Royally Yours (Jikook AU📱📲)

11

The morning light had barely settled over the Adriana Palace when the commotion began. Servants moved like a river around Jungkook, each with a task of extreme importance. One adjusted the folds of his ceremonial robes, another polished the gold embellishments on his cuffs, while a jeweler meticulously set sparkling gemstones on his collar and rings. Perfume, scented oils, and hair attendants hovered around him, their movements precise and careful, as if one misstep could ruin the prince’s appearance.

“Your royal highness, the robes must sit perfectly,” said an older attendant, adjusting the heavy silk on Jungkook’s shoulders. “The emperor will not forgive a wrinkle.”

Jungkook let out a long, heavy sigh, letting his eyes wander to the distant window. Outside, the city seemed to glow with excitement, alive with the people and sounds of the grand celebration. Yet here, in the gilded room of his own palace, he felt trapped.

“Perhaps loosen the collar a little, my lord,” he murmured, feeling the golden chain around his neck digging into his skin. But no one moved. Every servant’s eyes were on him, waiting for approval.

One of the jewelers tapped a tray of sparkling pieces, arranging rings, bracelets, and necklaces. “Would you like the emeralds or rubies, Your Highness? The crowd will admire whichever you wear.”

Jungkook’s gaze fell on his reflection in the mirror. He saw a perfect crown prince: immaculate robes, polished shoes, every strand of hair in place, sparkling jewelry reflecting the light like stars. But he didn’t recognize the person in the mirror. He felt suffocated, like a bird trapped in a gilded cage, and the weight of expectations pressed down on his chest.

Just then, the doors opened, and the emperor entered. His presence was commanding, every movement calculated to reflect authority and dignity. He glanced at Jungkook, nodding briefly.

“Jeon Jungkook,” the emperor said, his voice formal but tinged with expectation, “today is Seoulvenia’s centennial. You will represent our house with dignity. You will speak to the nobles, greet our citizens, and ensure the empire’s honor is reflected in your comportment.”

Jungkook swallowed, feeling the tightness in his throat. “Yes, father,” he said softly, his voice barely audible.

“You are the crown prince,” the emperor continued, walking closer. “The people will watch your every move. The empire depends on you—your behavior, your presence, your very image. Do not disappoint.”

Jungkook nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek. He wanted to speak, to tell his father that none of it mattered, that no jewels, no silk, no applause could fill the void in his chest. But the words caught in his throat. Here, there was no space for rebellion, no room for weakness. He was a crown prince, expected to shine—even when all he wanted was to disappear.

A servant draped the final layer of silk over his shoulders. “Your Highness, the ceremonial robes are ready. The crown awaits.”

Jungkook glanced at the crown, its gold and gemstones blinding under the morning sun. He lifted it hesitantly, feeling its weight. The symbol of his authority felt heavier than ever. And beneath it all, the emptiness in his heart reminded him that the one person who truly mattered—his mother—wasn’t here to see him wear it.

“Your Highness,” the emperor said, watching him struggle with the crown, “remember the words of your mother. Behave with honor, and serve the empire as she would have wanted.”

Jungkook froze, the sharp pang of memory cutting through him. Mother… The word was heavy on his tongue. He didn’t reply, only lowered the crown onto his head, letting it settle like a weight of gold and duty.