Royally Yours (Jikook AU📱📲)

4

Jungkook immediately got up to check Namjoon's message.
He had just begun to relax, but seeing the name Kim Namjoon Hyung glowing on the screen pulled a small laugh out of him.

Namjoon-hyung: "Seoulvenia Day is in three weeks. I hope you haven't forgotten again."
Namjoon-hyung: "We'll need you at the council meeting tomorrow morning. Don't be late this time."

Jungkook grinned. Of course, Namjoon would be talking about duties again.
He quickly typed back:

Jungkook: "Hyung, you worry too much. One missed meeting won't end the empire."

Within seconds, a reply arrived.

Namjoon-hyung: "It's not about the empire collapsing, Jungkook. It's about you learning to stand where you belong."

Jungkook puffed his cheeks, rolling his eyes as he tossed the phone onto the bed and flopped backward. "Hyung's lectures are getting longer every day," he muttered with a small smile.

He didn't mean to ignore his cousin's concern. In fact, sometimes he teased Namjoon deliberately—just to hear him scold, just to feel that someone still cared enough to do so.

The screen lit again.

Namjoon-hyung: "Don't make me come to the palace to drag you out of bed. The emperor will be there too."

"Ugh," Jungkook groaned, burying his face in a pillow. "Even his texts sound responsible."

He knew Namjoon wasn't trying to annoy him. The Duke's son had always been the perfect example of what a royal should be—steady, calm, and endlessly patient. They were close, despite what outsiders whispered about them being rivals for the throne.

When they were kids, Namjoon used to protect him from strict tutors and palace punishments. Back then, Jungkook looked up to him like an older brother. He still did.

So why did every message from Namjoon now make his chest feel heavy?

He sat up, staring at the glowing phone.

Jungkook: "Hyung, you don't have to worry so much about me. You already do enough for everyone."

This time, Namjoon called instead of replying by text.
Jungkook hesitated before answering. "Hello?"

"Don't hello me," Namjoon's voice came through, calm but firm. "You promised last week you'd attend your lessons on the national address, and the historian said you didn't show up."

Jungkook chuckled softly. "I was learning something else—how to live freely."

"This isn't a joke, Jungkook."

"I know."

Silence followed, with only the faint sound of Namjoon exhaling on the other side. "You're the crown prince. The people look to you. I don't want you to waste your name."

For a moment, Jungkook didn't reply. His fingers tightened around the phone. "Sometimes I think you'd make a better prince than me, hyung."

"That's not true," Namjoon said immediately. "We both have our roles."

"Yeah," Jungkook murmured, a small, tired laugh escaping. "Yours is saving the empire. Mine is disappointing everyone."

"Jungkook—"

But the younger cut him off gently, his voice quieter now. "Don't worry, hyung. I'll be there tomorrow. Promise."

He hung up before Namjoon could answer.

Jungkook stared at the dark screen, his reflection faintly visible. "You really are too wonderful, Joonie-hyung," he whispered.

Even though his heart ached with guilt, part of him smiled.
Because deep down, Namjoon's scolding made him feel seen—not as a prince, not as an heir—but as Jungkook, the boy his cousin still believed in.

He leaned back on his bed, closing his eyes, the corners of his lips curving into a soft grin.

"Tomorrow," he whispered. "Just not today."

And with that, the Crown Prince of Seoulvenia drifted into sleep—half guilty, half grateful—while the moonlight quietly wrapped the Adriana Palace in silver.