You walked back to the party, neither of you daring to say a word to the other. A tense string stretched between you and Jimin, ready to snap at the slightest touch.
"I will take the carriage," he announced.
Jungkook quietly escorted him, leaving you to ride with the others.
The rest of the journey passed in a blur. Your head buzzing with thoughts and questions, you barely noticed when you arrived before the gates of a sprawling manor standing in the middle of a vineyard. The sun was already setting.
Lord Waymer himself had arrived to welcome you. Stout, round-faced and white-bearded, he looked so different from the image in your head.
"Welcome, Prince Jimin, Princess Y/N," his voice boomed. "It is an honour to have you in my humble abode."
By his side stood a slender woman, her hair in a long braid, auburn and streaked with grey. The wrinkles on her face did nothing to diminish her beauty, and her eyes shone with the wisdom that only age could bring.
Lady Waymer, you thought.
Her eyes scanned you from head to toe, widening as they took in the state of your gown and the breeches that showed through underneath. Then she turned away, beckoning her husband to follow.
Crossing the courtyard, you were led through a set of oaken doors and ornate archways. You emerged into a room with vaulted ceilings and velvet curtains. The elongated table at the centre was laden with bread and meat and wine.
The old man ushered you into your seats. Lord and Lady Waymer sat at the head of the table, and you and Jimin took your places on either side of them. The men sat in the remaining chairs. Famished by the journey, they wasted no time in tucking in. For a while, the clinking of plates and knives and forks were the only sounds to be heard.
You sliced a tiny piece of the cold meat on your plate and nibbled at it. The food should have tempted you. On any other day, you would be eating with a healthy appetite. But something lay heavy on your chest, and you felt like you couldn't swallow a single morsel.
"Try the cherry wine, Your Highness," Lord Waymer urged as he slid a porcelain jug over to you. "It should help with your appetite."
You mumbled a thank you as Lady Waymer filled your cup. The liquid was hot. Mulled wine, you realised. As you held it in your hand, the aroma of cloves and cinnamon rose from it, mingling with the steam. The liquid hit your tongue and you almost let out a sigh.
"How is it, Your Highness?" The man asked.
"It's good," you said, taking another sip. "Better than good."
He smiled, his eyes twinkling.
"That is our speciality, Your Highness. We make the best wines in the country. Our people have mastered the art of winemaking."
"Waymer wines are sought after, even in the capital", Jimin interjected. "Expensive, but well worth it."
"That is kind of you to say, Prince Jimin," Lord Waymer said. "You should try our new variant of this cherry wine. It's better than anything I have ever tasted. You will love it."
"We could have a jug sent to your chamber," Lady Waymer offered.
"I would appreciate that," Jimin replied.
You couldn't eat, that was clear by now. Instead, you sat back in your chair, sipping the wine. Your eyes met Jimin's once or twice across the table. He turned away every time as if the very sight of you burned him.
As the conversation dwindled, Lady Waymer turned to you.
"How do you find life in the Castle, Your Highness? I'm sure it is different from what you are used to, back in your kingdom."
"I'm adjusting, Lady Waymer. Thank you for your concern." You placed the glass down and wiped your lips.
"Have you met my daughter?" She asked, her eyes holding yours with an intensity that made you squirm.
"Eleanor?" You gulped. "Yes, I have met her. She is a delight to be with."
The woman's face softened as her gaze shifted, her lips curving in a wistful smile.
"Of course, she is." She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief. "She's my darling."
She placed her fork down, folding her hands on her lap.
"Did you know why the Queen took my child from me, Princess Y/N?" Her voice was loud and clear, carrying over the silence in the room. It was as if she wasn't speaking to you, but the entire table. And they listened.
"The queen yearned for a daughter. She wanted a young girl to take care of, to be with her when she grew old."
Jimin was staring absently into his plate, his brows furrowed. You licked your dry lips.
"I still remember the day when she came to take Eleanor with her. We both cried over how beautiful our grandchildren were going to be."
Our grandchildren. The words were like a slap to your face. You would have preferred it if she had stood up and thrown the mulled wine at you.
She smiled, turning to Jimin. "The queen wanted you to marry Eleanor. Surely you're aware of that, Prince?"
"No," he replied, his eyes still on some spot on the table. "Mother never said anything like that to me."
"Ah, mothers don't discuss such things with children, do they?" She chuckled. "She was so sure that the two of you would naturally fall in love once you grew up."
"She's like..." Jimin stopped and swallowed, wetting his lips before he spoke again. "I see Eleanor as my sister. She may not be my blood, but she is my sister, all the same."
