Chapter Text
"SCOURGED BY FLAME, BOUND BY OATH!"
The men stand dressed in black and red, swords held up and pointing at the statue of a mage at the far right of the open field, away from the chaos. They scream in unison, responding to their kingdom's slogan.
"HERE IS TO THE FREEDOM OF VALEBRANT!"
"TO FREEDOM!"
"FREEDOM!"
The warcry surrounds him like a warm hug of reassurance, knights marching at full speed towards the beast that continues to ruin the kingdom's barrier mercilessly.
Jeongguk relishes in it for a moment, heart singing with unbound pride and satisfaction when he watches a fellow knight successfully activate the spell.
For my dear prince and princess; for Valebrant.
Jeongguk looks up at the sky for a moment before nicking his finger with his sword. Blood spurts out but he does not wince, not even a flinch. Clutching a thin, translucent white paper with his bloodied hand, he mutters a prayer.
"Unseal the blood, obey my sound."
As if enchanted, his blood gets sucked into the paper, veins of red blooming in the previously pristine sheet. It takes a second for him to unleash the runevein but when he does, gold bursts through it, effectively blinding the dragon to be taken advantage of.
Jeongguk rushes forward without a moment to be spared, swinging his sword from his left to right to aim at the massive leg of the dragon. The dragon cries in agony, the first ever real cry of pain from the monster that they have fought for ages.
He presses forward, killing a few monsters in human form that jump at him to protect the dragon who backtracks with a deafening screech, tail smashing through several trees and the walls of the fort.
Namhui-yah, I will avenge you today.
The wind blowing the cherry blossoms from the trees that painfully grew them causes Jeongguk’s heart to ache a little. However, if the wind does not blow them, the mages will pluck them, cruelly separating the petals from one another and killing the flower slowly.
“JEONGGUK!”
The trees lining the borders of the kingdom at the base of the mountain range are a sight to behold. Mythically, they are said to hold powers of Sylphs; pure like the life-giving air and free like the enchanting waters.
As he watches the blooms fly away, rain hits him from nowhere. His skin stings wherever the water touches and he screams when the sting goes deeper towards his heart. The heart that is slowing down with each second.
The ground is shaky and disrupts his sightseeing but so is the rain that tears at the petals and soaks them until they lose their vibrance. Something gets in the way of the view again but for some reason he can not move it away.
There is something salty trickling into his mouth but he can not close his mouth either. He feels paralyzed.
Slowly it dawns on him.
He was not here to sightsee, was he?
He was here to fight; lead an army of ten thousand strong knights towards the lair of the dragon, to kill it and finally free his home from its cruelty.
Jeongguk was out for blood.
How did I end up staring at these flowers?
His thoughts come to a halt as he feels himself being lifted from the ground with ease. The flowering trees that were looming over him a minute ago are suddenly beneath his dangling feet. The wind is colder than it was before and much stronger than he has ever experienced.
What?
He wonders for a second but then passes out the next moment, eyes closing as the black spots grow bigger behind his eyes and merge with each other to create a darkness that he is ever so slightly scared of.
Broken lies the vow, to the land of the sacred lives.
Mighty sword abandoned at his feet.
Deep within the hearts, it lays hidden;
A white lie, a knight's fuel.
A truth, shrouded by the veil of embers.
⚚
The screams ricochet through the forest, disturbing the quiet of the midnights. There is blood everywhere he looks, and some more spills from his side, pain from the gaping wound not easing up even when he freezes in place to reduce any movement. He is sprawled on a boulder, overlooking a river which is tinged red and reeks of blood.
Jeongguk cries, gasping while pressing on his wounds, and calls out.
"MOTHER!"
Suddenly, the sky lights up; light blinding him for a moment before he sees a blurry figure dressed in pale green robes running towards him. He extends his right hand, while the left hand clutches harder at his side, hoping to embrace the figure.
"JEONGGUK! RUN!"
The blurry figure of the woman never reaches him; scream fading as she vanishes into thin air, leaving behind a mess of bloody twinkling dust all over the ground.
Jeongguk continues to cry, desperately dragging himself across the boulder, a trail of blood following his path. He calls out; again and again, until his throat feels like it would rip open, not being responded to.
The sky goes dark again, a lightning bolt strikes nearby, causing him to be thrown off the boulder and right into the bloody waters of the roaring river. Water fills his lungs, blocking his airways, and choking him. He flaps around, struggling to get back into the surface but nothing yields. His legs are cramping up and his lungs feel like they are about to shrivel and shrink into being nothing.
