Silence fell over them like bricks on their shoulders, eyes closed shut. They were exhausted, and it showed.

Jimin stared out the window, he has decided not to say anything about the King’s order of him becoming a concubine, he couldn’t say the words, not wanting them to worry. His mind was filled with questions and wishes of escaping but deep down he knew it was impossible. This was his fate, and he had to accept it if did not want trouble. Lucky for him, he requested the King to allow him to go home and say goodbye to his family, and King surprisingly granted his request.

After contemplating, he decided not to tell his family, instead come up with a lie of why he was going to the palace.

 

The carriage reached home as the sun was starting to set, they left the palace before sunrise, giving them a head start. As the carriage came to a stop in front of their old orphanage house in the country, far into the woods, no words were exchanged. Eyes filled with sleep glare at one another as they get out of the carriage, Taemin picking up the small chest of gold beside their clothing, and Jimin taking the chest with their clothes in it. He thanked Mr. Lee, the carriage driver, the man nods his head, as he prepares to leave.

 

The door swings open and children come running towards them, giggling and laughing as they each hugged them, welcoming them back. Jimin bites his lower lip, fighting back the sadness that suddenly came when he realized that this was his last night with his family. Patting them on the head, he glances up and locks eyes with their mother who stood at the doorway, arm crossed. Jimin forces a smile, waving at her. She chuckles, waving at him.

“Alright guys, it’s getting dark, let’s go inside.”

 

“Wow!” exclaims the children as Taemin opens the chest, as the gold twinkled from the oil lamp shining near it.

“This will last us forever, we can anything we want, buy all the clothes and shoes we want, and maybe even buy a carriage- “says Taemin.

“Okay, let’s get carried away,” interrupts their mother, “Are you guys hungry, you came just in time for dinner, food is already set on the table.”

 

Despite having no appetite, Jimin forced himself to sit at the table and enjoy what little time he has with his family. Burning their faces, laughs and every little detail about them in his mind, to keep them in a special place in his memory to revisit.

“Oh,” says Dahyun, “You never told us why the Lord asked for you?”

“Huh?” says Jimin, spaced out, as he glances over at Dahyun.

“The Lord,” says Suzy, “Where did he take you?”

Jimin clenches his chopsticks, staring at the eyes looking back at him with questions and fear. He takes a deep breath,

“Oh, I went to see the head of the servants,” he says, “He says there is a job for me if I am interested but I told him I don’t perform alone.”

“Oh?” says Taemin.

“Oh, thank god,” he says, “I was so worried.”

“Stop thinking so much nonsense,” he says, laughing.

Jimin glances up at his mother who smiles at him, and he smiles back at her, turning back to his food.

Dinner was over, Dahyun went to help the children to bed, as Suzy clears up the table while everyone got up to head to the room that they share.

“Jimin,” calls his mother.

Jimin stops and turns to her, “Yes, mother.”

“Come with me,” she says, “I need help with something in my room.”

“Yes, mother.”

 

Jimin follows her to her room, she gestures for him to close the door behind him and he does.

“The old man from the market gave me this,” she says, holding a fruit, “This is a Persimmons, they come from the East, far away from our country, I wanted to have it.” Jimin takes the fruit, staring at his mother,

“Thank you, I’ll share it with the others, I bet Dahyun would love it.” She chuckles, gazing at him in silence. Jimin looks up, noticing, “why’re you looking at me?”

“Always thinking about others,” she says softly, “I knew from the day I found you in a basket in front of the orphanage that you truly unique. I have watched you laugh and cry, but you cannot lie even if you wanted to, so what’s wrong?”

Jimin swallows hard, trying to find the words, as he stares at the orange fruit in his hand, he glances back up at his mother.

“The King ordered me to become his concubine,” dimly the words escaped his mouth, followed by tears. Without uttering a word, his mother wrapped her arms around him and embraces him, tightly. Jimin wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her as he sobbed, and tears flooded like the waters rushing down from a waterfall.

After a minute, she let’s go of him, wiping his tears, “First thing tomorrow, before the sun rises, I want you to leave, go somewhere far from the Kingdom.” Jimin sniffles, eyes blurry from the tears,

“What?”

“I want you to run away,” she says.

