The rhythm of the chariot mirrored the rapid pulsations of Jeonghan's heart, resounding loudly in his ears. He swallowed hard, feeling the beads of sweat tracing a path down his neck, all while stealing a glance at Seungcheol's imposing figure seated beside him, armed and ready.
"How swiftly fortunes change and kingdoms fall," Jeonghan mused, his gaze distant, recalling the moments before when he stood in his father's castle, witnessing the clash between his father and the merciless king of Sel, only to find himself now whisked away as a prized possession by the very same king.
Seungcheol cocked his head, his eyes scanning over Jeonghan's tense form, noting the prince's nervous demeanor as he fought the urge to flee from the chariot.
Indeed, Prince Yoon Jeonghan is a vision to behold, worthy of reverence and admiration, Seungcheol admitted softly, his gaze lingering on Jeonghan's slender figure draped in layers of navy blue garments, clutching a wooden staff adorned with pearls. Such beauty seems almost surreal, yet here it stands before me.
"Touch me not!" Jeonghan recoiled, swatting away Seungcheol's encroaching hand, moving swiftly to distance himself from the man who had torn apart his family and his kingdom, now intent on stealing him away as well. "I will never kneel before you, not in this life nor any other," Jeonghan declared, his eyes ablaze with defiance as he glared at the usurper who had brought ruin upon everything he held dear.
"Ah, my celestial jewel," Seungcheol chuckled, raising his hand to his chin in contemplation, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "It is only a matter of time before you find yourself on bended knee before me. Your father may have surrendered his kingdom to me, but now, he has also surrendered you. You are mine."
Jeonghan's jaw clenched, his resolve steeling against Seungcheol's taunting words. "You may have taken my father's kingdom by force, but you will never take my dignity," he spat, his voice laced with defiance.
Seungcheol's smirk widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, but dignity is such a fragile thing, easily shattered by the weight of power," he countered, his tone dripping with arrogance. "You will come to realize that resistance is futile, my dear prince. Embrace your fate, for you are destined to be by my side, ruling at my behest."
Jeonghan's fists clenched at his sides, his gaze narrowing at the man who dared to call himself king. "I will never bow to you, Seungcheol," he vowed, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. "I would sooner face death than submit to your tyranny."
Seungcheol's expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. "Stubborn fool," he growled, his hand darting out to seize Jeonghan's wrist in a vice-like grip. "You will learn the consequences of defying me, one way or another."
As the chariot continued its journey towards an uncertain future, Jeonghan braced himself for the trials ahead, determined to fight for his freedom and his kingdom until his last breath.
As the chariot rolled through the bustling streets of Sel, Jeonghan observed the kingdom's gleaming facade, despite its ruler's relentless pursuit of wealth and authority. His eyes sparkled with intrigue as he beheld the throngs of people gathered at the castle gates, unmistakably King Seungcheol's subjects. The imposing gates swung open, and the chariot swept through the crowd, Seungcheol's gaze unwavering as he scrutinized his subjects until the gates sealed shut behind them.
Within the chariot, Jeonghan couldn't escape the attention of curious onlookers, who whispered and gasped at the sight of another man beside the king. Their hushed speculation filled the air, only briefly silenced by the lowering of heads as the chariot passed.
"Who's that beside the king?"
"Could it be a peace offering from King Minjae?"
"He's quite striking."
Jeonghan's fists clenched as the chariot halted before the castle doors.
"Alight," commanded Seungcheol, his voice commanding obedience. Jeonghan remained frozen, fixated on the ground beneath him. Seungcheol's impatience flared, and he seized Jeonghan's wrist, hauling him upright.
"Release me—"
"Challenge me if your life holds no value," Seungcheol murmured, his tone low but the threat unmistakable. With a twisted smile, he gestured for Jeonghan to descend from the chariot.
"That's better," Seungcheol remarked, his satisfaction evident as he prepared to disembark, dragging Jeonghan along.
"Hail to the king," the soldiers intoned, bowing reverently as they held the doors open, avoiding eye contact with Jeonghan, who trailed alongside Seungcheol.
As they stepped into the grandeur of the castle, Jeonghan couldn't help but notice the opulence that surrounded them—the polished marble floors, the intricate tapestries adorning the walls, and the flickering torches casting dancing shadows. It was a stark contrast to the grim reality he faced beside Seungcheol.
With each echoing footstep, Jeonghan felt the weight of his situation pressing down upon him. He was a pawn in Seungcheol's game, a mere ornament to be displayed at the king's whim.
