His Shadow

Epilogue

The ministers droned on, their voices blending into a dull hum. King Taehyung sat on his throne, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest. His patience was wearing thin.

Then, the heavy doors burst open. The sudden intrusion sent a ripple of unease through the room. A guard rushed in, his breathing uneven, sweat glistening on his forehead.

"Your Majesty!" he gasped, dropping to one knee.

"Prince Jungkook—he's missing!"

The chamber fell silent. Taehyung's fingers, which had been idly tapping, stilled. His jaw tightened.

"Missing?" His voice was calm, but the weight behind it made the guard flinch.

"We were escorting him to the gardens, as per your orders, but when we turned around—he was gone. There was no sign of him anywhere."

The already tense atmosphere thickened, the weight of the king's silence pressing down on everyone in the room. Taehyung's grip on the armrest tightened until his knuckles turned white.

One of the older ministers exhaled loudly, shifting in his seat.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect," he said, his tone dismissive, "the prince has always been reckless. Surely, this isn't something to be so concerned about. His Highness is known for his childish antics—"

The scrape of wood against stone was deafening. Taehyung had pushed his chair back, standing slowly. The movement was unhurried, yet it sent a wave of unease through the room. Every eye was on him.

The minister's words died in his throat when Taehyung turned to him, his gaze like ice—cold, sharp, and utterly unforgiving.

"Say that again." His voice was low, steady, and far more terrifying than if he had yelled.

The minister swallowed hard. His hands trembled slightly as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. But he knew better than to speak.

Taehyung took a step forward, closing the distance between them. The firelight from the torches cast harsh shadows on his face, making his sharp features look even more menacing. He didn't have to say anything else—the sheer weight of his presence alone was suffocating.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, his voice laced with quiet contempt.

He turned away sharply, his black and gold robes billowing as he strode toward the doors. His voice was cold and commanding as he spoke to the guards.

"Seal the palace. No one leaves or enters until he is found. Search every corridor, every hidden passage. If he is not back in front of me soon—" he glanced over his shoulder, his expression dark, "I will make sure someone pays for this."

Without another word, he disappeared into the halls, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't care for protocol. He didn't care for consequences. Jungkook was missing.

And Taehyung would burn the whole kingdom down before he let anything happen to him.

The palace was in complete disarray. Servants scurried out of the way, guards stiffened under Taehyung's sharp glare, and even the ministers who usually had something to say remained silent as the king stormed through the corridors.

"Have you found him?" Taehyung barked at the guards near the west wing.

"No sign of him yet, Your Majesty," one of them stammered.

Taehyung exhaled sharply, his patience dangerously thin. His fingers curled into fists, his heartbeat pounding with frustration. He had searched everywhere—the gardens, the library, their chambers. Jungkook was nowhere to be found.