“Mother, I can’t,” he says, “I know the King is loved by many because of his kindness to the people but I also know any defiance will result in our death. I will not do anything that will bring harm to you guys.”

“And as your mother, I will not let you be tarnished and live your life as a possession, is that clear?”

“Mother…” says Jimin, his voice cracking, “Please do not make this harder for me, I have accepted my fate as you have always taught me. We live our life as God intends, and I will not be the cause of your deaths.”

“Jimin- “

“I’ll die before I let anything happen to you all, promise me you will not say anything to the others.”

“What do you want me to say to them? They love you.”

“I know that is why I want to spare them the pain,” he says, “I’ll leave tomorrow before anyone awakens. Tell them anything that will keep them safe.”

His mother exhales deeply, Jimin hated seeing the pain in her eyes, as they twinkled from the tears forming. Their mother is a strong person and the only time he has seen her cry is when their father died, she worked hard and raised them all on her own.

“There are three kinds of people in this world that are able to survive no matter what is thrown at them,” she says, placing her hand on his shoulder, “They are those who accept their fate and never fight, those who use their beauty to serve others in exchange for power without wielding to anyone and those who have power and use it to trample on others. I don’t want you to accept your fate, I want you to challenge it and never let anyone trample you. Promise me.”

Jimin exhales, gazing at his mother, her eyes filled with rage yet comfort, “I promise.”

“watch, listen and keep silent, let them think they are in control and when you get the chance to freedom, I want you to take with no regards for anyone. Is that clear?”

“Yes, mother.”

 

Jimin hugs his mother, her words echoing in his mind. I promise I will not become a living doll.

***

Jimin stood still in front of the king’s eunuch, Maha in charge of the concubines in the palace. There are three groups of concubines, the first group consisted of the legal wives of the King other than his Queen, they have a higher authority than any concubine in the palace. The second group were the princesses who were unmarried, second in authority and the third group are the girls and boys who were deemed beautiful and bought as slaves and others given as gifts to the King from all the place. Jimin knew the sole purpose of concubine but he didn’t understand why the King had so many concubines in the imperial Haram when he already has three sons, one a Crown Prince ready to take over the throne for when he passes. Was his existence really for the sole purpose of pleasing the King?

He sighs, the thought tuning his stomach in disgust. His eyes unwavering as Maha, the eunuch, older yet beautiful with long jade black hair, tied in a ponytail, circled him, examine him.

“Many beautiful girls dream and wish to be selected to be the King’s concubine so that their family could rise up through their success,” he says, “But for boys is different, their beauty itself is a curse but it could be a gift if harnessed correctly. You’re extraordinarily beautiful and your hair, the color of cherry blossom, so rare, like a ruby.”

Jimin flinches, moving away as Maha’s hand reached to touch his face, the eunuch snickers, glaring at him.

“You want to survive, heed my warnings, for girls it is easy for them to establish a bond with the King once they give him a child but for us, but for boys our beauty is all we have but as time comes that also leaves us so thinking before acting will take you to place higher than you can imagine.”

Jimin sighs, “Why’re you telling me this?”

“A warning I give every child that walks through those gates,” says Maha, “You obey orders, keep your head down and time will quickly pass. You’ll be treated for any illness and disease for thirty days before you lay down with the King, so you will find yourself spending time with the other concubines-”

Jimin clenches his teeth, catching his gaze, “We don’t live in separate housings?” So I have to be careful with my actions.

Maha chuckles, “Only those with ranks have their own estates, all new and young ones such as yourself live in this estate under my rules. So, if you are not used to living among others, quickly learn.”

“I have no problem with living with others,” he says.

Maha snickers, “We all do work around the estate and palace based on your what skills, since you are a dancer, I will look for work for you around the Royal Entertainment Housing.”

“I can dance?”

The eunuch stares at him silently, “Of course not, as a concubine you cannot parade yourself in front of others unless the King is present,” he says.

“So, what will I be doing then?”

“We’ll find something, do not concern yourself with it,” says Maha, he gestures for one of his servants to come forward, “We’re done here, take him to the kitchen for breakfast and also to meet the others.”

“Yes master,” says the female servant.

“Follow him and remember my words.”

“Master?” says another female servant, walking in the room.

“What is it?” says Maha, displeased.

“A servant from the palace asking for Jimin.”