Jeongguk feels consciousness slowly leaving him, darkness growing behind his eyelids, remaining air leaving his lungs one bubble after another as he sinks deeper. The last thing he sees is a black, shadowy figure reaching out to him from above, grabbing him with bloody arms.
"HELP!"
Jeongguk wakes up with a gasped scream; right hand held out in front of him as if he is reaching out to someone. He continues to heave, his lungs struggling to gather enough air. It takes him a minute to collect himself.
Everything hurts. From his head, neck, shoulders to the very tip of his toenails. The stony walls of the room are unfamiliar and make the room look a lot bigger, like a cave due to the unpolished surface. Unexpectedly though, the room is warm, bordering on hot and Jeongguk struggles through his aches to remove the comforter covering him.
"I see, you have finally decided to wake up, huh!"
The deep voice from behind him sends him on a frenzy of movements, pained breath hissing loudly and sharply through his gritted teeth as he stumbles out of the bed, getting into a combat position.
The man walks towards him, entering into the ray of golden sunlight filtering through the huge window.
Jeongguk squints, his sight still a little blurry due to drowsiness that clings to him. The fiery blue eyes of the man with specks of gold look hungry, yet enchanting. He stares, looking the man up and down. The hair and the chiseled jaw hints at a familiar figure that Jeongguk oh so despises.
"Who are you?" He asks needing to confirm, which elicits a chuckle from the man who starts walking closer. Jeongguk backs up against the window, right hand grabbing a candle holder from the sideboard, the only item closest to being a weapon that he could get his hands on.
"Sweetheart, I wouldn't try that if I were you... "
The man drawls with a smirk; the deep voice sending a chill down his spine. Jeongguk looks around for an escape route yet all he sees is a massive window behind him with a deathdrop beyond it and a door that he could never reach if he tried.
A gentle breeze sweeps his unruly hair to his eyes and suddenly, there is a warm grip around his wrist, pressing him against the window sill. It's firm and a little too tight but not enough to hurt. He stands there, hypnotized by the fiery gaze, breath hitched, and heart thundering.
The man chuckles again, bringing up his right hand towards Jeongguk's face to trace along his jawline. The touch is soft, almost featherlike, appearing to be appreciating the lines of his face. Slender fingers run along a fringe to tuck it behind his ear.
When the fingers touch him softly below his ear, Jeongguk jolts out of his trance with a gasp. His body visibly shivers as heat rushes to his heart from the spot where the man had touched.
Within a second, he breaks free of the restraining hold and slips away from between the man and the window. With the candle holder brandished as his sword, he shuffles on his feet slowly, clearly showing that whoever approaches him will be at the mercy of the weapon.
The man does not seem to be fazed. He neither backs away nor takes a defensive stance like one would expect him to. Confidence oozes from the man's relaxed frame and Jeongguk has the hardest time not scoffing at it.
His body senses it. The danger; the immense power embodied by the man and it is familiar to Jeongguk. He recognizes it.
"Dragon... "
Jeongguk whispers it as if he is scared he would be burned by the mere mention of it.
"Ah! You have come to your senses."
⚚
18 Years ago
Royal Palace, Valebrant
“Jeongguk-ah!”
The kid runs through the buttery, giggling as he winds through the neatly arranged racks of wine bottles. The palace maid, dressed in a tattered apron chases him while calling his name, as if he would stop.
The huge glass jar hardly fits in his tiny hands, yet he runs with it; making sure the sloshing liquid does not loosen the lid, and spill over. He climbs through a narrow staircase, taking a small break to catch his breath at the last step. When he turns around to assess the situation, the maid is still chasing him with a distraught look. Whatever the liquid is, it must be of high importance, he assumes. Once the opportunity presents itself, he ducks under a table covered with a fancy satin cloth and stays there, anticipating the woman to run past.
To his absolute dismay, the Highmage stops her in front of the very table he is hiding under. He holds his breath, hoping the maid does not tell on him, but his world comes crumbling down when the jar slips out of his grip, and rolls off to stop right beside the leather boots of the Highmage.
The next moment, Jeongguk finds himself standing outside the Mage’s Hall, hands held high up in the air, as a punishment. He makes a face at the girl that walks alongside the Queen, annoying the princess enough to get her on his case. By the end of the day, Jeon Jeongguk of the Highmage’s lineage, is unanimously demoted to the position of a bodyguard.
