“Bastard,” mutters Jimin, as he walks through the gates of the Imperial concubine house, clenching the ointment that the Crown Prince gave him.

Without uttering a word to anyone, he walked directing to his chamber, closing the door. His knuckles were white from clenching his fingers too hard, as he gritted his teeth to keep himself from shouting. He sits on the bed, trying to calm himself, the door opens, and he looks up. Maha, the eunuch stood at the doorway, arms crossed,

His cheek red and anger boiling, Jimin remain silent in fear, he might mentally snap and say something insulting, something he would later regret, no doubt. Maha approaches him,

“Who summoned you?”

Jimin sighs, “The King.”

Maha gasps, eyes widening as his mouth opens to say something but could not find the words,

“Why?”

Jimin exhales, he was not in the mood, “to join him for breakfast in his chambers.”

“Oh my,” says Maha, walking and sitting beside him, “You have not even shared a bed with him, and you have been to his private chambers, he must be captivated. And why shouldn’t be? You’re so beautiful.” Maha reaches over to touch his cheek, and Jimin stands up. Maha laughs,

“That’s a nasty bruise.”

“A gift from the second Prince,” says Jimin, sarcastically.

“How unfortunate, not even a day at the Palace and how did you offend him?”

“I raised my voice,” replies Jimin, damn bastard.

“Careful with him, he hates concubines, or as he calls us,” says Maha, “You do not want to be known by him.”

“Why?”

“Just heed my words,” says Maha, “How about joining the others, they are all curious to meet you.”

“I doubt it.”

“Come on now child, one thing at a time.”

Jimin sighs, tossing the ointment on the bed as he follows Maha to where everyone was gathered. As soon as they walked in, the room went silent, eyes glancing at them, mostly on him. It was a large open area, beautifully decorated with carpets on the floors and cushions. They were all so young and beautiful, some even younger than him, maybe age thirteen, and just as Maha said, they weren’t many male concubines, there only two with him being the third. Jimin could not help but wonder how they became the King’s concubine; did they share the same unfortunate luck?

“So, this is the one, the beautiful dancer who the captivated the King in seconds,” says one of the girls, laying on her side on a large cushion with plates and bowls of fruits and sweets, she must the leader, it seems like everyone was responding to her. She gets up and walks to where Jimin stood, she was beautiful, more beautiful than the all the concubine he has seen but something in her eyes tells him that her beauty is concealing nothing but ugliness deep inside. She wore a red Lace Trail dress with a golden corset tightly around her waist below her s, with long black hair down to her waist, complimenting her white skin. Jimin could tell right away she was a foreigner.

“She is Lady Tzuyu,” introduces Maha, “a slave bought to the King as a gift at the age of ten, she also has the King’s ear, so beware.”

“Yes,” says Tzuyu, standing in front of Jimin, looking at him from head to toe, and scoffs, 

“Beware, you’re more beautiful than the all the male concubines I ever saw.”

Jimin stares at her, heeding Maha’s words, and he had no interest in backtalking a woman, especially people like her, and he also has no intention of bowing down to anyone in the same situation as him. They were all commoners with the clothing of the royalty.

“That’s a pretty mark on your cheek,” she says.

Jimin sighs, “If there is not anything else, I’ll return to my room.”

“Stay,” says one of the other concubines, with light brown hair, “we’re all curious to know your story.”

“My story?”

“Yes,” she says, “Male concubines are as rare, so tells us your story.”

Jimin chuckles, “Um a commoner ordered to serve the King, just as you,” he replies, “And if you don’t nothing of me Maha, I’ll retire to my room.”

“Insolent!” roars Tzuyu, “Be my enemy and you will regret it.”

“Watch your tongue Lady Tzuyu, as long as I am in charge of this Mansion, you will all learn to live in harmony. I will not stand for such talk.”

“Apologies, I did not mean to offend you, master,” she says with a smirk, “I was merely voicing out my thoughts.

Jimin sighs, walking away. Oh Lord, let me live peaceful in the palace until you grant me a door to freedom, he prays in his mind as he caresses his necklace.

***

Jimin rubs his eyes as he stares at the imposing columns all around the rectangular bathtub, everything was confusing as his sleep was disturbed and dragged to the mansion’s private lavatory room by Maha, and two servants.

He glances between them, “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Your treatments begin now for thirty days beginning every day at dawn, the physician, already set up the oil bath for treatment, get dressed and soak in it for an hour, it is the detox process, the servants are here to help you.”

“Um…” says Jimin, flushed as a tomato. He has never been in front of anyone, not even his family, he was not about to begin, now.

“Do not be embarrassed, they are only doing what is required of them, they are experienced,” says Maha, turning around, “Do not forget to stay hydrated and keep timing, the servants will assist you.”

Jimin turns around to the two lady’s staring at him, he clears his throat, “I’ll undress, you may leave.”

“We are to assist you,” says one of them.

“I am capable of bathing on my own,” he says, “Do not worry, go on with your business.”

“But- “

“Leave!”

