His languid form rests on the velvety expanse of a scarlet chaise lounge that is deftly placed by the opened balcony, but Jimin does not spare a look to the splendid morning view the royal gardens offer. While winged creatures vocalize the tune of nature and droplets of golden mist get caught in a labyrinth of foliage, the prince’s mind is most conveniently distracted by the contents of the book he is reading. 

Caught in the grasp of his thumb and index finger, a white lily twirls around itself again and again as he drinks word after word like a parched man, letting his eyes rake over the ravishing verses of a poem, sometimes doing so twice if he finds their rhyme especially irresistible. 

There is a knock at his chamber's door that he absolutely refuses to pay attention to, but finds himself forced to answer when the recurrence of the knocking becomes an insistent annoyance. The door opens to reveal his visitor, and he looks up to find it is Namjoon who greets him, with a great deal of unnecessary courtesy, before closing the door behind himself and walking towards him with several decisive strides and a stoic gaze. 

Jimin lifts a curious brow. "How unusual of you to come here uninvited, Namjoon, but I do not complain.”

Although imperceptible to the untrained eye, the guard appears restless. “My apologies for disturbing your reading session, your highness. Do you find my intrusion inconvenient?"

"No, of course not,” he shakes his head lightly, an amused smile on his lips, “After all, yours has always been one of my preferred companies.” His hands close the book tucking away its tantalizing contents, and he acquires a firmer position on the chaise, choosing this moment of interruption to glance at the outer world. “Is it not a pleasant morning? There is hardly a cloud in the sky,” he sings nonchalantly, fingers toying with the poor little flower in his grasp. Then, he fixes his gaze on Namjoon, who stands there in all solemnity and rigor. "I have not been in such agreeable spirits for days, but you, my dear Namjoon, are in grave danger of becoming the ruin of my mood. You look dreadfully serious today, and I cannot stand it. Will you tell me what causes you to frown so?"

"Yes, it is precisely the sole motive of my coming here, your highness. As you well know," he makes a point of lowering his voice to a whisper, "I was instructed to keep his arrival at the dungeons from being known, but I fear I cannot maintain the truth concealed much longer. Three days have passed, and while it is a given that servants are too afraid to say a thing, my men are different. They are beginning to notice something is off, and it is alarming, for I can be certain that some of them shall not hesitate to spread such delicate information."

“Well,” Jimin blinks slowly, impassive, “if that were to happen, I believe we could come up with some sort of arrangement. There is no need to fill your head with pointless worry, Namjoon. All men, regardless of their rank, will keep their mouth shut for a bag of gold."

The guard does not answer for a moment, and to Jimin’s experienced judgment he seems to be deep in thought, working to conjure either a complex question or an unrefined petition. At once, Namjoon’s determined glare shifts into a daring look that sharpens the corners of his eyes, "With all due respect, your highness, how long do you intend on keeping him a prisoner?"

Jimin brings the lily up to his lips and delicately blows air into its immaculate petals, making them tremble. “Forever,” he breathes out.

"My prince," Namjoon seems to stumble around the words, unsure, "I am aware it is not my place to meddle on matters such as this, but I cannot help doing so when I am so deeply affected by concern for your health. What is there to gain from doing this? Not only must it be troublesome and torturous for your mind, but keeping him locked will surely not help you, nor Taehyung, forget him as successfully as you wanted."

“There can be no doubt that I hold you in high regard, my dear Namjoon, but I cannot agree with you. I consider it the most detestable thing to allow the corruption and decaying of my honor to continue by letting such a traitor loose,” his brows knit together in aggravation at the thought of him, the flower now crushed in his fist. “Whether it brings my mind torture or not, it is of little importance. I must keep him caged like the monstrous liar he is." 

The guard appears momentarily taken aback by the sparks of fury present on his tongue, but he recovers quickly, his gaze softening. “Certainly, your honor has been terribly wounded, my prince, and I understand your wish to have it repaired by any means, but I do not think this is the most adequate path to take. I do not sympathize with Jungkook in any way, and I never will; but I believe, for your sake and Taehyung's, that you must let him go."

Despite Namjoon’s voice having a calming effect on him, the color of irritation continues to rush into his face. ”No, I cannot do such a thing. It is the path of justice, and he does not deserve any mercy."

"Indeed, he does not, but Taehyung does. He has suffered enough."

Jimin scoffs, ”Have I not suffered as much?"