Jeongguk cries himself to sleep at night, and trains during the day. He trains like his life is dependent on it; not to wield magic but to fight. Day and night, with barely enough time to sleep, he practices combat techniques. He is unsure if his grandfather will take him back if he achieves a rank as a guard. However, he consoles himself every morning that he wouldn’t know unless he tried.
So he trains, more and more, until his limbs move on muscle memory. Kids of his age are already taking sword fight lessons. Every day, he reminds himself of how far behind he is from his peers and refuses to rest even a minute more than what is needed for his body to stay alive.
He spends the next couple of years on the training grounds, sparring and training to be the best. However, his life takes another turn soon enough.
The first time he witnesses a horror is when his resolve changes from wanting recognition of the Highmage to protecting the royal family with his life.
The world is unfair. Jeongguk has just begun to get along with the royal family. He has trained diligently; breaking his bones learning hand-to-hand combat, tearing his muscles again and again, relentlessly practicing to wield the sword that is too long and heavy for his body.
Occasionally, the Crown Prince joins him. Sparring with him and challenging him with every move. The Princess watches the two of them spar while betting on Jeongguk just to get a rise of her brother. The three of them often sneak out to the village during festivities, getting lost amongst the crowd as the night falls, celebrating with local food and exchanging little trinkets they bought for each other.
The Queen knows of their rendezvous. She would make excuses to let the Crown Prince escape the meetings with the royal advisors, or the mandatory royal lessons. The Princess, who is two years younger than the Prince, would tag along anywhere and everywhere he would go. She would attend classes with him, sit in meetings, hold a wooden sword to spar, and sneak out of the palace dressed as a poor villager. Jeongguk is younger than them both, but that does not stop him from guarding them like a man on a mission, unwilling to let down the Queen who has looked after him like a mother.
Then, on a full moon night, Jeongguk helplessly watches as the dragon mercilessly drags the lifeless body away. The King runs behind, trying to catch up with the creature, unable to let go of his obviously dead wife.
Two years later, when Jeongguk is sixteen, he witnesses yet another horrifying incident. He witnesses the Princess tumble down the waterfall, her screams echoing through the forest each time her body smashes against a boulder hidden within the roaring river.
The Kingdom’s beloved royal family is no more. The renowned scholar Crown Prince — who would right every wrong, and the Princess — considered the goddess of luck, were gone.
He feels numb. His insides are burning with the immense anger he feels towards the monster that haunts them. However, he is unable to move; limbs bound by the magical rope that does not give in no matter how much strength he uses to tear it apart.
“I VOW MY LIFE TO KILLING YOU! YOU WILL DIE BY MY HAND!”
Jeongguk screams at the retreating figure of the humongous dragon with tears running down his bloody cheeks whilst his surroundings burn down to ashes.
They are gone. The Crown Prince and the Princess.
What purpose do I serve now?
I must bring you to ruins…
I will avenge you, my royals…
He does not register anything that follows the tragic events. Who frees him from the binding, who gets him back to the palace; Jeongguk remembers nothing other than the royals getting murdered before his eyes.
When Jeongguk finds his life's one and only purpose of protecting the royals ripped away from him, he contemplates giving up on it. He loses sanity, all sense of reality, and ends up mad; slowly losing sight of practicality, and his sense of responsibility.
Before the royals were brutally murdered right in front of his eyes, Jeongguk had considered himself immune to life's curveballs. Days after, he is numb to everything around him, occasionally crying at the memories of the painful deaths; sleeping only when his body decides to shut down.
It’s a torture…
"JEONGGUK!"
He looks up with a strange expression at the panicked voice. His mind is empty yet it feels like the thoughts never stop running and badgering him to do something.
"JEONGGUK, GET DOWN FROM THERE!"
He tilts his head, not processing much of the words being screamed at him by multiple people including the highmage who looks worried for once. Ignoring them, he continues to walk on the stonecrest. He feels like he is one step away from flying, or touching the cottony clouds that hang low enough in the sky, all ready to rain down on Valebrant.
Moments later, when the rain pours down, he decides to let go of everything. Feeling the drops dripping down from his hair, slowly wetting his clothes to chase away the warmth of his body to match the coldness in his heart, Jeongguk decides to let the darkness consume his rationality, finding it peaceful to give in to the all-consuming numbness.
His body slowly tips sideways, arms open as if embracing the cold rain.
I will be free now, right?
