The shrill sound of the commander's whistle rang in Taehyung's ears for the hundredth time that day. His muscles had been overworked to the extent that his thighs burned, and his arms shook as he attempted to pull Yoongi close. Thus far, his tactic had been to outlast the other competitors with his endurance and defeat them with his agility. However, fighting Yoongi was different. Yoongi knew him. He could anticipate Taehyung's next moves and counter them instantly. He was probably one of the only people in the arena who stood a chance of defeating Taehyung.

The battle was evenly matched. Taehyung quickly countered all Yoongi's attacks, and vice versa. Every strategy seemed futile as they dragged each other around the wide field. Beads of sweat ran down both their faces and the aching in their muscles grew with every moment that passed. Neither man was willing to forfeit, yet neither man appeared to have an advantage over the other. It was difficult to estimate the length of the match, but it was safe to consider it the longest and most intense one of all.

The crowd had grown completely silent, everyone watching this finale in anticipation.

"If you give up now, I will make this loss look less humiliating for you," Taehyung proposed in a low voice.

Yoongi's response was restricted to a short scoff before he charged forward unexpectedly, causing Taehyung to stumble backwards, drawing him dangerously close to where the royals were seated. Before Taehyung could regain his footing, Yoongi took full advantage of this opportunity to shove him against Chaeyoung's chair. Except for a small gasp of surprise, she did not make a sound as his back pressed against her legs.

Taehyung was momentarily stunned that Yoongi had been so careless as to involve the royals in their fight. Any more force and the Princess could have fallen from her chair and acquired an injury that would guarantee death for both of them. As he anchored a foot behind Yoongi's leg, Taehyung could feel Chaeyoung's chair shake. Quickly, Taehyung dragged his other foot behind the front leg of her chair to stabilize it. In the next second, he had rotated Yoongi's body and recklessly forced him backwards against the first available surface. Unfortunately, that happened to be the Crown Prince's chair.

This time the chair did fall. And Taehyung's earlier concern had become a reality.

The crowd gasped as they collectively watched Mingyu's chair crash to the ground, taking him with it. It all occurred so fast and unexpectedly that his reflexes had no time to kick in. He fell backwards, using his forearms to brace himself and avoid hitting his head. A loud bell announced the end of the match, just as Yoongi and Taehyung untangled themselves from each other to stare at the Prince with considerable surprise, but minimal concern.

"Your highness!" several guards rushed to assist him, "are you alright?"

With his peripheral vision, Taehyung could see Yoongi rolling his eyes and stifled a laugh. Although it had not been their original intention to harm the Prince, it was clear that neither of them felt particularly remorseful. In fact, Taehyung felt strangely satisfied by the turn of events.

"You two," Mingyu barked, marching towards Yoongi and Taehyung, "you have just injured your future King. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

"I wish it would have occurred sooner?" Yoongi muttered under his breath, causing Taehyung to suppress another smile. Hatred for the monarchy was one of the few things they had in common.

"What was that?" Mingyu asked, stepping closer towards Yoongi.

At this point, Chaeyoung had also stepped down from her chair, her expression grim as she walked towards them.

"The only damage we have inflicted on you are some grass stains on your fancy hanbok," Taehyung tried to reason, and then reluctantly decided to add in for good measure, "your highness."

The crowd began to bristle at that, some chuckling quietly and some beginning to whisper. The proper method of handling this situation would have been for both Yoongi and Taehyung to repent immediately and beg for mercy; however, Yoongi and Taehyung were far from proper.

Mingyu turned his attention to Taehyung, his eyes furious when he grabbed the collar of Taehyung's shirt, "is that any way to speak to your future King?"

Taehyung stared at the well-groomed hands wrapped around his collar and summoned every ounce of self-control to remain calm. It would be so easy and so satisfying to smack him in the jaw, but it would also provoke a death sentence. He was still contemplating if it would be worth it when Chaeyoung interrupted.

"Mingyu that is quite enough." She placed a hand on his shoulder, "it was simply an accident."

He shrugged her hand off as if it were the most repulsive thing he had ever encountered. A strange reaction, considering they were family.

"Your input is unnecessary," he growled, without even turning to address her, "I will handle this as I see fit."

Taehyung raised a brow as he witnessed this exchange, feeling a small twinge of sympathy when he noticed the hurt flash across her face.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Mingyu announced loudly, raising his arms and beginning to pace around the circular arena as he addressed the crowd, "these two men have blatantly disrespected me in front of all of you this evening. And as I am a firm believer in justice, I think it would be only fair to do the same to them. If they bow down to me, beg for forgiveness, and kiss the bottom of my two feet, I will only chop one of their arms off."

Again, the crowd collectively gasped, this time in horror. A few of them began to shift uncomfortably and others began to cover their children's ey