THE CONCUBINE || TAEKOOK ||

FORTY SEVEN

The King's Study — Morning After the Parade

The parade had ended late the night before, the streets of the capital still littered with petals and the echoes of cheering crowds. The palace had settled into an exhausted silence, the servants moving slowly through their duties, the courtiers resting after the long day of celebration.

But Jungkook was not resting.

He sat in the high-backed chair by the window, his chin resting on his hand, his gaze fixed on the garden below. From here, he could see everything the winding paths, the pond where koi fish drifted beneath the water's surface, and there, near the new pavilion that was being built for the summer festivals, was Taehyung himself.

He was standing among a group of workers, his hands moving as he directed them, his face animated, his voice carrying faintly through the glass. He was ordering them around, pointing at a misplaced beam, correcting the angle of a support pillar, and Jungkook found himself smiling despite the weight on his mind.

He is beautiful when he commands, Jungkook thought. He does not even know how beautiful he is.

But the smile faded as his thoughts drifted back to the previous day. To his mother's voice, light and conversational, saying a name that had made Taehyung flinch.

Bogum.

He had heard that name before. He was certain of it. Somewhere, in the months before the war, in the days when he was preparing to leave, he had heard it whispered. He had not thought about it then there had been too much else to think about. But now, in the quiet of the morning, the name echoed in his mind.

Who is he? Jungkook murmured under his breath, watching Taehyung laugh at something one of the workers said. What is he to you?

"What did you say?"

Jungkook's head snapped around. Jimin sat across from him at the low table, a stack of papers spread before him, his brush poised over an inkstone. He was looking at Jungkook with a curious expression, one eyebrow raised.

"Nothing," Jungkook said quickly, reaching for a brush, a blank sheet of paper, anything to look occupied. "I was just... thinking aloud."

Jimin's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, returning to his work. Jungkook stared at the blank paper before him, his mind still churning. He should sketch something. He should write something. There were a hundred things he should be doing reviewing reports, planning for the harvest festival, preparing for the diplomatic missions.

But all he could think about was the name. Bogum.

He picked up his brush, dipped it in the ink, and began to sketch. The lines formed quickly, almost without his conscious direction a face, a figure, the outline of someone he had never seen but could not stop thinking about. A man with dark hair and kind eyes. A man who might be a threat, or might be nothing at all.

A knock at the door.

Jimin rose, crossing to the door, speaking quietly with the guard who waited outside. Jungkook looked up, watching as a letter was passed through, as Jimin's face tightened with something that might have been concern.

The door closed. Jimin returned to the table and held out the letter.

"You should read this," he said.