As Beryl saw Yoongi's state of puzzlement when she voiced her wish out loud, her wide smile turned into a smug grin—the priceless chance she got to experience watering and nourishing her own revenge with was shamelessly pleasing to her vengeful desires.

Yoongi's firm expression never made a movement and his furrowing eyebrows never willed to disappear as he raised his arm in the air, beckoning the man who waited impatiently to announce the execution so it could take place— for real.

Yoongi's hands were either shaking because he was utterly angry or because he was absolutely hesitant about sticking to his decisions. He, himself, couldn't comprehend nor detail the feeling teeming his heavy heart and hazy chest.

The servant eagerly hit the gong.

Dong...

Dong...

Dong...

Beryl, although being ready to guzzle that poison in a twinkling of an eye, still stared at Yoongi, amusement embellishing her pale features—causing another wave of pure nervousness to shred every nerve Yoongi had.

A few gasps caused Yoongi to fiercely turn his head to the side, to see what his maids were exaggerating about. And just as much as he thought it would be something of mere significance, it turned out to be something of everything but little significance; the queen, herself, was here, face teemed with amusement—while a hint of anger hid behind her