THE CONCUBINE || TAEKOOK ||

FORTY SIX

The days had grown long and heavy.

The Kang clan's rejection of the treaty had arrived on a grey morning, carried by a messenger who did not meet the king's eyes. Jungkook had read the letter in silence, his face growing darker with each line, his hands tightening on the paper until it crumpled in his grip.

Your proposal is rejected, the letter said. The Kang kingdom does not make peace with those who cannot defend their own borders. We will come when we wish. We will take what we want. And there is nothing you can do to stop us.

Jungkook had read the words three times, and each time they burned deeper.

Now, weeks later, the fury had cooled into something harder, something colder. He spent his days at the training grounds, drilling the soldiers who had survived the northern war, training the recruits who had come to replace the fallen. He spent his nights in the officials' offices, studying maps, reviewing reports, calculating the cost of a war he did not want and could not afford.

He returned to the palace late, when the corridors were dark and the servants had gone to bed. Sometimes he fell asleep in his own chambers, too exhausted to move, telling himself that he did not want to disturb Taehyung's rest. Other times he slipped into their bed in the darkness, careful not to wake him, lying still and silent beside the man he loved, listening to the soft rhythm of his breathing until sleep finally came.

He did not know that Taehyung lay awake beside him, waiting. That Taehyung felt the distance growing between them.

---

The Royal Library — Afternoon

Taehyung sat by the window, a book open in his lap, his eyes fixed on the garden below. The summer flowers were in full bloom now roses and peonies, lilies and orchids but he did not see them. He was thinking of Jungkook, of the dark circles under his eyes, of the way he smiled when he thought Taehyung was not looking.

"You are staring at nothing again."

Taehyung looked up. Jimin stood in the doorway, a tray of tea in his hands, his face creased with the particular expression of concern he had worn for weeks.

"I am thinking," Taehyung said.

Jimin crossed the room, set the tray on the table, and poured two cups of tea. "About the king?"

Taehyung took the cup, wrapping his hands around its warmth. "About everything."

Jimin sat across from him, his eyes steady. "He is doing what he must. The Kang clan's threat is real. He cannot ignore it."

"I know." Taehyung looked down at the tea, at the steam rising from its surface. "I know he is doing what he must. I know the kingdom needs him. I know—" He stopped, his throat tight. "I know he loves me. I have never doubted that. But sometimes sometimes I wonder if there will ever be a time when the kingdom does not need him. When he can be just... Jungkook. Not the king. Not the general. Just the man I fell in love with."

Jimin was quiet for a long moment. Then he set down his cup and leaned forward.

"There is something I have never told you," he said. "Something I think you should know."