Seungcheol strode ahead with a sense of entitlement, his every movement exuding power and authority. Jeonghan, on the other hand, felt like a captive, trapped in a world where his own desires and ambitions held no sway.
As they reached the throne room, Jeonghan's heart sank at the sight of the ornate golden throne, upon which Seungcheol would sit and rule with an iron fist. It was a reminder of the kingdom's oppressive regime, where the king's word was law and dissent was swiftly crushed.
Jeonghan's gaze lingered on Seungcheol's back, his mind racing with thoughts of rebellion and escape. But he knew that to defy the king would be folly, a futile gesture that would only end in pain and suffering.
And so, with a heavy heart and a resigned sigh, Jeonghan followed Seungcheol to the foot of the throne, where he knelt in submission, his spirit broken but his determination unbroken. For even in the darkest of times, hope still flickered in the depths of his soul, a beacon of light in the midst of tyranny.
"Hail to the king," echoed a voice in the throne room, resonating like a whispered invocation that stirred the air with reverence. Jeonghan's gaze, veiled behind his lowered lashes, rose to meet the sight of a man whose locks flowed like liquid ebony, cascading in graceful waves over broad shoulders as he bowed before King Seungcheol.
"Yes, Junhui?" Seungcheol's voice, commanding yet tinged with curiosity, acknowledged his minister's presence, eliciting a subtle raise of Junhui's head as the king nodded in his direction.
"I thought your attack on Yoon land was to capture both the land and its people. Why then have you brought the prince here with you?" Despite his stature as a minister, Junhui dared to question the sovereign's motives, a brazen act that momentarily caught Jeonghan off guard, though he concealed any outward reaction.
"Minjae offered him to me as a peace offering in exchange for his land," Seungcheol responded, his fingers idly tracing invisible patterns upon the polished surface of the throne chair.
"That still doesn't explain why you settled for the seed when you could have claimed the entire tree, my king," Junhui persisted, his gaze now directed piercingly at Jeonghan, who met the scrutiny with a steady resolve. Though a tempest of emotions churned within him, Jeonghan knew better than to provoke recklessly in the midst of such delicate diplomacy.
"The seed will one day grow into a tree, my dear Junhui. If Minjae were to perish, who do you think would inherit Yoon land? This little prince, now mine to command and mine to manipulate," Seungcheol asserted, a glint of calculated ambition flickering in his eyes as Junhui's skepticism gradually morphed into a begrudging comprehension.
"Where is Jisoo—"
The reverberating clang of heavy steel doors shattered the fragile tranquility of their discourse, heralding the arrival of a figure as captivating as the night sky itself. His tresses, like threads of molten flame, danced in ethereal waves around him as he strode with purpose toward Seungcheol, his countenance ablaze with a righteous fury.
"Why did you do it?" Jisoo's voice, laden with a potent mixture of concern and reproach, sliced through the tension, demanding accountability from his kin.
"Do what?" Seungcheol's retort was swift, his gaze unwavering as it locked with his brother's, a silent challenge etched in the depths of his steely stare.
"Attack an innocent kingdom again. Lord forbid, what is wrong with you?" Jisoo's concern resonated palpably in his words, casting a shadow over the otherwise unyielding facade of his sibling, who remained stoic in the face of scrutiny.
"The Yoon land was destined to be mine from the moment I set my sights on it, Jisoo, and you know it well," Seungcheol proclaimed, his resolve unshakeable as he held his brother's gaze in an unspoken battle of wills.
Jeonghan's breath caught in his throat as he found himself ensnared in the intensity of their exchange, feeling as though he, too, stood under the scrutiny of Jisoo's piercing gaze. The elder's furrowed brow only added to his sense of apprehension as he awaited the next turn of events.
"You have brought a man here? What is the meaning of this?" Jisoo's voice, tinged with a blend of confusion and concern, pierced the air like a clarion call.
"He was sent as a peace offering," Seungcheol interjected, rising from his throne with a fluid motion that bespoke both regal authority and restless energy.
"Junhui, accompany me. There are matters we must discuss," Seungcheol commanded, his voice a velvet whisper that carried the weight of his sovereign decree, before descending from the dais with a final glance cast toward Jisoo and Jeonghan.
"Jisoo, take him to my chambers," he directed, his words a solemn directive that left Jeonghan to confront the uncertain future that awaited him within the hallowed halls of King Seungcheol's court.
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-Vaish
The words (some of it) might be confusing and hard to deal with but since this a royalty based ff, I have to add them, and I promise I won't add much of hard words. ❤️