The Prince and the Pauper

Chapter Three

Dedicated to Shan and Ally-kins: without your persistence, this would literally not exist

A/N: This is a Gift!fic for two of my friends who absolutely ship this ship. AKA I'm the most casual KPOP fan to ever fan. Anyways, whether you care about that or not, thanks for clicking on this story and I hope you enjoy! :)

DISCLAIMER: None of this is real, or can even be considered factual. Just no. Don't take it seriously. 

PS. I will mostly be using their real names for this fic, I feel it's better to use it than their stage names, considering the setting. Also, any advice for improvement is appreciated. Thanks.

"The war between our kingdom and the Southern Isles began due to the decline of trade and...,"

Taehyung diligently took down the appropriate notes as the airy-haired professor lectured about the Trade War and the treaties and consequences that came after it. Taehyung bit his lip hard once he found his eyes drooping close. It wouldn't do for his father to get angry at him again.

The day that he came home late, the King was furious. He had gone of a tangent about royals mixing with the peasants and how disgraceful Taehyung's actions were recently, and how disappointed he was, and how this was the last straw and it could not be tolerated anymore. His father had turned a pale red, his eyes glowering upon his knelt form. He couldn't lift his head to meet even his feet. They had stuck to the rough, decorated tapestry that had been laid on the floor. He had returned to his room without any dinner and about five thick books of various subjects to study from. He had not been allowed to sleep until he had taken notes on all of then.

Taehyung didn't realize that it was just the beginning.

The next day, the King's scribe had sent him a roll of parchment that contained his punishment. If Taehyung's heart could have felt any heavier, it would have. He was no longer allowed outside the castle walls until the king deemed it fit. Alongside that punishment, his preparation to become King would increase three-fold, and he would perform chores with the servants until the night of his birthday to help prepare for the ball. He figured this was his father's way of mocking him for his fascination with the common life.

With a sigh, he re-focused his attention on to the professor. He was now reciting the Trade Treaty X, down to the smallest terms. Taehyung sighed again. There was no use escaping History, or any of his other classes; he couldn't disappoint his father any further.

His eyes flitted to the window from across the room. The sky was such a clear blue, he was sure that any other blue paled in comparison. The town was probably busy again- he wondered what Yoongi was doing. Perhaps he was sleeping. A mental image of a sleepy Yoongi sitting droopily upon a stool while his mother berated him. He had to stifle his laugh.

A loud thwack redirected his attention back to the lecture. With a red face, he returned back to the Trade Treaties.

********

A few days later, Taehyung was dusting the beds in one of the guest rooms. His arms ached slightly as he stretched over the canopy to dust the upper half. He had to stretch on his toes to see what he was doing- there were no more other stools to use. He didn't see the point of it- no one was likely to see it anyways. He stopped dusting and glanced at the two other servants in the room. If he remembered correctly, their names were Tae Min and Jong. They worked wordlessly, their moves synchronized, and not a moment wasted. What would it be like, Taehyung wondered, to work with someone for so long that every movement matched?

"Oi! You!" A sharp voice resounded from behind him. He turned around to see the head servant, Ji Min, approach him. A pang of fear hit him as he eyed the rather heavy bucket in his hands.