"Life is about give and take; you know this better than anyone; the deal is clear, either you take an in, or war it shall be.
"It's indeed give and take, so why do I feel like the only one who gives without receiving anything in return?"
"Because th...
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Between our choices and what life forces us to do is a vast distance; metric oceans stretching on a planet without land, only waters that drown righteousness and float injustice and terrible deeds.
Choices are a luxury more often than not, hard to afford; they drain the heart before pockets with regret and reprimand; the right to choose is an indomitable power, and not everyone can wear the crown of such an empire; not everyone can be the king, the ruler.
And Taehyung was no king; could afford no saying when a regent more potent than him paved the way he was forced to tread.
In this kingdom, life is the queen, and destiny is the king. Taehyung was a mere peasant in the fortress, a pawn on their chessboard.
He had no choice, be it in putting you in this situation or the consequences of what brought you to where you've ended.
"Seems like you got the wrong idea; you're not the owner; I'm stepping aside and letting you manage only because of the electoral campaign; a decor, that's what you are, don't get ahead of yourself."
Taehyung definitely had no choice in what he did to you or what life forced upon him.
"I won't forget my place, Father."
He was indeed an ornament. A beautiful celadon in his father's castle, hard to break by foreign hands but easy to shatter by his old man.
Ten years ago, Taehyung dreamed of exhibiting his first art collection. He had the talent mixed with skills rarely found in modern art - they died in the era of Da Vinci and Picasso; never had the greed to own what his old man accused him of wanting to steal, but his dream dissolved into thin air, just as a midsummer breeze is smothered by the heat of the scorching season, and so he found himself in a tie and double-breasted suit, adopting a style that always failed in portraying him.
And it was when old man Kim found out about the stunts his son was pulling behind his back. He had sent him abroad, to the U.S. to be precise, to study business administration, but after not having his son by his side for a year, paternal instinct kicked in and drove him to pay a visit to the pupil of his eyes, only to find that their Los Angeles home had not hosted any guests for years, let alone the few days of absence he had granted in doubt to account for the emptiness of the residence.
Taehyung did, in fact, take a plane to Los Angelos. The only variant is that he took another one immediately after landing and flew across the Atlantic to Paris, the city of art.
His application to La Sorbonne had been accepted, but he knew that the application of approval he had submitted to his father would never be accepted, so he took matters into his own hands and made his choice.
And that became the last time he made a choice of his own.
What happens to a peasant when he disobeys the king's orders is well known, but what happens to a prince when he disobeys the king is left to the imagination and wild chimera of every ruler.