“A servant from the palace?” says Maha, glancing at Jimin and back at the female servants, “What does it concern?”

“I am not certain, master,” she says, head lowered.

“Follow me,” says Maha.

 

They reach the palace servant, a young boy a few years older than Jimin, who stood at the gates, “What does this concern, Minho?”

“It’s a private matter,” he says.

“Private matter?” says Maha, in a displeasing puzzled tone, “Does it concern the King?”

“I’m not at liberty to say, master Maha,” he replies.

“Alright,” says Maha, turning to Jimin, “You may go.”

 

Jimin followed the boy, Minho who was walking in front of him. He was dressed nice, and with Maha mentioning the King, he concluded he was being summoned by the King once again. But remembering what Maha said about him being treated for illness and diseases before the King could touch him, comforted him and loosened the tight knot in his stomach. Jimin looks around, he was not familiar with the palace, it was beautiful. The palace had architecture like no other places he has ever seen. With four sides around a central quadrangle and over five hundred rooms. With an army of servants to upkeep such a large abode.

 

They arrive at a golden door with beautiful designs, Jimin looks around as Minho slides open the doors, exposing another golden door, they walk through the golden door, exposing the third one. Minho turns to him,

“You may enter,” says Minho, opening the door, “Your Majesty.” Jimin turns towards the door and slowly walks in as Minho closes the door behind him. The room was beautiful, with flowery designs but none that made him comfortable, a large bed was hidden by see-through silk drapes.

The King was seated on a chair in front of a small brown table, Jimin bows down and greets him. 

“Come and sit with me,” orders the King.

“Your Highness,” says Jimin, head lowered, anything to avoid his gaze, what does he want? He wonders. This was the second time he was meeting the King, and it was morning, so he could clearly see him with the light brightly shining through. He dressed in dark cloth with a stoic expression, no hint of a smile.

“Come sit at the cushion,” says the King. Jimin glances up, puzzled but without question, he gets up and sits at the small yellow cushion across from the King. He notices there was a silver kettle on the table with two small cups,

“Have you eaten?”

“No-no, yet,” says Jimin, “Your Highness.”

“I’m glad, I asked you here so we can eat together,” says the King. Jimin stares at him, eyes widen, wondering why the King would want to eat breakfast with him?

“I’m-I’m not- “

“It displeases you?”

“Huh?”

“Being here?”

“No-no, your highness, I’m honored.”

“I’ve only ever had two people in this room,” he says, “You’re the third. Your beauty and unique hair have captivated me.”

Jimin fidgets with his finger, staring at the table, what used to be compliment now sounded like fleeting words, trapping him. He swallows hard, trying to hide his emotions, his disgust, and anger.

“Your words are pleasing to hear, I’m not worthy of such high praise.”

“honey?”

Jimin glances up, “I can put- “

“No, let me,” says the King, putting a spoon of honey in the tea, Jimin watches wondering if he really is as kind as he seems, or was it all an act? The same as him, forcing a smile as to not offend the King, but he is the King he has no need to worry about offending a commoner such as him.

Why is he treating him as kindly?

***

Breakfast with the King went smoothly, he ate splendid food with aromas he has never smelled before nor tasted before. He couldn’t help but think about the girls who dream of being the King’s concubine? He was astonished the King didn’t try to touch him, he asked him questions and they chatted about insignificant things.

As he walks out of the King’s chambers, he sees Minho, who was ready to take him back. Jimin sighs, turning at him,

“I can find my way out.”

“Um…”

Before Minho could utter a word, Jimin walked away, leaving him dumbfounded. He wanted a chance to explore the palace, to learn more about it in hopes he can find a way out as well.

Walking aimlessly, the fountain of water caught his attention, it was beautiful with flowers surrounding it. He turns his gaze from the fountain and notices one of the princes walking towards him followed by his two bodyguards. He recognized the Prince because he was sitting beside his father and brother when Jimin was performing.  He was not familiar with who is who and couldn’t place a name on him. He had dark brown hair with a bowl cut, with a round face, very big rounded eyes with long lashes. He was beautiful, almost too unreal to exist. He had a distinct expression or the lack of expression.