"And besides, Lady Waymer," you began, and she whipped around, her eyes blazing as they landed on you. "Prince Jimin has a wife now."
"It's a shame", she said, her teeth bared in a snarl, her voice dripping venom. "It's a shame that the Prince had to enter a political marriage. It's a shame that he had to sacrifice so much for his kingdom."
There was a silence, like the calm before a storm.
Ten, nine, eight... You counted down.
Jimin was rigid in his seat. His eyes were screwed shut as if he was trying to hold himself back. Casting your eyes around, you found them stuck on Jungkook. He wore an expression that matched Jimin's, his face flushed red and his jaw clenched.
The old man cleared his throat. "I heard you would be going to the rebel villages, Your Highness."
The table heaved a collective sigh as the tension broke.
"Ah, yes", Jimin replied. "Father has heard that someone's been stirring up needless trouble there. You wouldn't have anything to do with it, would you, Lord Waymer?"
"Oh, no," the man said, shaking his head. "I am loyal to the king until my last breath. And I would never associate myself with those rebel filth."
"They deserve to be crushed," Lady Waymer said. She lay back in her seat, looking drained. It was as if she had aged ten years in ten minutes.
"I agree." Jimin nodded as he started eating again.
"How do you plan to deal with them, Your Highness?" Lord Waymer asked as he reached for another helping of fruit custard. "I see you brought only a few men with you."
"One of us is enough for ten of them."
"True, true."
"I say there should be no mercy for them," Lady Waymer spoke again. "The only way to deal with rebellion is to nip it in the bud, and nip it well. I say we should hang them all."
"Yes, we should," Jimin agreed.
"That will be a message to them all, not to go against the crown," she said. "Nothing is a better warning than rebel-heads mounted on pikes."
You didn't want to hear his reply to that. Your chair scraped against the floor as you stood.
"You must excuse me, Lord and Lady Waymer, Prince Jimin." You could barely meet any of their eyes. "I-- I think I need some air."
You turned and walked out of the room, your steps getting faster and faster the further you went, until you were running. There was a fine layer of sweat on your forehead. Nausea rose in your throat.
The images wouldn't go away, no matter how hard you tried.
A whole village, dead. Their bodies hanging from the trees, swaying in the wind. Crows picking at their flesh. Their houses burning, the smoke rising to the sky like grey pillars. Their children starving in the streets and their widows wailing.
Jimin would do that.
You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to face him.
"Are you alright, Princess?" His eyes were narrowed in concern, his voice gentle.
It was disorienting. There were two Jimins in your head. One was the prince of hearts, the gentle one who saved you from death, the one who had kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
The other was the dealer of death. The merciless ruler who would kill entire villages to keep his power.
You felt your knees going weak.
"Y/N?" He moved forward as if to take you in his arms.
"Don't touch me," you hissed at him.
More footsteps were coming your way. Lady Waymer emerged carrying a candle, her eyes darting between you and Jimin as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning.
"Lady Waymer, would you please lead me to my chamber?" You said. "I think I need to rest a bit."
"Follow me, Your Highness."
You left Jimin standing there. She climbed one set of stairs after the other, with you at her heels. She stopped at a door, pushing it open.
"Should I send for the physician, Your Highness?" She asked.
"That won't be necessary. I just need to rest." You walked in, and the door softly shut behind you.
You went to the window, throwing it open.
There must be a garden down there, you thought. I can smell the flowers.
You remembered your lessons. You had been foolish, forgetful, thoughtless. But now you remembered.
"Jimin must fall for you," Yoongi had said. "But you must not fall for him."
You could finally understand the meaning of his words.
There was a jug on the table, a delicate porcelain vessel. You opened it, smelling the contents. It was some exotic wine, probably sent by Lady Waymer.
Your travelling chest was in the corner. You kneeled in front of it and ran your hands over the waxed leather before unlocking it. You pushed the stack of clothes to the side. The bottles of perfumes were kept in a corner, tied together with a string.
Except one of those bottles wasn't perfume.
You untied the string, taking out the crystal vial.
"One tiny drop is enough to kill a man," Namjoon had said as he handed it to you. It was time to find out if it was the truth.
You went to the jug and opened the lid. You tipped the vial, and the liquid trickled into the wine.
Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.
"That should do it."
Later that night, Jimin walked in. You were in bed, pretending to be asleep. You listened to his footsteps as he undressed. The bed dipped under his weight as he lay down next to you, his breathing slowly settling into a steady rhythm as he fell asleep.
It was a pity that he hadn't drunk the wine, but it was alright. You still had time.