinding light pointed directly towards the young bastard.

 

    “My Lords, My Ladies-  I am here in peace- I am not who you think I am and I am nothing like my father-” Taehyung scrambles apprehensively, his arms raised up in defense as he hurriedly justifies the exception of his presence.

 

    “Liar! Are you not aware of the laws and proclamations you are breaking at this very moment? Have you not become aware of the recent Law the king had passed barely three months ago of a withstanding order that clearly dictates the boundaries between both factions?” Lord Hoseok barks vehemently, his soft features turning intimidating and belligerently aggressive, uncharacteristically unlike his character as he points the tip of his Valyrian steel sword ghastly above the thin skin above Taehyung’s bare neck.

 

    With dilated, astonished eyes, and his muscular body trembling in agitation and tremor, Kim Taehyung has never felt such coercion and apprehension in his life, that even his years in the disheveled, unkempt streets of King’s Landing are underwhelming compared to what he had just witnessed.

 

    “My Lords and Ladies, I trust the young man - he is in here in peace- I had brought him here with me- ” Yunho whips out his amethyst encrusted Valyrian steel sword in defense, sheltering the young ward with his back pressing into Taehyung’s broad chest at bay.

 

His plea and reasoning is up to no avail as clamors and outcries of acrimony and revulsion overpowers his voice in ignorance as they continue to clash towards the Hanyang baseborn savagely and mercilessly.

 

The prick of the pointed blade against his skin burned achingly as he bit his lips and tightly shut his eyes, in hopes of hiding the discomfort the edge pierced into him, yet before his blood would drip out of him any further, a faint, muted but deadly mutter from Lady Joohyun completely removes any contact off him.

 

    “I order you to leave the Lord Kim in peace. If he is here to pay his respects to my late husband not to cause ruckus or start acts of violence, he is a welcome guest of mine.”

 

The clatter of weapons dropping blatantly dropping against the ground rings in Taehyung’s ears, as he slowly opens his eyes and peeks directly at the lady who had mercifully saved his life.

 

    “As long as he is in my property, you are to lay no hand on him. No exceptions or disobedience. Am I understood?” A chill forms through his spine as Lady Bae unflinchingly orders the lords and ladies so intricately woven in her spell and dedicated under her command.

 

    “Yes, My Lady. My sincerest apologies.” Lord Jung Hoseok stoops on his knees and immediately folds his hands towards the ground, his face planted cold and bare against the marble ground.

 

    “As you wish, My Lady.” Lord Kim Jonghyun, fresh from his travels across the Narrow Sea nods obediently towards the Dowager Lady.

 

Taehyung’s fingers quiver in numbness as he feels all his blood rushing to his head and his cheeks turn rosy in disorientation, and befuddlement.

 

Without delay, he makes his way towards her, the thump of his hickory dyed leather boots echo through the room as he steps carefully, warily, and so gingerly as he is painfully aware of the vulnerability of his situation and his standing.

 

    He genuflects in her direction, as if he was at the temple, making his scarce prayers towards the Seven Gods and bows his head before gradually gathering the courage to look up and directly look at Lady Bae.

 

    Conviction and resolve oozed from the young lord, his jaw squared firmly, his eyes sharp and piercing, yet his lips locked in a comforting, sincere grin that complimented his angelic, celestial features so perfectly.

 

    “No words can justify the sacrifice and mercy you have given me, Your Excellency Dowager Lady Bae. There is nothing I can do to repay the gift you have so easily and selflessly given me, and if it is what pleases you the most my lady - I will gladly spend my entire life at your service.” Taehyung reaches for her hand, his fingers gently wrapped against the soft silk material of her glove, and presses it against his lips, keeping his eyes burning into her own.

 

Gasps of scandalized perplexity and puzzlement fills the room, not of hostility or aggression, but of genuine surprise and confusion as they are all lost for words and blinking repeatedly as they are frozen in their spots.

 

    The first known glimpse of a grin from the Lady Bae is hard to deny as she flashes her teeth and the efflorescence of her rosy lips bloom like a rose in the spring.

 

    “I will make sure to take your word to heart, Lord Kim Taehyung. I will trust you sincerely for that. Till your dying breath.”

 

…

 

 

    “You look gorgeous, My Lady! Absolutely beautiful! I have never seen such beauty like you in all the Seven Kingdoms, Lady Kang. Perfectly fitting for the next Crown Princess. My Crown Princess-” Seulgi broke out of her trance blanking out into the distance as the plump, cheeky seamstress claps her clammy hands excitedly in childish giggles.