Jimin panics, not sure of what to do if he was to get in trouble wandering around the palace how would he explain it? As they got closer, he moves to the side to allow them to pass, bowing down. The Prince and his guards walked past him without noticing his presences. Jimin sighs, relieved, as he was about to walk, he heard the order to stop. He takes a deep breath and keeps walking hoping it was not addressed to him.

“Halt servant!” the order came louder from behind him. Damn.

Jimin inhales and exhales before turning around to face them, “Yes?”

“Are you deaf?” says one of the guards, hand on his sword, “Did you not hear the Prince ask you to stop?”

“I’m sorry,” says Jimin, “I didn’t know he was addressing me.” The guard glares at him, as the Prince and his other guard walked to where they were.

“I know you,” says the Prince. Jimin glances at him for a second before lowering his head,

“You’re the dancer who performed at my father’s birthday?” Jimin keeps quiet, surprised the Prince recognized him.

“Why’re you roaming around the palace?” 

“I’m not, I was summoned- “

“Summoned by who?”

Jimin gulps, biting his lower lip, “The K-Ki-King,” he stutters.

“The King?” says the Prince, shocked, as he exchanges glance with his guards, “Why would the King summon a commoner to his chambers?”

“I-I- “

“You must be lying.”

“I am not,” says Jimin, looking and locking eyes with him, angry.

“How dare you raise your voice at the Prince!” roars the guard, his palm landing on Jimin’s cheek before he could see it. The slap was so loud and hard, he staggered backward, and the hallway went silent. Clutching his face, eyes watering, Jimin went silent.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a voice roared from behind him. Jimin froze, still holding his cheek that was red and stinging.

“Crown Prince,” says the guard.

“Elder brother, Jin,” says the Prince eyes wide.

“What has the boy done to get hit?” says the Crown Prince Jin, “Care to explain Taehyung?” 

“He disrespected me,” answers the Prince Taehyung, “He dared to shout at me?”

 

 Jimin can feel the Crown Prince standing beside him but he was too afraid to look at him, eyes lowered as he tries to fight back the tears. He has never been hit by anyone in his life, he was shocked, and the pain numbed him.

“You?” says the Crown Prince, staring at him with shock, “What’re you doing here?”

“He says he was summoned, my father.”

“He was summoned by the King- wait? You’re the boy I heard father took in as a concubine?”

“Concubine?” exclaims Taehyung, “What’re you talking about?”

“I have you asked you a question?” demands the Crown Prince. Jimin lifts up his eyes,

“Yes, your highness.”

“What’s the meaning of this Jin? What do you mean father took in a male concubine?” 

“Just as it sounds, Taehyung,” roars the Crown Prince, “He is telling the truth, the King did summon him.”

“Then he deserves more than a slap,” says Prince Taehyung, looking at Jimin who glared at him, eyes filled with rage. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Taehyung,” says the Crown Prince, silencing him with a warning look.

“Fine,” says Taehyung, turning around and walking away.

 

Jimin stood still, head lowered as the Crown Prince gazed at him. The Crown Prince reaches over and Jimin flinches and takes a step back, as the Prince stops his hand in mid-air, clearing his throat.

“I apologize, my brother is an idiot,” says the Crown Prince, with a smile. Jimin glances at him, not sure of how to react. The Crown Prince resembled his father a bit and stood at the same height, but his eyes were very beautiful, dark brown with an oval almond shape to them. But despite their resemblance, he found the Crown Prince’s smile to be sincere.

“It must hurt a lot,” says the Crown Prince, reaching into his coat and pulling out a small glass bottle, “Take it, it’ll help with the pain and swelling.” 

Jimin glares at him, “No thank you, your Highness,” he answers, “If there is not anything else, may I have your permission to leave?”

The Crown chuckles, reaching over and taking his hand, and placing the bottle on his palm, “It'll  be petty if that beautiful face is ruined,” he says, “You have my permission to leave but first, tell me your name?”

“Jimin.”

“Jimin, surname?”

“I don’t have one, your Highness.”

“You don’t have one? Were you conceived by magic or a stone?”

“No, I have no father, I’m an orphan.”

“Oh, my apologies.”

Jimin sighs, “May I go?”

“Yes, you may,” says the Crown Prince, “But you’re heading the wrong way, the gates are that way, pass the water fountain and around the corner.”  

“Thank you, Your Highness.”