“Yes, master,” they say as they walk out of the lavatory room. He exhales loudly, brushing his hair back, looking around, the lavatory room was large, with a huge rectangular bathtub filled with water, sea salt, and chamomile oil. Jimin sighs, undressing, he shivers as the cold morning breezing brushed against his body, he had a perfectly sculpted body- a chiseled yet eloquent chest, abdomen with visible six, thick muscular thighs, with a perfectly matched small waist, giving him the body of a god with an angelic face. All proof of all the daily labor and countless hours of practice he spent on dancing since at the age of five.

He steps into the tub, shivering as he sinks in the water, staring at the cup of water he was supposed to drink to keep hydrated as the oil bath releases the toxic in his body. The oil bath felt nice, it was warm as he takes a deep breath and leans his head back.

As time went by, staying alert, aware of the time, and keeping hydrated, Jimin was covered in sweat, glistening from the oil lamps lighting up the room. He takes a deep breath, exhaling, as beads of sweat salty as tears run into his mouth, he takes another drink of the water. His body was completely waking, he could the sun shining brightly from small circle mirror on top of the roof.

***

After the detoxing bath, Jimin steps out of the bath, into slippers, water dripping from his body as he walks. Every inch of his body feeling relaxed and as if he did a week’s labor in one day, exhausted. He wraps the full sleeve shawl collar Kimono robe around his body, tying as he dries his hair with the small cotton fabric. His stomach growled as he squirmed at the sound pleading for him to eat. A knock comes at the door,

“Yes?”

“We brought a change of cloth,” a voice comes from behind the door, it was one of the servants he sent out.

“I’m finished,” he replies, “You may come in.”

The door opens as the two female servants walk in, they froze gawking at him, mouth wide open and eyes wide, shocked, stunned and mesmerized. Jimin stares at him, wondering why they were staring at him?

“What is it?”

“Um-apologies-it-if I may-?” stutters one of the servants, Jimin gives her a nod. A soft giggle escapes before gathering her thoughts, “Master, you are truly beautiful, you’re glowing brighter than a chest of gold underneath the sun.”

Jimin chuckles, feeling shy at the sudden compliment despite hearing such compliments all his life.

“It’s the water but thanks you,” he says, “The clothe.”

“Apologizes,” she says, head lowered she walks towards him and places them at the designated place.

“Thank you,” says Jimin, watching them as they walk out and close the door behind them, giggling when in safe distant. Jimin chuckles, shaking his head as he unties the rob to get dressed.

Jimin makes his way to the eatery area where everyone was gathered, trying not to make eye contact with Tzuyu, who as always sat in a way to show her rank above them.

“Are you not going to greet us?” she says.

Jimin scoffs, finding a place towards the back to sit, as soon as he sits down, he was served with food, his stomach growled louder at the sight of it. A bowl of kimchi stew boiled with chunks of pork, a bowl of rice sautéed with vegetables, an egg, and toasted seaweed flakes and sesame seeds on top.

He watches them as he eats, he was curious to know what the girls spoke about, there were not any other male concubine residing at the mansion, the only other two male concubines each had their own mansion with house servants, their ranked high in authority.

“May I?”

Jimin glances up and sees the concubine with light brown hair who asked him to tell his story yesterday.

“Are you not afraid of making enemies?”

She chuckles, “Lady Tzuyu ranks higher than us, but she still has to answer to Consort Kyung-Hwa, so I’m not afraid of her, but friendship is better for everyone in the Haram,” she says quietly.

“You are close to the Consort of the King?”

She smiles, “You have such a healthy glow, you are so pretty beyond words.”

Jimin sighs, “Beauty is a fleeting thing,” he says, softly, his voice trailing off, lost in thoughts, “If it were my choice, I would rather be ugly.”

“Don’t we all,” she says. “I’m Nyang.”

Jimin glances at her, “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” she says, “Others find it strange.

“People often find things that are different to be strange,” he replies.

She laughs, “You have an odd way of thinking.”

The hours went by slow, as Jimin paces back and forth in his room, feeling restless. He was used to going out and running errands for his mother as soon as noon strikes. The others all had errands to do and those who did not were doing calligraphy and art. He was skilled among many things but those were not things he pictured himself doing even though he could easily master them. He had no desire to attract the King’s attention as the other concubines wish to do, vying for his attention.

He groans, frustrated he walks out of his room, heading outside towards the courtyard, he spots one of the servants heading towards the gates. He checks around for the Master Maha and quickly makes his way towards her.

“Hello,” he greets her. The girl startled, gasps, taking a step backward and bowing her head to greet him, “Where are you headed?”

“To the market town for the head chef, is something the matter?”

“No, are you need of some assistance?”

“Um…I’m honored but- “

“I’ll assist you there,” he interrupts her before she could finish, “I would like to get to know more about the palace.”

“Um-I-I.”

“It’s alright,” he says, “I give you my word.” He smiles and walks ahead before someone comes out and spots them. It seemed like everyone was busy with some type of activity and the Master of the Mansion, Maha was nowhere to be found since the morning. It was the perfect time to sneak out and get to know the place. He might need it when God grants him a different path in his fate.

