It is daybreak when the rings of gongs disrupt the calm morning at the Gyeongbok Palace.

Awoken from his slumber, Yoongi scrunches up his nose and groans softly out of protest. He shifts onto his side underneath the flimsy sheets only to get up when he realizes he couldn't fall asleep.

Yoongi sits at the edge of his comforter, rubbing his eyes. He blinks once, yawns, and blinks again, scuffling out in his thin sleeping gown towards the natural lighting, peering out of the opening. He takes in the beauty of the rising sun in the east: a palette full of vibrant apricots and golden rays hidden behind the dawn's thick puffy white clouds. He can hear the faintest burst of winds when birds flap their wings gleefully from treetops, chirping tunes and calling mates; the drops of dew falling from greenery when sunlight peaks behind the cold shadows.

He stands there, basking in the glorious morn with squinty eyes and bedhead, watching women and men scatter the cobbled floors from below, squabbling towards their designated post. Yoongi's ears pick up the sudden movement of the wooden door sliding open and the light thuds of socked feet approaching him.

"Good morning, Your Highness," Yoongi hears Jackson, one of his personal attendants, says softly from behind.

"Good morning," Yoongi answers, wincing at how rough and edgy his voice sounded. He had never woken up nor gotten dressed this early, and was about to apologize for sounding cold and inconsiderate but he remembers that Jackson knew that he didn't mean to.

"Morning tea, Yoongi-ssi?"

"Table, please," the prince quickly replies. Yoongi hears the fine chinaware tapping against each other when it was set down and liquid being poured into a porcelain cup; he can smell of sweet scent of chamomile tea overflowing his nostrils.

 

Yoongi turns around, blocking the noisy chatter and footsteps of servants from below as he makes his way to Jackson. He sits down on the plump pillow, smoothing out his white gown. Jackson's tan hands carefully carried the hot serving and presented to Yoongi, and the prince thanked the boy, blowing before taking a small sip of the warm fluid.

It was a small interaction, but that is how their friendship begins. Yoongi enjoys his morning tea, and Jackson balances with a few servant gossips with his master. Then, Yoongi's quarter doors slide open.

It was Hoseok, his half-blooded brother from another mother.

Yoongi raises his brows.

"Come in."

Yoongi hears the socked thuds as Hoseok comes to him, the crinkles of the cotton fabric scratching against the wooden floor stops once Hoseok is across from him. Yoongi sets the half-empty cup down gently on the small tabletop.

"What brings you to my quarters, dearest brother?"

Hoseok flashes him a bright grin. Yoongi feels a sharp twitch in his right eye and internally groans at how bright his younger brother's smile is; Yoongi being light-headed from the lack of sleep.

"Can I not?"

"No," Yoongi stands up to get dressed, sauntering towards the middle of the room, "I'm just curious as of to why you're here."

Hoseok smiles merely and pours his own cup. Yoongi doesn't say anything, too, and allows Jackson's fingers to work carefully but efficiently.

 

♔♔♔

 

Time flies by.

White replaces with lilac, and a beautifully embroidered burgundy red replaces lilac.

Yoongi stands there, eyes closed and chin up, acting all almighty and confident like the first-born child he was. He holds still like he was taught to do so, ignoring Hoseok and lifting up his arms out once in a while for other servants to dress him for today's special occasion.

"Are you going to attend Mother's birthday party?"

Yoongi snaps his eyes open and immediately looks at Hoseok sharply, dodging the bobbing of Jackson's and Jaebum's heads as they draped fabrics over him. He sees Hoseok rolls his eyes, crumpling his vibrant purple and yellow colored hanbok before propping a leg up.

"I'm asking you a question, hyung—"

"One that I don't appreciate you are asking, Hoseok," Yoongi interrupts sharply. There was a pause before Yoongi speaks again. "Get out."

"You know fairly well how Mother is going to react when the eldest son isn't present the ceremony," Hoseok says rather aggressively, "and I rather not have Namjoon coming after you for making her upset."

Of course. The Empress would be disappointed in him; he hadn't gone to any of the family gatherings ever since he turned fifteen.

As the first-born, Yoongi is famously known as the only prince that brutally voices honest feelings concerning the imperial family's parties and group gatherings—it was somewhat dull. There wasn't much to do besides eating like picky palm nut vultures, conversing about diplomacies and marriage, and acting as perfect and mannered as possible.

And Yoongi being Yoongi are none of these.