 

Glancing at her reflection in the silver plated mirror on her wall, she is dolled up in an off-the shoulder lilac lace and tulle gown that was tightened up by an applique corset around her waist before it expanded into an organza ball gown that made her nothing but enchanting and the belle of the ball.

 

Twirling around, the gown’s sparkling embroidered beads gleamed against the light, giving the illusion that the auroral, beaming stars in the sky shone against the dark, late evening horizon in her gown.

 

Crumpling her willowy fingers into the thin layer of taffeta on her gown, Seulgi cannot help but frown in discomfort and uneasiness as much as she had loved dressing up for the role she had prepared and desired for all her life, it all felt wrong.

 

    “You look unhappy, dear cousin. Who is Kang Seulgi when she is unhappy? She is only such when she does not get what she wants, but you are getting everything you’ve wanted, Little Bear. That is not usually you when it comes to these matters.”

 

The teasing tone of her cousin, Min Yoongi, instantly prompts her to roll her eyes at him as she steps down the timbered platform that elevated her up for her dress fitting. He appears from the shadows of her decorated room, with his hands tucked in his pockets in a black and white floral coat accented with a blue necktie that contrasted his casual stance.

 

    “What are you doing here, Yoongi? Aren’t you too preoccupied with your own wedding planning that you don’t have time to meddle into my own potential wedding prospects?” She tantalizes him with her head tilted to the side before playfully punching him against his chest.

 

In response, he pulls her fist away from his physique with a clicking sound of his tongue, hiding a mischievous, gummy grin at how he and his cousin still acted the same way as they did as children.

 

    “I am about to make one last travel across the Narrow Sea to negotiate a few things with father and a few of our other uncles before my marriage with the Grand Princess Seungwan. By now, I am sure that I will settle for nothing but the best for my future wife, as she deserves-” Yoongi prances around the room, as he soothingly massages his neck before getting lost in his thoughts and rambling his words endlessly.

 

    “Tsk. The Princess really has you wrapped in her spell, hasn’t she, Grey Fox? You were never like this when we were growing up, but now you are to be a married man, and you have found such excitement in things you never even thought about-”

 

    “Nonsense! In fact, I am coming to you in these matters because these things are all you have yearned for when we were children. Even when we used to play hide and seek in the manor gardens with Seokjin, you had refused because you thought it was unladylike-”

 

    “I had just begun my private education with the  maesters and septas at that time, Yoongi! Of course I had to make a good first impression, and not start off with the wrong foot.” Seulgi retorts assuredly, before being assisted by her maids behind her three panelled canvas pastel pink panel screen as she changed into her sapphire blue evening gown.

 

The shipping magnate heir chuckled to himself lightly as he shakes his head in amusement, before crossing his arms, leaning against the wooden post of her poster bed.

 

“Your mother, my dearest aunt, had sent me to give you my final wishes before the official ceremony of your initiation as the Crown Princess-”

 

“Oh, here you go again - jumping to conclusions-”

 

“I am not jumping to conclusions when I am stating a true statement with concrete evidence to back it up, Little Bear. Joonmyun told me he overheard Lord Jaejoong extremely gallant that our faction would have the pride of having the next Crown Princess.”

 

Facing towards her cream framed  glass aperture towards her alabaster balcony, she forcefully grips the brass knob of the door before abruptly releasing its latch to grant her access to her dimly lit balcony.

 

She embraces herself and rubs her hands repeatedly against her biceps as her transparent sheer cerulean sleeves easily brisk in the cutting, crisp breeze of the night.

 

    “I realized how much of a silly little girl I had sounded like when I used to think that way, Yoongi.” She sighs pensively, resting her palms against the dampness of the faint dew raindrops on the edge of her railed balcony.

 

    “Seulgi, you know that those dreams of yours are more than just fantasies when it is our family name and pride at stake! What you have hoped for aligns with what uncle had instilled in your education over and over again to do what is best for the advancement of our faction.” He reasons sensibly, shaking his head in vacillation at the sudden shift of mindset of his cousin.

 

At the same time, she ignores her cousin’s premise and rationale as she stares deeply into the skyline brimmed with the towering trees swallowed in infinite obscurity and gloom that hold so much promise and potential that appeared even more interesting than what had previously been her life.