A carriage was waiting outside the gates to take them into town. The carriage driver looks at him with dumbfounded stare but does not utter a word to him as the servant girl greets him. He smiles and greets her back, Jimin avoids his eyes, not wanting to draw attention and quickly climbs after the servant girl into the carriage.

Sitting across from her, she glances at him, timidly, Jimin gives her a sweet smile and she quickly lowered her gaze.

“What’s your name?”

“Yeon-Hwa,” she answers.

“It’s a pleasure Yeon-Hwa,” he says.

The ride to the royal market town, Jagalchi Market was a short one. Yeon-Hwa pays the carriage driver, and he thanks her as she turns to him.

“I’ll follow.”

The market place was crowded and loud, shop owners screamed out offers on the top of their voices to attract customers, children wailed for their mother into the distances and laughter. The sun mercilessly shone down upon the market filling the market with a salty odor of sweat mingled with the sweet smell of bread baking, nose tingling sensation, and aroma of spices and beautifully scented flowers from the florist's shop. Jimin inhales deeply the place brought back fond memories and he felt sad, remembering all the times he went with his siblings to the market. 

Eyes wandering, they slipped into a crowd without notice, separating. Jimin looks around searching for Yeon-Hwa but it was impossible to move through the crowd, being careful not to push or shove anyone, he made his way through the crowd, on the other side. Stunned, he stops, as people hollered, clapping and cheering, with music playing, Jimin turns around and realizes there was a performance happening. In the middle of the crowd was a guy, dressed in a blue intricate, lace shirt, tucked in his black pants, with a white mask, with two winged horses, floral motif, and decadent jewels, standing on top of a tightrope, facing the crowd, only his lips and eyes exposed. He was reciting poetry while walking along with the beat of the drums on the rope.

“The moon, over the ancient fortress arose. Atop the thatched roof, a gourd.” His voice had a lilt, an unfamiliar accent, his words soft with a smile.

 Jimin was fascinated, Jaesong market place was small, they had performed, but he never watched any since he was part of the performers himself. And all the other performers were as elegant as the guy on the tightrope. Unable to take his eyes off him, he gazes at him, attentively listening to the poem, recalling it, he knew it very well, the words of Chong Chi-Yong, a famous poet. Jimin couldn’t help but wonder why he chose to recite a poem about a landscape.

With no intent, the masked performer catches his gaze and comes to a stop. Jimin looks around and back at him, realizing that the masked performer was looking at him. Their gaze lasted a full second, enough to send chills down his spine but it was a different kind of chill, it made his heart beat quicken and the world paused. Everything is frozen except the two of them but the gaze was quickly broken by the shouts of the loud chatters of the audience, waiting for him to continue with the act, growing restless.

“Atop the thatched roof, a gourd…um,” he says, coming back from where ever his mind took, unable to remember the words. His gaze returns back to Jimin, more intense than the first one, but quickly lowers it, turning his attention back to the complaining audiences.

Maybe I should help him?

Jimin clears his throat, “Atop the thatched roof, a gourd. Like another moon shined brightly.” The crowd goes silent, all eyes on him. Jimin gulps, afraid of the attention on him but the laughter from the masked performer quickly diverted the attention away from him.

“Yes!” he exclaims, “As another moon shined brightly. One day in the village, a chaste widow wrapped her neck in a night of death,” the pace of the drums intensify as the guy jumps, does a flip in the air, and lands perfectly on his feet, making the crowd roar and clap.

“Yet another night like this.”

Jimin chuckles as all the audience filled the air with screams and the masked performer bows down, glancing at him. Jimin’s blushes, surprised at the suddenness of it, he shakes it off and turns around, walking away. Making his way through the crowd to look for Yeon-Hwa, in hopes she did not leave him behind, he would surely get lost.

As he walks around, walking past the shops, the screams of the crowd were getting faint.

“Excuse me,” a voice came from behind him with a tap on his shoulders. Startled, Jimin screams and jumps, quickly turning around and losing his footing but someone grabbed his wrist before he fell, pulling him forward, and steading his feet, locking eyes with the guy standing in front of him. He was handsome, with fair skin, light brown hair and large dark brown doe eyes with a gentle expression, his eyes sparkled. Jimin exhales softly, as his heart pounded against his chest, and his stomach danced with sensation, as he lowers to the hand gripping his wrist.

“Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear,” mutters the guy underneath his breath but loud enough for Jimin to hear him, though not sure what those words mean. He gasps, recognizing the lilt, the accent, it is the same as the masked performer. But why-

 “Ow!” The guy’s grip tightens, squeezing his wrist, and interrupting his thoughts.

“Apologizes,” he says, quickly, as he lets go of his wrist, “I have frightened you.”

Jimin stares at him, rubbing his wrist, the guy laughs nervously as he stares back at him. He really is handsome. Jimin caresses his necklace to ease the pressure and pounding in his chest.

Why is my heart beating so fast?