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Later that night Jungkook sat in his room, staring at the royal pin in his hands. It glittered in the lantern light, beautiful yet foreboding. A part of him wondered if it was cursed, bringing nothing but trouble since it came into his possession.

The sound of heavy footsteps outside his door made him tense. Before he could react, the door burst open, and Daek Kyun strode in, his expression dark.

“Brother,” he said, his tone low and dangerous. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

Jungkook stood, clutching the pin tightly. “You have no right to be here.”

Daek Kyun smirked. “Oh, but I do. You’re my brother, after all. And that pin—you know it doesn’t belong to you. Give it to me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, surprising even himself with the strength in his voice. “It’s not yours to take.”

Daek Kyun’s smile vanished, replaced by cold anger. “Don’t test me, Jungkook. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

Before he could move closer, the sound of armored boots echoed down the hall. Taehyung appeared in the doorway, his sword drawn, flanked by two guards.

“You’ve overstayed your welcome, Daek Kyun,” Taehyung said, his voice a deadly calm. “Leave now, or I’ll drag you out myself.”

Daek Kyun glared at Taehyung but didn’t dare challenge him. With a final, venomous look at Jungkook, he stormed out, the guards escorting him.

As the door closed, Taehyung sheathed his sword and turned to Jungkook.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice softer now.

"Yes your Majesty " Jungkook said

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Taehyung’s eyes bored into Jungkook’s, searching for answers the omega seemed unwilling to share.

“Why are you protecting him?” Taehyung asked, his voice dipping into something softer, almost wounded. “Is it because he’s your brother? Or is it because you think I won’t protect you?”

Jungkook’s fingers tightened around the Royal Pin, the sharp edges digging into his palm. “It’s not about trust, Your Majesty. It’s about duty. Family isn’t something you abandon, no matter how flawed it is.”

Taehyung scoffed, his frustration breaking through. “Duty? Is it your duty to suffer in silence while he schemes behind your back? Do you truly think he cares for you? He only sees you as a means to an end.”

Jungkook flinched, his composure cracking for a moment before he looked away. “And you?” he whispered, so softly Taehyung almost missed it. “Do you see me as anything more than that? Or am I just another duty to you?”

The question hit Taehyung like a blow, leaving him momentarily speechless. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came. The truth, raw and unacknowledged, lingered in the air between them.

When the silence stretched too long, Jungkook stood, cradling the pin to his chest. “You don’t need to concern yourself with me or Daek Kyun. I’ll handle it.”

Taehyung’s hand shot out, gripping Jungkook’s wrist before he could walk away. “You’re not handling anything alone. Not anymore.” His tone was commanding, yet there was an edge of desperation beneath it. “I won’t allow it.”

Jungkook froze, his eyes meeting Taehyung’s. For a moment, he thought he saw something there—something unspoken and tender. But just as quickly, Taehyung let go, stepping back and straightening his posture.

“This conversation isn’t over,” Taehyung said, his voice regaining its usual coldness. “You’re my consort, Jungkook. That means you’re under my protection, whether you like it or not.”

Without another word, Taehyung turned and left the room, leaving Jungkook alone with the weight of their exchange. As the door closed behind him, Jungkook sank back into his chair, tears threatening to spill as he clutched the Royal Pin tighter.

“I don’t need protection,” he whispered to the empty room. “I just needed you.”

~~~

The next morning, Jungkook arose with a resolute calm, his tears of the previous night dried, replaced by a mask of quiet detachment. He dressed himself in a pale cream hanfu, simple yet elegant, and adorned himself with the royal pin—a symbol of his duty, not his worth.

When he entered the grand dining hall for breakfast, his steps were measured, his posture flawless. Taehyung was already there, seated at the head of the table, engrossed in a scroll. He barely glanced up when Jungkook entered.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Jungkook said politely, his tone distant yet respectful. He sat at his designated place, ensuring the space between them felt wider than ever.

Taehyung finally looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly at Jungkook’s formal demeanor. There was no warmth in his voice, no gentle smile he had sometimes seen Jungkook offer. It was as though the vibrant, hopeful soul had been replaced by a serene but impenetrable facade.

The silence between them was deafening, broken only by the clinking of utensils. Taehyung, for the first time, felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest—an ache he couldn’t quite name.

After breakfast, Jungkook excused himself and busied his day with palace duties, avoiding any interaction with Taehyung unless absolutely necessary. He spoke to the maids, visited the gardens, and even spent time teaching the palace children.

But he didn’t seek Taehyung out.

That evening, Taehyung returned to his chambers late, finding them emptier than usual. Jungkook’s faint laughter, once echoing through the halls as he interacted with the palace staff, was absent. Even Venus, his wolf, seemed restless.
Taehyung frowned, the unease in his chest growing. He thought back to the night before—the pain in Jungkook’s eyes, his whispered words.

“I’m tired of trying.”

Taehyung couldn’t shake the memory. It clung to him, unraveling something within. He had always told himself he didn’t need love, that attachments only led to pain. Yet now, as the days passed, he found himself glancing toward Jungkook, searching for the warmth that had once been directed at him.

But it was gone.

Jungkook had withdrawn into himself, fulfilling his duties flawlessly but offering nothing more. He was polite, respectful, and distant—a perfect consort in every way except the one that mattered most.

And for the first time, Taehyung felt the sting of loss.




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I thought I was only writing 30 chapters for this book, but dang, ideas keep flooding into my mind!

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