 

    Without warning, she listens eagerly like a hawk at the progressively increasing discrepancies of faint crunches of leaves scratching against their trunk and the recurring snapping of branches. An invader? Seulgi is ready to bring out the carved bow and arrow hidden in her closet and attack anyone who dares cross her territory. She is a true Haeyang after all.

 

Her cousin notices and recognizes nothing of her current troubles. Without his sword or family pride, he is blind to the truth right in front of him.

 

“I will return to speak to you again, Little Bear. Take some time to rethink some of your questionable sentiments, that is if your Lady Mother returns to scold you before I reappear.” He cautions her disdainfully, adjusting the scabbard of his sword before marching his way by her door assertively.

 

“I cannot promise you that, cousin. I am the last person you should trust with promises.” She looks over her shoulder as she stubbornly retorts, ignoring the flash of disappointment in his face.

 

Breathing out heavily, Seulgi shakes off the tension and retention all over her body and loosens up the constriction and worriment that had built up in her over the past few days.

 

All at once, a hooded figure draped in jet black appears from the corner of her eye from the mossed walls of her family manor, and tightly grips on her forearms without warning.

 

“Ah, get off me- How ” She forcefully convulses and attempts to throw off the firm grip on her that she cannot release, as she emphatically screeches before she is silenced by a gentle index finger pressed against her lips.

 

“Relax, my love - It is only me, your Jimin. Your one and only. I had come here to meet my love who I had missed so dearly!” Lord Park Jimin whispers repeatedly, softly hushing and asserting her that she should fear nothing when it was only her one and only love.

 

Seulgi slumps over in relief and grasps him in her arms, as her nose nuzzles softly against his scalp before trailing her way towards his handsome face with delicate brushes ghostly hovering over his figure.

 

“How did you make it in here, unscathed and uncaught? I am nothing but blissful and elated to see you again, but you have instilled such fear in me for the dangers you have crossed for my sake-”

 

“I had to do it, Seulgi. I had no other choice, as this is the only way I could see you or it would be another eternity again until our next meeting. I had to sneak away from Lord Bae’s funeral or I would never see you again.” He looks at her so eagerly, so fondly and with such affection as he tangles his fingers in her luscious locks.

 

The howling, whirling wind whooshes vehemently as leaves scrapes against their skin, and goose bumps form as alarm and trepidation reminds Seulgi that there are more eyes watching over her other than his.

 

Knock. Knock. Knock.  

 

    “Seulgi? It’s me, Yoongi. Your most loyal cousin. I had talked to your mother and a few of our most trusted men. We have to talk confidentially about what they had told me-” His muffled voice behind the door caused further panic as he returned earlier than she expected.

 

    “In a minute, Yoongi! I am yet to change in my sleep clothes.” She yells back at him, before tightening her grip on Jimin’s shoulders and looking fiercely at him.

 

    “Jimin, you have to go now-”

 

    “My love, I cannot go-”

 

    “Jimin-”

 

    “I want us to spend the rest of our lives together, Seulgi. I want it to be official. I want us to get married. I want us to make us official.”

 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

 

    “Seulgi? Why are you taking so much time? Is someone in there with you? I happen to hear a voice-”

 

    “Isn’t it too soon, Jimin-”

 

    “If we don’t do it now, it will never happen-”

 

    “We can talk about this later in the future-” She shooed him and points downwards towards the brick walls to leave as soon as possible, but he wouldn’t persist.

 

He isn't going to back down now that he has made it this far.

 

    “I will send more details later- I will send Jungkook, as my middle man, as my messenger to deal with our correspondence-”

 

    “Seulgi? What is going on in there? You better answer me, Little Bear-”

 

    “Jimin, you have to go- I will send Lady Kim Yerim. Kim Yerim. Tell Jungkook to send the letters to me through her-”

 

The door slams aggressively against the wall as Yoongi impatiently barges in her bedroom, before staring pointedly towards his cousin and the Hanyang heir.

 

    “What the hell are you doing in Haeyang territory? And most importantly, what are you doing with my cousin, Hanyang filth?”

 

 

...

 

 

A/N: Hey guys! I have missed you all so much that even though I had been planning to update tomorrow, I was so eager to finish that I stayed up to finish it all for you guys. Things are definitely heating up and we have gotten to know a few more characters that continue to intermingle as the politics in King's Landing continues to be turbulent and ever exciting. Enjoy! Please, please, please subscribe, comment, upvote and show your love for this fic in any way as I really, really appreciate it. Thank you so much! xoxo 

 

 

 

Song: "Get Free" by Lana Del Rey