The relief that takes over him lasts only a few seconds as his fellow knights manage to yank him back from the stonecrest.
Sprawled on the floor, surrounded by people, Jeongguk wails. A soul-crushing scream escapes him with tears that burn his skin before being washed away by the rain. He cries and screams, unintelligible words hurled at the ones that stole his freedom away from him.
He cries, and then passes out.
“DO NOT LOOK HIM IN THE EYES!”
Jeongguk runs past the screaming villagers who are scrambling to get away from the monster that is perched amongst the burning trees. A spell-powered knife slides into his palm from within his sleeves when he pulls at the string around his wrist.
About three huge buildings away, the monster breathes shockwaves of thunderbolts to spread the devastation across the town. Jeongguk stays hidden, aware that he has to be stealthy to get close enough to stab the tail of the monster.
Screaming intensifies as he awaits the perfect moment to put his plan into action. Whilst he lies in wait, his left hand instinctively touches the pouch that he carries in his waistband. A stalk of stolen runeveins sit within, hungry for his blood, all set for a golden confrontation.
Heat from the burning foliage is stifling, and the air smells of ash and slightly of blood. Jeongguk runs his finger along the neckline as the heat gets unbearable.
His new outfit after shifting from the personal-guard position to a knight is suffocating to say the least. The shirt has full sleeves which make sure the armor sits snugly on his arms even when he swings his weapons at full speed. It is hard to adjust to the set of new materials added to his wardrobe with his new position, but he finds that he likes how the boots feel more moveable with the new set of trousers. His major complaint is the material of the shirt that somehow feels like it is catching at his skin rather than sitting tight over it, which gives him this weird sensation of wanting to scratch it at the worst time.
Distracted, Jeongguk puts away the knife on his right hand to itch his back, not feeling much of it over the armor. He moves his shoulders, dislodging the armor slightly to get to the spot. When he looks up after the itch was scratched to his satisfaction, he comes face to face with fiery blue eyes that have him paralyzed on the spot.
"The monster's eyes are cold and blue. One shall never look him in the eye, lest he burns you to ashes."
A vague recollection of warnings flash through Jeongguk's brain. He is frozen, staring into the very eyes that the books have been warning them about.
"I smell the spell papers on you, pretty one. Heed my advice, do not touch them if you value your life... "
The voice is enchanting, laced with a hint of curiosity that also reflects in the monster's eyes. Jeongguk holds his breath, gathers his bearings for a second before kicking his right foot out at the monster's left knee and bolting away from the spot.
He is aware of being followed, however, the fear that has taken over his being is too deep to ignore. Hence he runs; with all his might, right to the location where he knows a mage is waiting to sneak on the dragon and unleash a blood bound weapon. Jeongguk's skin crawls whenever he feels the monster slightly brushing across him as it chases him, toying around with him like a cat that is already full.
It takes him a few stressful minutes to reach the location but when he does, a visible fog of gold and green spreads around, reaching up to the sky and essentially blocking the monster from entering from above as well. Jeongguk does not understand how it works, but he knows it has something to do with the mage's blood and weapon that fires up when blood is fed to it.
Jeongguk watches the monster morph into a dragon with a pained screech, shifting from its human skin to fly and get away from the fog that burns its scale.
He is sprawled on the ground, lungs straining to keep him alive when he notices a warm tingling sensation around his calves. He sits up with a groan to lift up his trousers to inspect what kind of injury is causing this sensation. What he sees then is a set of cut-off strings that glow as they cling to his calves.
"The bind... "
Jeongguk whispers to himself, wondering why it is cut off when he is abruptly grabbed from behind and dragged up to stand on his feet. He clucks his tongue, knowing well that he is about to be dragged off to the highmage's chambers to be punished.
As he is being dragged away, he looks back towards the sky, in the direction the dragon had retreated with a newfound courage.
"It wasn't that bad... I will get you for sure, next time."
A crazed grin, looking almost psychotic, spreads across his cheeks as a new plan formulates in his brain.
⚚
Tears roll down his cheeks; all the memories flooding him as soon as he realizes he has been captured by the enemy. The cries of the Princess as she was repeatedly hurled against the boulders pricking his ears as if he was witnessing it all over again. The silent, unresponsive body of the Crown Prince as it was carried by the dragon that killed him mercilessly, flashes before his eyes.
Jeongguk lunges at the monster, desperate to catch it offguard. He knows he is at a disadvantage here. There are no runeveins on him, or any weapon that would let him cause any real damage to the dragon.
