Forced Vows,true Love ||top Tae

4

The grand hall of Liancheng seemed to stretch endlessly, the grandeur of the palace competing with the vivid splendor of the festival around them. The flickering lanterns bathed the room in golden light, casting a dreamlike glow over the revelry. Taehyung stood at the entrance, his presence commanding the attention of those around him. His gaze swept over the room, the faces of the nobles, the dancers, the musicians—all of them looking at him as the heir to Utopia, the prince who would one day carry the weight of an entire kingdom on his shoulders.

But his thoughts were elsewhere. His mind kept returning to the figure across the room—the one whose quiet composure stood in stark contrast to the boisterous energy of the festival. Jungkook, dressed in robes of royal purple, was standing near a large pillar, watching the festivities with an almost detached air, as if he was present but not truly of this world. His movements were graceful, as though the weight of his title, his position, held no sway over him.

Taehyung’s eyes lingered on Jungkook for a moment longer than he intended, drawn to the stillness that radiated from him. There was something about him—something that made Taehyung’s chest tighten, something that stirred the quiet part of him he kept locked away. It wasn’t just his beauty, though that was undeniable. It was the air of mystery that surrounded him, the feeling that there was more beneath the surface, something real, something untouched by the world around them.

As he walked deeper into the hall, his attention was pulled away by the cacophony of noise and movement. He greeted the nobles and dignitaries, exchanged pleasantries, and listened to their eager praises, but his thoughts remained distant. Every smile felt like a mask, every handshake a formality. The deeper he went into the festival, the more disconnected he became from the world around him.

His wolf, Van, stirred restlessly within him, as if sensing the same unease that Taehyung felt. The festival, the people, the expectations—it all felt suffocating. There was a strange pull in the air, something he couldn’t name, and yet it felt as if it was drawing him toward Jungkook, whose figure remained in the periphery of his vision.

Taehyung’s steps faltered for a moment as he passed a cluster of guests laughing and chatting animatedly. He caught a glimpse of Jungkook once more, standing at the edge of the crowd, his posture straight but unhurried, as if he existed in a world apart from the one that thrived around him. There was a quiet strength in the way Jungkook held himself—an understated power that neither shouted nor demanded attention.

It was that same stillness that unsettled Taehyung, something so different from his own restless energy. Taehyung was a man defined by duty and bloodshed, a man who lived in the chaos of war and the weight of responsibility. Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed to exist beyond those concerns, his own world untouched by the burdens that Taehyung carried.

And yet, there was something familiar in the way Jungkook seemed to withdraw from the festivities, a quiet rebellion against the expectations thrust upon him. It was a feeling Taehyung knew all too well.

The murmur of voices grew louder, the night unfolding in a blur of faces and sounds. Taehyung moved further into the room, his gaze inadvertently drifting back to Jungkook, whose eyes were now focused on the dancers twirling in the center of the hall. There was a grace to his movements, even in his stillness. He was like a stone in a river—seemingly unaffected, but steady, enduring.

As the night wore on, Taehyung found himself surrounded by more and more people, their conversations blending into a hum of indistinct chatter. Despite the warmth of the room, he felt cold, as though something was missing—something he couldn’t name.

But then, as the first wave of the evening’s festivities began to settle, a strange tug pulled at his chest once more. Taehyung turned, his eyes locking onto Jungkook’s form in the distance, standing by the pillar with his gaze still fixed on the dancers. For a fleeting moment, it felt as if the world had narrowed to just the two of them—Taehyung, with his mask of indifference, and Jungkook, whose quiet strength pulled at something deep within him.

For the first time that night, Taehyung allowed himself to feel the weight of something other than duty. But even as the thought lingered, he pushed it aside, steeling himself once more for what he knew was expected of him. He was a prince, and this festival, this night—it was just another step along the path laid out for him by others. He couldn’t afford to forget that, not yet.

And so, as the festival continued to unfold around him, Taehyung stood apart, a silent observer, the weight of his family’s expectations pressing down on him once again, as he kept his gaze just a little too long on Jungkook, knowing that there was something—something more—that waited just beyond the horizon.