"Yes, my prince, so you have, and your feelings are absolutely justified,” he tells him, his tone placating. “But if you continue feeding the sourness of your heart, in due time that is all you will become, and it shall be pitiful."

A sigh escapes him. “I feel sure it cannot be more pitiful than loving a man who prefers someone other than me, Namjoon."

He expects no reply, but to his great astonishment and delight, Namjoon gifts him a smile replete of sincere sympathy, and says, very carefully: “There is nothing pitiful about unrequited love. It is a charming pain, for it only makes one rightfully sick with a melancholy for something that never happened."

As Jimin briefly wonders where that depth of sentimentalism has come from, the intensity of the gleam in Namjoon’s eyes forces him to rest his own gaze somewhere else. He faces the balcony and speaks into the morning breeze, “What can you possibly know of unrequited love, I wonder?"

"I have been suffering from it myself,” the guard admits, and as the heavy words slip past his lips, surprise settles in. Jimin turns his head in one jerky movement to look at him, and in the complex shadows of Namjoon’s expression, he sees a reflection of himself. “I have been suffering a great amount, too great to put into words, I am afraid. It has been a while now, so I am doomed to accept a life fueled by constant longing. There may be no hope for me, but there is still some for you." 

Raw feeling is palpable in the gap of silence that ensues then, and for the first time, Jimin finds himself at a loss of words. Namjoon does not urge him, the guard’s countenance appears now unchanged, strong and serene in spite of having just let him see a glimpse of his heart. The conversation has evolved in a manner that leaves the prince feeling open and vulnerable, and when he does speak anew, he does so without thinking. “I never truly knew him. It was such a harsh blow to realize that it was not the man I fell in love with, but the idea of a man. It left me empty, longing for someone who did not even exist - a ghost with no soul. His letters have caused this, how can I ever recover if I do not make him pay for his ill deeds?”

Namjoon throws him a singular look that he fails to grasp the meaning of. “If I may be so bold, my prince, I think it is entirely at your choice whether to continue on blindly suffering, or to finally allow the cause of your distress to become a turning point, a source of strength."

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean to say is simple: if you confront him about his wrongdoings, you may find it easier to determine whether his imprisonment serves your healing accordingly or not. It is merely a suggestion, but I do hope you think upon it.”

Struck as he is by the boldness of Namjoon's suggestion, Jimin cannot come up with a proper reply. His mind vehemently revolts against the idea, but his wounded heart has a strong inclination to weigh the possibilities such an interaction would bring, and it is this peculiar duality what produces in the back of his head an itch made of a newfound perspective. Perhaps the most reasonable thing to do is to express his anger and frustrations to the one who caused them.

It is not long after Namjoon left him to the solitary company of his own thoughts that Jimin finds himself descending the uncountable steps in quest of locating the most discreet route to the palace’s dungeons, wearing a royal healer's cloak over his head to prevent his face from being seen.

The atmosphere that greets him there, though dispiriting and terrible, does not deflate his purpose. He takes off the cloak and begins to walk briskly, head held high amidst the thickness of grim misery all around him, turning a deaf ear to the dishonorable men that groan and whine for him to free them. As he finally reaches the cell in which Jungkook is said to be imprisoned, he dismisses the sturdy guard taking custody of it with a silent flick of his hand, and within seconds they are left alone. 

Inside the gruesome cell Jungkook sits, back resting against the stone wall and head tilted down in a sheer display of hopelessness. 

Jimin saunters towards the large iron bars that separate them with an air of elegant supremacy, and for a moment, he allows himself to watch the man in all his deplorable glory. His bruised, bitter heart cannot find reason against rejoicing in the wretched state Jungkook is in, handsome features now unwashed and marred by the lines of the cruelest tragedy known to man - the forced deprivation of freedom.

"I must admit I am truly shocked to find you looking so lovelorn," his sharp voice disrupts the muteness governing the place as it bounces against the stone walls, causing Jungkook to jerk his head up in both astonishment and annoyance. Jimin crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head downward to look into those darkened eyes that seem to burn with little specks of feral vexation. ”Who would have thought you capable of feeling? Certainly not me, and quite frankly, with deception being your field of expertise, one would have expected you to put on a better act."

"If you are here to torture me with your petty ridicule, I shall inform you that such frivolous acts have no effect on me,” Jungkook barks, followed by a harsh cough that denotes a dry throat.