Yet, he finds himself in a combat stance when the dragon dodges, effortless in his movement. With his eyes focused to track the tiniest of the movements from his enemy, and his feet grounded, Jeongguk sends a silent prayer to the gods above. He is scared but he refuses to go down that easily.
He knows the slash he gave with his sword to the dragon's left leg must still be painful. A plan to pin the vile monster down formulates in his brain, even as he continues to lunge with fake moves to confuse the enemy.
If only I can get him to talk... Why am I still alive?
"You are welcome to spar with me if you wish to. I would make an exception for you and only you," The dragon's voice is annoyingly husky, Jeongguk notes. In a different setting, he would have enjoyed hearing a soft melody in this deep voice which would slowly lull him into a dreamless sleep.
Alas, the owner of the alluring voice is his mortal enemy. Jeongguk grips the candleholder tighter, refusing to respond.
"If you insist on fighting me, Jeongguk,"
A smirk takes over the sculpted face, confidence oozing out of every whispered word, irking Jeongguk to no extent.
"you are bound to lose!"
"ARRGH!" Jeongguk jumps at him with a guttural scream, mustering every last ounce of his strength, betting on this one move hitting the target, only to be stopped short by a pair of arms circling his waist from behind and dragging him a few feet away from said target.
"WHO IN -"
It would be an understatement to say Jeongguk is enraged. He could probably burn down the whole town with one glare at this moment, yet he goes cold. His body frozen, limbs unresponsive, and eyes going round as a full moon; his heart may or may not have stopped for a minute looking at the person who is grimacing.
"Y-you..." Jeongguk stammers. His tongue is not really rolling to form the words, nor is his throat cooperating, only producing squeaky gibberish.
"Yeah! Hm, Hi," The tall man before him mutters awkwardly; voice and mannerisms all too familiar to Jeongguk's stupefied self.
"Wh-what in the name of Valebrant is going on here?"
Jeongguk's voice is still breathy and squeaky, but he is too confused to be embarrassed about such things. He looks between the tall man and his mortal enemy, questions visible in his rounded, confused eyes.
"Ummm, just, uh – put that away first, maybe, and we can talk?"
The voice, the awkwardness, the face, the dimples – everything is the same. Jeongguk is sure he is hallucinating.
A doppelganger? Some kind of a magical demon?
Jeongguk continues to stare, trying to make sense of what he is seeing. His mind supplies him with a hundred different possibilities of how he must be falling for a trick.
One can never trust anything in this lair...
"Dragon, one would think you were smart enough to realize that I am not someone who falls for such lame tricks!"
Jeongguk scoffs at the aloof form, his irritation flaring off the roof by now. He feels like he could explode like a metal ball condensed in a fire pit. He hears a light growl as a response but at the moment, Jeongguk can only care so much about the filthy being that he has sworn to kill.
"Jeongguk, listen to me -"
Jeongguk flings the candleholder, cutting off the doppelganger and making him take a step back unsurely, before the doppelganger continues with a fear laced chuckle, "- or better yet, just look at me. You know me. You remember me, right? I am Namjoon. Does it ring a bell?"
At this point, all Jeongguk can do is seethe at this godforsaken imitation of a being and stay ready to pounce even as his body complains of exhaustion. The way the doppelganger is talking to him is triggering his heartache that he had buried for years.
When the echoes in his ears of the crown prince's pained cries from years ago become intolerable, Jeongguk sprints towards the monster with a bodily swing, "I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THIS DISRESPECT TOWARDS MY ROYALS WILL NEVER BE TOLERATED!", the candleholder clangs against a piece of metal.
He put his everything into that one move but looking at how the monster does not even straighten up to defend, Jeongguk feels hopeless. It is a hairpin that the monster held up to stop his mighty attack. It did not even chip slightly despite the strength he put into it.
As if he has given into the cruel games of fate, Jeongguk lowers his arms, shoulders hunching, and head bowing in despair. As expected, a moment later the dragon moves to straighten up and take a careless step towards him. Jeongguk continues to sniffle, keeping an eye on the movement until he decides it is time to drop the act.
With a swift sidestep to anchor his body in a hunched position, Jeongguk swipes the ground in a circular motion that successfully sends the dragon faceplanting on the floor. The groan that builds in the dragon's throat is not even halfway out when Jeongguk jumps at him, intending to stab his neck and end it once and for all.
