Royal Duty [Minjoon]

22nd part

Namjoon was one of those. The ones who had done a crime for the sake of survival. His mother's survival. Jimin was sure he would have done the same if he were in the other man's position. The servant hadn't had much choice if he wanted to see his mother live. He should have realized that way sooner. The reason why Namjoon had come to the castle at all was due to this crime. An act of desperation to provide food for his dying mother. As he thought of the other man, he realized how little he knew of his life before their correspondence. It filled him with dread to know that he now would never know.

The prince did not believe that it had all been a ploy. It couldn't be. He might not know much of sorcery, but he did not believe one could control those who were unfamiliar to oneself. To promote Namjoon to his servant had been none other than his own decision. Namjoon had not even touched him at the time. Hence, there was no chance for him to have been affected by a spell when he made the promotion. It had all been his choice.

No matter how many times he reached this conclusion, it did not take away from the fact that there had been proof of the contrary. There was blatant proof of the man's crimes. Recalling it made his chest sting.

If Namjoon did in fact use magic on him, as the proof suggested, then yes, he had committed a crime. Yet even the prince had to admit that it was not one which inherently deserved his life. His father's methods were outdated and strict, Jimin had told himself this his whole life. Nonetheless when it had been his turn to convict, he had used the very same methods. The ones that had been repeatedly forced into his mind through his father's words and actions. He was no better than his father. The thought forced a feeling of defeat over him.

At the same time, he could now to a degree understand why his father did it this way. In the moment of decision, he had been filled solely by anger, betrayal and remorse. His heart had been played with, crushed and trampled on, there was no other way to explain it than painful. If Namjoon had not been burned, if he instead had only been put in the dungeon, Jimin knew he would only still feel pain and anger again today. It would not have been forgiven as quickly. Still, as someone who had grown up without a mother and with a sick father, he knew that time heals, especially among those who cared for each other. Had he only placed him in the dungeon, the anger would eventually pass and when it did, he might have been able to forgive. To see him again. Talk to him again. Maybe if he had made that choice instead, he would not feel like there was a hole in his chest.

The courtyard was empty now. All the townspeople who had come to watch the burning of the sorcerer, had left. Only the men responsible for cleaning the remains were present. The prince turned around, back facing the scene where the event of his greatest regret had played out, and as he commenced his stroll in the opposite direction, a tear ran down his cheek.

It was not supposed to be like this. He was not supposed to be feeling like this. He was the one who had been hurt. He had been used, spelled, broken, yet somehow, even with the magic gone and the master dead, nothing was different. Everything, every emotion, every memory was supposed to have left as smoke together with the man who had caused them. Somehow, it instead only hurt more to know that he would be gone forever. There was no longer any magic, yet the infatuation he had felt for the servant still remained as strong as ever. His heart hurt way more now than it did before. Than it ever had done before.

As his legs sped up underneath him, a stream of tears ran down his cheeks. A hand clenched his shirt hardly and his breath sped up. He ran towards the forest behind the castle. His legs were numb, his head was spinning and when he knew he was so deep into the forest that no soul would hear him, he finally let himself collapse. Knees on the dirt below him, head rested in his hands as he screamed louder than he ever had before. His lungs were desperately heaving for air. The tears continued streaming from his eyes, falling to the mud below even as he tried his very best to wipe them. His other hand still held a tight grip on his shirt over his heart. As he recalled the image of Namjoon's body in the flames, a strong wave of nausea overtook him. Before he even had the time to think, he threw up. Harshly, and painfully.