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TRAITORS?
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Murmurs resonated within the core hall where the King of the Two Confederate States of Gojoseon had requested a major audience.
The threat of war did not offer much time to pause and prospect, but only to action and be equipped for a battle. Today, all-important officials within the royal courts of Jinjoseon and Beonjoseon, accompanied by the Ohga, were assembled, and waiting for the arrival of the Supreme Dangun.
The night before the audience, Namjoon was unable to sleep, head clouded with thoughts of his younger brother and all the possible solutions he will be able to hear in the morning until the evening. Turning and tossing, reading scripts, and consuming an endless number of herbal teas, he attempted to push his anxiety away and think right, avoiding the negativity he was prone to thinking about.
During the study of his eleventh script of ancient literature, a faint ray of light and the chirping of birds in the distance pulled the male out of his worried trance, looking out of the window in his chambers and watching the sun, far in the horizon, begin to kiss the lands of Jinjoseon with its temperateness and sunlit.
The Morning Light, another name for the capital, would be painted with new colours and concepts to the King that watched the city wake up. The life it had was identical to the novel attempt at life that the morning brought, a chance to fix mistakes and make new ones at times, and Namjoon's deep brown eyes, hooded with fatigue, reflected the earnest and vivid colours of the dawn.
Hearing the morning bells, he stood up from his cushion and made his way to the gates, opening them before the servant could and meeting her flabbergasted face which immediately was veiled as her head went down in a respectful bow, hands extended and holding the dark amber robe which was specified for major audiences of the King.
"Good morning, your majesty," she greeted him, head still low, waiting for his approval to raise it.
"Good morning," he replied, taking a step back as she gazed up at him before walking into his chambers to assist him per usual.
He watched her carefully place the robes on a small cabinet by his bed, pulling out a plain white underrobe that he would wear instead of the nightrobe, her fingers shaking and eyes anywhere but on his face. Without thinking further, he gently placed his heavy hand on her fragile shoulder, making her stop and look up at him, concern in her eyes, "your majesty?" She asked, voice almost breaking.
"You are free from your duties today," Namjoon stated, "while I am at the audience, you may take a rest,"
She visibly gulped and felt his hand drop from her shoulder, "Nu Min already gave me duties," she dared to whisper, prepared for the possible adverse outcome but to her further surprise, the King only raised his brow.