In fact, he would much rather prefer being somewhere more tranquil, like being in the comfort of his quarters and pavilion, then be somewhere boisterous with a father, a step-mother, two half-blooded siblings, and forty-something concubines that his father has.

His step-mother, Empress Kim is a kind woman without a doubt. She had the presence of a dominating leader, yet her touches were out of sincerity and generosity; there wasn't a single evil thought in her blood. Unfortunately, the Empress couldn't bear children, and after years of trying, the family grew desperate for an heir. So when the imperial family finds out that Yoongi, the first son to bear the blood and flesh of the emperor, came into the world from a concubine, the Empress took him as her own and named him Crown Prince.

Same goes for Hoseok, the second-born.

However, the Empress eventually conceived, Namjoon was born nine months later, and a whole controversy started. He had been only five, Hoseok being three when the court council started asking their father if the title 'Crown Prince' would stay with Yoongi, a concubine's son, or be passed down to Namjoon, his wife's son. And their father, the emperor, finalized his decision a week later: When Yoongi turns fifteen, the title will be finalized then.

By then, Yoongi had already known many in the higher courts didn't favor him despite what the Empress says. No matter how many praises and love she had showered him with, it is evident that he wasn't a full-blooded Kim. His birth mother had been a Min—one of the Emperor's beloved concubines other than Hoseok's mother—and his half-blooded younger brother Namjoon was the Empress's son. And many of the officials made it clear that it was only appropriate for Namjoon to be given the throne. So Yoongi did just that: on Namjoon's tenth birthday, Yoongi voluntarily gives his birthright to Namjoon as a birthday present.

Yoongi doesn't regret it, though.

He had no desire for the throne and had already seen the skills Namjoon had possessed by the age of eight. He has a sharp mind, solving almost the impossible arithmetic questions, and is philosophic, expanding his vocabulary far more than Yoongi did when he was Namjoon's age. There was no doubt with a few more years and training, Namjoon would be the best fit for Emperor. Of course, the Empress wasn't too elated about Yoongi's decision because he was, indeed, the Emperor's first son, and the two of them had quarreled the day after.

Yoongi had wholly avoided family gatherings ever since then. But of course, the Empress, or 'Mother' as Hoseok calls her, had cared, dotted, and supported his decisions no matter what despite his backlash. Yoongi heaves a big sigh. He supposed it would be rude to not show up to the Empress's birthday. It was his obligation in a way as the first prince to attend these events along with any other formal political meeting.

After all, she is the woman who raised him up because his birth mother had passed away.

 

"I might go."

Hoseok's face lit up, a broad smile etched on his face. The younger prince stands up and brushes off the dust off of his vibrant hanbok before taking small strides towards the door. The door opens, and before he exits, Hoseok quickly turns around to look at Yoongi.

"Mother will be happy, you know?"

Yoongi doesn't say anything, allowing Jackson and Jaebum to finish draping and tieing him. Hoseok's smiles falter at the lack of response and mutter a "see you soon" before disappearing behind the sliding doors.

Yoongi releases a sigh, catching the attention of his two attendants.

"Are you okay, Your Highness?" Jaebum asks, his brows furrowed in concern. Jackson lets out a noise of agreement from behind as he finishes deliberately wrapping a piece of embroidered black silk around the layer of dark red and lilac fabric.

Red. A concubine's son.

"I am," Yoongi responds smoothly, "Thank you for the concern, Jaebum, Jackson." He brings his arms down and running his fingers along the silky fabric. He suddenly feels aware of his situation, and the prince can feel his palms sweat, the uncomfortable clammy feeling rising up his skin. It had been so long since Yoongi had been dressed up for a formal event like this and he had forgotten what it felt like to be watched by millions and billions of the common eyes.

"So, how do I look?" he asks, slightly apprehensive. He watches the two younger boys slowly turn to face him, eyes wide and lips parted, squealing and clasps their hands in awe.

"Very handsome and full of charisma!" Jackson gushes, swooning over the prince as they fixed the black hat.

Yoongi feels warm at the compliment and shyly smiles.

"You think so?"

"Absolutely!" Jaebum cheers.

"We know so," Jackson cheekily replies before helping Yoongi with his shoes. "Now go out there and impress the whole palace, Your Highness!"

Yoongi chuckles and turns around to exit his room, the burgundy red showing its vivid colors underneath the bright sunlight, and Jackson and Jaebum merely trail along, smiling at the prince from behind and follows the elder a step back in their green attire out to the main palace.