Long after they have parted, the pads of his fingers still linger over his parted lips seeking the lost warmth of Jungkook's kiss, and Taehyung finds himself ridiculously wishing they had some sort of mystic ability to bring the sensation back. It had been a kiss much too unwise, yet so wondrously charming! Jungkook's lips had most definitely carried the irresistible fervor of youth and sincere devotedness, but it was the thrilling sense of danger that came with it what awoke within the depths of Taehyung's soul a fiery-colored flame that threatened to never extinguish. A flame that, to this moment, continues to redden his face, and of which enigmatic powers he has no control over.

Oh, if he could dance to the joy of his heart, he would! But he cannot let himself be governed by emotion any longer, for he has duties to attend, and a letter of urgent importance to deliver. The lateness of his arrival is evident, and moderate guilt clings to him much like wet earth clings to the skin. Nonetheless, he suspects his presence must have been but hardly missed. Most conveniently, the palace holds a small royal gathering this evening, and events of the kind always carry the necessary distractions to make everybody forget about a servant or two. At the very least, he does hope it has been entertaining enough to keep his absence from tainting the prince's thoughts.

Now, having left his horse in the commodity of the stables for a well-deserved rest, Taehyung enters the main kitchen where, as it is custom at this hour of the evening, only a few servants and a couple of busy maids remain about the place. He walks to the servant standing closest to the entrance with the intention of asking whether he can be of any use, however, he is not allowed the opportunity to do so as a very much agitated Seokjin appears, surely out of thin air, to greet him.

"Taehyung! You dare show your face, at long last!", he whispers in a manner so turbulent that it is perfectly audible to everybody else in the kitchen, several shameless heads turning to watch their encounter with curious eyes.

"Well, I must say I feel rather flattered by your enthusiasm, Seokjin," Taehyung smirks in half fondness, half mockery; but instead of receiving a thriving response of equal playfulness as he anticipated he would, an austere look is sent his way.

"Silly boy! I am in no disposition to fool around, do you have no shame in being so reckless?", he gestures wildly. It cannot be denied that at present Seokjin is prey of a foul mood, and this, added to the unexpected admonishing tint of his voice, makes the once eternal smile on Taehyung's lips to rapidly diminish into vanishment. As he inspects Seokjin's face more attentively, he thinks that such a troubled expression, obscured as it is with the heaviness of worry, cannot be merely the consequence of a fleeting bad temper. "Where were you?" Seokjin inquires with evident anxiety. "Our dearest prince has been looking for you the entire day! You should have seen the look on his face, I have never witnessed despair the likes of it."

This information brings a merciless pang to his heart. "Oh, is it true?" he mumbles, face falling into a frown as he imagines the many worries that his selfish carelessness must have placed in the prince's mind. "Poor prince Jimin! How much have I wronged him! I must flee to apologize immediately."

"Indeed, you must!" cries Seokjin, his theatrical mannerisms drawing even more attention to their private discussion, and if he does notice this, cares not. He is far from finished. "His worry was so grand, Taehyung, so grand, that he graced us with his presence, here, in the kitchens! Good heavens! A prince in the kitchens, is there anything more outrageous? Go now, Taehyung, and be sure to show him your most humble penitence."

Overcome by a sudden wave of oppressive repentance and slight fear, Taehyung gives Seokjin a brusque nod that he hopes conveys all of his gratitude and the promise of doing as he was instructed. Wishing to waste not a second, he walks briskly to the nearest door in pursuit of exiting the main kitchen to find the prince in his chambers, yet again his path is blocked by someone else.

"There you are!", cries out the old maid that stands before him, her rounded face grim and her voice crude. "Foolish boy! Where have you been?! Oh! if it was up to me I would whip you into some good sense," after that, she falls silent, her aged eyes scrutinizing his stiff form before deeming him worthy. Finally, she steps aside to leave a gap for him to pass through, and her voice again snaps: "Do not simply stand there and make use of those legs, lad. The prince awaits you."

Taehyung exhibits some difficulty in swallowing the lump of nerves that has formed in his throat, and to delay himself no further, rushes past the fuming old lady without a word. It is clear she had been purposely sent to collect him, therefore, it is safe to assume prince Jimin is aware of his return, and this is an assumption that does more wrong than good to Taehyung's nerves.

He cannot remain composed as he climbs the seemingly endless stairs leading to the upper left wing of the palace, his mind filled with an extensive pondering of what he is to say the prince. Perhaps, it might be true that haste is not ally to clarity of thought, nonetheless, in the brisk of his climbing his decision is made. Taehyung knows the letter he carries should suffice to inform the prince of the complicated situation at hand, but he strongly believes telling him the truth himself is due. It may very well not be as easy, but it is certainly what is moral and just.