Moments pass but Jeongguk does not seem to land on his feet; nor does his weapon pierce the nape of the monster as he planned. He is stuck, as if the time was frozen. For the lack of better words, Jeongguk finds himself hung midair, unable to move his limbs.
A deep scowl slowly contorts his face, eyes narrowing as he glares at the figure currently laying below him on its back with an infuriating smirk. The dragon sports a reddened nose with a hint of blood smearing above his infuriatingly plush lip. Yet, the pain does not reflect on his face. Jeongguk finds himself wishing for runeveins for the nth time since the moment he woke up. He is about to let out a scream of frustration, a few curse words taking control of his tongue when a loud sigh grabs his attention.
"Jeongguk-ah, you haven't changed."
The doppelganger hurries towards him but to his dismay, he helps the monster get off the floor, dusting off the non-existing dirt from his robes and long, silky hair.
When his disapproving look reaches the tall man, he flinches and holds his hand up as if apologizing.
"I believe this is the only way to make you listen to me." The apology remains unvoiced, only hints of it making way into his voice as he continues, "Believe me, I do NOT like this anymore than you do..."
Jeongguk stares at him with his mouth hanging open for a second before huffing and rolling his eyes at the man.
"My royals would never treat me like this. You just proved that you are not the crown prince."
From his periphery, he can see the dragon lazily walking to the lounge chair while rubbing a snow white stone to nurse the very red looking sculpted nose. The half updo ponytail is now loosened to let his beautiful white hair cover the entirety of his back, a little less put together than before. There is also a slight hiss coming from the dragon that makes Jeongguk's ego inflate a tiny bit.
Another big sigh follows his statement.
"Well, little bunny wouldn't look at me like he is one step away from skinning me alive, either!" That comes out tinged with a laugh and a shrug of his shoulders.
Little bunny? He called me little bunny... Is it really him?
Jeongguk is tired of thinking so much. His mind has been running a mile a minute for the past hour. The weight from his stiff shoulders feels like it could crush him any minute. When the heart wins the battle, silently, he sniffs as a tear rolls down his cheek with the childhood memories flashing over in his mind.
He hated that nickname, even as a kid. It made him sound weak.
"I didn't realize I missed hearing that nickname so much." He sniffs, the candleholder falling to the ground with a loud clang and disappearing somewhere beneath the bed.
Jeongguk takes a deep breath, ignoring the sudden coldness running up his spine that makes him shudder. "Are you really the crown prince? This is not a cheap trick of that bastard dragon, right?"
A warning growl rumbles through the room. Namjoon, looking aghast at him, swipes hard at his shoulders, sending him tumbling, the spell broken just like that.
"Be mindful of your words, sweetheart. My dragon is always looking for a reason to act up."
Namjoon, who helps him up, clears his throat and drags him away from the dragon when he tries to square up. He is unwilling to give up this fight, however, Namjoon's face tells him there is something bigger to worry about.
What could be bigger than eliminating our sworn enemy?
His thoughts are pulling him back to the state of extreme anger but Namjoon hands him a bowl of exotic fruits while pushing down on his shoulders to sit him down on the bed, totally ignoring Jeongguk's confused looks.
"Jeongguk, prepare yourself for what you are about to hear."
There sure is a lot to unpack.
Jeongguk scoffs internally. His heart is conflicted. On one hand, he feels the relief, happiness, and confusion of seeing Namjoon alive. On the other, he wonders if the monster has managed to bewitch the crown prince.
The glass bowl in his hands has intricate details of vines running along the rim with fine lines of leaves and flowers circling a creature resembling a dragonfly. The details are a little worn out on the creatures but it looks like it could be a piece of art hung on the walls of the palace back at home.
As his brain wanders, Jeongguk realizes that he is avoiding the talk. Instinctively, he knows he will not like what is about to be uncovered. He welcomes the distraction, openly admiring the bowl, turning it around to trace his forefinger along the vines, picturing them with vibrant colors on a huge roll of paper, ready to be displayed.
"The bowl seems to have piqued your interest. So befitting of you."
All thoughts of art, nature, palace, or whatsoever vanish from his mind when he hears that voice. Anger flares in him like lava, burning his insides to ashes.
"Before you blow your lid off, Jeongguk, -" Namjoon interrupts his plans of attacks and brutal murders, his voice getting an authoritative edge to it, reminiscent of the times when he was in one of those excruciatingly boring advisory meetings.
"- this is Kim Taehyung. King of Liraeth."
⚚