I sighed as I looked out the window of my room. The palace grounds were bustling with life - servants scurried about their daily tasks, courtiers gossiped in hushed whispers, and the occasional nobleman or noblewoman would arrive on horseback or in a carriage.
Today, it was even busier than usual. The townspeople had been informed of my "25th birthday" and had come to the palace to wish me well. But my birthday was the last thing on my mind.
I looked at my reflection in the window glass. A young man stared back at me - tall, lean, with a handsome face framed my dark hair. But my most striking feature was the black and golden pearls mask I wore. As the heir to the Kim family, I could not show my face to anyone - my father had made that clear. Only he, my mother, and my most trusted confidantes knew what I actually looked like...
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The door to my room opened, and my valet Namjoon entered. He was a tall, serious man with a hawk-like nose and a perpetually somber expression.
"My lord," he said, bowing low. "It is time for your birthday celebration."
I rolled my eyes under my mask. I appreciated Namjoon's efforts to maintain formality, but I was tired of being treated like royalty all the time. I was a person underneath all this finery.
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*KIM NAMJOON AGE 28 VALET MORE LIKE A BROTHER TO HIM*
"Namjoon," I said, "please, drop the formalities. We're alone in my chambers."
Namjoon nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "As you wish, Taehyung-ah."
He walked over to my closet and began pulling out my formal attire for the celebration.
"You know, Namjoon," I said as I walked over to the mirror. "I hate my birthday."
Namjoon looked up from the clothes he was laying out on the bed. He wasn't surprised, he know very well why he don't like his birthday."
"The endless parade of dignitaries and courtiers," I said, "the constant need to pretend to enjoy their company, the empty congratulations and false gifts. It's all just a sham, really."