"It is the wiser that you hold your tongue now, fool, else I am forced to remind you of your place,” he bites back, his tone domineering and his patience thin. “You must have thought it a possibility to escape the consequences of your actions, but it is your inherent immorality what has brought you to chains. Taehyung may be too naive to notice, however, it is very clear to me that a man the likes of you can never be anything but a poisonous influence to him. You are bound to mar his soul worse than you did mine, and I shall not allow it."

“Never!” Jungkook seems to take great offense on this statement, for his face twists into lines of sorrowful incredulity. He stands up with some difficulty, legs wavering as he grips the bars with too much force. “I could never harm Taehyung in any way, I had rather end my own life,” he blurts out, but the doleful pitch he uses only strikes Jimin as overly dramatic. Through the narrow gaps between the bars, Jungkook points a grubby finger at him as if to accuse him, but he seems quick to judge the gesture inappropriate and retracts it. “You are badly mistaken about me, Jimin, but I suppose you cannot be blamed for being so. I am, as you say, at fault of my own punishment, and I understand the impulsive nature of my actions has thrown you into a spiral of great pain and hunger for vengeance. Therefore, an apology is very much due, and here I shall humbly ask for your forgiveness.”

Though it cannot be denied that such impeccable diction is favorable to his character, however detestable his character may be, Jimin is not tempted to believe any of Jungkook's meticulously chosen words. "I cannot forgive you,” he spits, flat and void of emotion, earning an utterly confounded look from Jungkook, who must have expected to be forgiven forthwith. “To be fair, it is revolting enough that I ever fancied the slightest interest for you, and, for the time being, I cannot think of you without abhorrence. You have ruined me, Jungkook, you and the delightful prose of your letters have made me believe in a love that was only a delusion."

Jungkook nods in weary understanding. ”I dare say you are clever enough to realize such infatuation of yours was not entirely my doing, for it was only encouraged by the combination of a lonely nature and a rich imagination.” At such implications, Jimin feels his pride wronged and he readies his mouth to argue, but before he can do so, Jungkook continues, “I will admit those letters have caused us to become awfully tangled in a misunderstanding of which I could find no easy exit, but I believe if you had the good nature to read them again, you should notice the lack of affection in them."

“That I cannot do. I burned them all,” Jimin viciously admits, and upon seeing no emotion at all emerging on Jungkook’s face, he throws him a condescending look. "You are very fortunate Taehyung loves you, for had he not demonstrated such deep devotion for you, I would have had you prosecuted long ago."

And no sooner has Jimin mentioned the name of the lover than all dullness vanishes from Jungkook’s eyes, the lethargy in them promptly replaced by the dreamy light of yearning. ”You must allow me to see him, Jimin, please. I beg of you."

"Cease your begging at this instant. It is tedious and it will not do,” Jimin rasps under the pretense of not being currently swayed into consideration, his mind and heart at war. He regrets the question even before he formulates it. “Do you truly love him?"

Stupefaction flashes in those dark eyes for a moment, and the man bleeds passion when he speaks. "I am afraid I cannot successfully put into words how much I love him, for such thing has become unmeasurable to this day. From the moment I met him, I was dominated by a strange surge of vivacity that only seemed to escalate with each limited moment we spent together, and now I feel as if every breath I take apart from him pushes me further to my own demise.”

"That is all very well, very poetic," he says, feeling the unavoidable need to change the subject, "but do be honest. Do you repent at all? Do you feel any remorse from the pain you have caused me?"

"I would be lying if I said that I do not repent for what I have done, because I do to some extent, however, I do not think the guilt that taints my heart is large enough to satisfy you.”

»»————««

Trembling hands place the gold-rimmed teapot back on the serving tray with perhaps too much urgency. "Will there be anything else I can do for you?", the question rushes out of his mouth also, mostly out of habit, but in its urgent formulation his primitive urge to bolt out of the chamber plays a huge role.

The clock ticks away with a steady rhythm, and Taehyung faces the large wooden door, prey of an overflowing anxiousness. Jimin has not personally requested of him ever since poor Jungkook was unjustly taken to the dungeons, and as it stands, he cannot begin to imagine the reasoning behind the prince’s sudden demand to be served tea by him in particular.

"No," Jimin finally answers behind him, and Taehyung manages to silence a notorious sigh of relief, but he has not taken two steps towards the door when that melodious voice fills his ears again, making him halt. “Actually, yes, there is something else. Come, sit with me."

