The Arrows Of Love || VMIN

A Disgruntlement

Author's note: Check out the other book for this chapter, please.

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When Helios would sit on his chariot at the break of dawn, bringing the glory of the sun on Gaia, the city of Virtine would wake up faster than anyone else.

The reddened, tender rays of day would fall on the highest of buildings, on the houses of the commoners, and the beggars on the streets. Youths would leave their homes to accomplish their dreams, and unwed maidens would spend another day polishing their charms in hope of a suitable husband.

When the morning would come, the royal palace of Virtine would stir out of sleep.

The King would be the first one to rise, aged bones habitual of seeing the blooming grace of lights on the skies of his own land, before attending his duties. The gentle Queen would give company to her husband for some languid moments, before arriving at the West wing to tend to her three children.

The First Princess of Virtine, the pleasant Misun, would be awake by then. Freshly bathed in scented water, and surrounded by her servants; one would be busy combing her long, chestnut locks, one would outline her pretty brown eyes with kohl, someone would be tying her satin peplos on her back.

The Princess would leave her seat and run to hug her mother at her sight, the Queen kissing her forehead in greeting; caressing her fair body in motherly affection.

Afterwards, the Queen would grace the room of Eunjung, the beautiful Second Princess. She, just like her older sister, would also be awakened by then, full hazel eyes skimming over an open page of a novel, brunette hair pulled in a sleep wizened braid. The mother would pepper her daughter's lovely face with kisses, urging the servants to ready her for the day.

Then, she would enter the chamber of her third child, the last and as the subjects of Virtine would call, the finest creation of her womb, the Prince.

Unlike his siblings, who had risen and were cheerful, happy to see the sun, the curtains in the Prince's room were shut tight, unattended by any of the servants, surrounded in darkness, the delicate lad was sound asleep in his bed.

The Queen smiled in fondness, walking to the drapes and pulling them to a side herself, letting the shy beams of soft brightness and birdsongs enter the room, creep on the Prince's silken covers, and illuminate itself on the youth's face.

And what a face it was!

As if, feeling offended by the audaciousness of the ocean, who had dared to borne the great Aphrodite from its foamy waves, Mother Gaia had given rise to this creation of hers, gathering all the beauties of spring and pouring them to the brim like honeyed wine in this one single, dazzling repository.

Another Aphrodite, but made of mortal flesh and blood.

"My sweet Jimin, wake up." The Queen nudged her son, cajoling the sloth body. "The sun is up, my boy. An eager crowd has gathered outside the palace, waiting for a glimpse of you since dawn. Let us not make them wait anymore, sweetheart."

The Prince squirmed on his pillows, still under the lightened influence of sleep; he sighed softly, nuzzling his mother's palm, then opened his eyes.

Maybe, calling him a gift of Gaia wasn't adequate. Maybe, Jimin was a mirror of the goddess herself, eyes such a scarce prasine it was jarring to the mind, a dizzying disparity against his rose gold skin, like sudden thunder in clear sky; but such a fine pairing with his ebony locks splattered on pillows, mimicking an artist's maladroit mistake.

"Good morning, mother."

If one was to concentrate two lovesick doves' mating call in a flute, sizzle every note with ambrosia, then make the great Apollo himself play it at the divine royal court of Olympus, even then it wouldn't be able to rival the sweetness of every simple word that came from the plush apple lips of the Prince of Virtine.