Hoping this new request does not appertain to Jungkook’s punishment, for he does not think he could bear to know whatever barbarity that is about, Taehyung dries his sweaty palms on the front of his robes and turns around, coming to sit down on the edge of the luxurious bed without delay. Though he does endeavor to keep his gaze focused on the boring marble floors, out of the corner of his eye he cannot help observing how Jimin shuffles closer to him and crosses his legs, not caring if these movements crumple the delicate fabric of the teal nightgown he is wearing. 

“Tae,” he whispers, exhibiting an insecure caution so very unlike him, “Will you look at me?” 

The tenderness in which such a question is uttered shakes him into absolute astonishment, a feeling that is greatly augmented by the overall softness he finds on Jimin’s countenance when he rises his head to look at him. Taehyung cannot be sure, but he suspects the unreadable expression present in Jimin’s eyes is the result of a remorseful heart.

The apricot-colored sunset darkens the room and bathes the furniture with an intimate gleam that reflects beautifully on their clothing and the ends of their hair. Jimin seems to watch him closely for a moment, but for some unknown reason his gaze drops, and he lets out a shaky sigh. “I am aware that I have been terribly cruel to you, Tae, and I am so very ashamed of myself,” his wavering voice finally breaks, and Taehyung does not have the heart to let him continue.

“Jimin, we both spoke to each other in such uncivil terms and said regrettable things on that evening,” he says softly, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. ”I am certain that I was as much at fault as you were, but we shall not discuss this matter any further. It is now in the past."

Jimin shakes his head. “No, do not comfort me," he entreats him with gracious firmness, taking Taehyung's hand in between his and squeezing. He bites his lip in an evident effort to keep himself from crying, looking so openly vulnerable that Taehyung feels his own eyes water. "Allow me to apologize for my lashing out on you, because you did not at all deserve the harsh treatment that was so wrongly thrown upon you. I pretended not to see the hurt in your eyes and acted most conceited and cruel, and there can be nothing I shall regret with more fervor in my entire life than what I said to you then.”

Blinking back tears, Taehyung endeavors to keep his voice steady. “You do not have to bear all the blame of the world on your shoulders, Jimin. Yes, I was indeed wounded because your words brought me to believe that I was the creature you hated most, but later on, I understood that you were badly heartbroken and alone, and I forgave you.”

“You are too lenient on me," he smiles warmly, his cherubic little face illuminated by the unmistakable glimmer of alleviation, and he adds, "Please, know that I bear you no ill will.”

Shocked disbelief paints a frown on Taehyung's forehead. “But how can you not? You deposited your trust on me, and I kept the truth from you.”

“Nonsense," he answers with the wave of a dismissing hand, and what he says next shocks Taehyung further. "I have accepted what happened between you two, Tae, and he, ever the perfect gentleman, has properly apologized to me. However, I still cannot feel any sympathy for him, and I must clarify that if I have concealed from my parents his arrival at the dungeons, it was only for your sake, not his.”

“Oh, Jimin, I am delighted to hear you say that,” he replies candidly, cheeks in a glow, “I have always felt it in my heart that you would come to understand.”

“It will never cease to amaze me how disastrously naive you are," Jimin teases him with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, "I am not as good as you make me.”

“You are, but I suppose it takes longer to see one's own goodness."

They share a little laugh, help themselves to some chamomile tea, and end up discussing far more idle matters. Taehyung cannot feel more at ease in the vast pleasantness of their conversation, and sooner than he expects it time has come for them to bid each other good night.

“I am certain no one has ever understood me quite as you have," Jimin suddenly confesses, and there is that gleam of painful honesty in his eyes again. "I do not wish to lose you, but my wish for you to be happy is by far the strongest, and though it pains me to say it, you would never achieve true happiness here.”

“Jimin?" Taehyung gives him a quizzical look, "What does this mean?”

“It means that you are free to go," his smile is rather sorrowful, and Taehyung's eyes widen. "I have already made the necessary arrangements for your departure, and you may begin to pack your belongings whenever you wish.”

The sweet bubbling sensation that takes over his stomach at what those words could possibly imply does not prevent him from being stuck in temporary disorientation. “But I have nowhere else to go.”

“You do," he sighs, "I let Jungkook go, Tae." At this, Taehyung gasps, bringing a quivering hand to cover his mouth. "He is as free as a dove, and he awaits for you, probably wearing that insolent smile on his bastard face.”

Tears of the most unfathomable joy well up in his eyes, and without thinking he flings his arms around Jimin, enveloping him in the tightest embrace. “Thank you," he mumbles, again and again.