He vaguely recalls Jungkook advising him to wait until the shock of the letter has passed before speaking directly to the prince about their affair, but Jungkook does not know him as well nor as in depth as Taehyung does. Once he relates to prince Jimin the greatness and purity of Jungkook's confession, Taehyung feels sure that he will come to understand, because nobody on Earth understands love more than prince Jimin does. Fair enough, it must be admitted that he may be weighed down by the enormous disappointment of not being Jungkook's chosen partner, but Taehyung will be there to comfort him through it all. He will be there to envelop his shaking form with tenderness and dry his tears with laughter.

It seems exercise has made him feel significantly less anxious by the time he climbs the last step, and he comes face to face with the guard, Namjoon, who acknowledges him with a curt nod that he answers with the flash of a smile. Taehyung draws a long breath to steady himself before letting his knuckles fall rhythmically on the wooden surface of the door. There comes no answer, but on this occasion it is obvious that explicit permission to enter is not needed, and he awaits a quarter of a minute before circling his hand around the knob and finally giving himself entrance to the prince's sumptuous chamber.

The door is closed behind him with an elegant click, and darkness wraps his senses. Only the walls and furniture glow ever so faintly with the timid source of light that is provided by a single wick lamp abandoned on top of the desk. Thinking the prince must have been exhausted of waiting and decided to sleep, he considers turning off the solitary lamp and leaving without altering his rest, but the windows are spread open allowing a harsh, icy breeze to come in, and upon further observation, Taehyung discerns the characteristic silhouette of the prince amidst the shadows. The sight is eerily odd, he seems to be standing at the balcony, back turned to him, the soft locks of his pallid hair and the thin fabric of his nightgown swaying with the mild wilderness of the wind.

"Jimin," he mutters tentatively, unsure, "Are you unwell?"

"Come," his mellow, pleasant voice beckons rather than orders Taehyung to approach him, and his feet begin to move as if wholly on their own volition. With great eagerness to please, Taehyung stands beside him at the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze that now caresses his face and plays with his hair as well. Assisted by the silver glow of the moon, Taehyung's eyes travel about the illuminated lines of his face wishing to make contact with his, but all effort is in vain as Jimin is facing front, and he seems to have his gaze set far away from here, the stars, perhaps.

Taehyung looks away, trying to find solace in the calm beauty of the view before them, and utters the beginning of an apology, "Jimin, I am terribly sorry—"

"Of course you are," he suddenly says, serene but not quite as gentle, "I trust you have been informed of how intensely afflicted your sudden disappearance has made me, though I should not wish to blame you, no, not entirely," he shakes his head as if trying to convince himself, and there is something about the way he carries his words that Taehyung cannot help feeling apprehensive of. "I am convinced you would have come to me sooner had it been in your power to do so, yes?" There is a forced pause, and such a question should have been easily answered had Jimin not turned his head to the side, finally facing Taehyung, who only then wishes he hadn't at all. With eyes now dreadfully accustomed to the darkness that envelopes them, not even the poor lighting of the chamber can prevent him from seeing the despairness of it. "Will you care to share where you have been, Taehyung?", Jimin inquires at last.

The sight that is presented to him makes the pit of his stomach curl into itself. Gone is the softness of the prince's features: his plush lips are dry and tilted downwards, his bright eyes are bloated and harsh. What a monstrous pity! Jimin's little cherubic face looks absolutely ruined, and Taehyung fears it is his own doing. For a moment too long, he merely stands there eyeing him, speechless and at a loss of what to do. His former hopeful intentions of confessing the truth are no more, in fact, they seem to him now the most despicable of tortures. No, he cannot possibly bring this poor soul any more suffering.

"You should have every right to be mad at me, Jimin. I am most ashamed of myself, to have you endure so much pain because of me! Oh, it is unpardonable," Taehyung heaves a shaky sigh, and the sheer repent of his gaze ventures into Jimin's sullen eyes. "I am not worthy of it, and yet, I must beg for your forgiveness. I dare hope you shall feel some reassurance in knowing that my unusual delay was never intentional," his heart tremors with the appalling awareness that he must give into a little falsehood here, "I went to retrieve the letter, and I was already on my way back when I stupidly wandered—"

Once again, Jimin interferes his speech, "Wandered, you say? That is very strange, considering you seldom enjoy much wandering." Taehyung has to steel himself when he feels caught under Jimin's piercing, almost iced stare. "I shed so many tears for you, but I suppose I must have worried in excess, after all."

A fresh surge of remorse comes over him then, and he gasps, feeling the most despicable creature alive, "Oh! How dreadful it is to imagine your face marred by tears I caused. Forgive me— no," he shakes his head, "My apologies will not do. Please, say what I am to do to improve your current state. Perhaps some herbal tea and cards? Wine? A bath?" he suggests, desperate to redeem himself to the eyes of the sorrowful prince. "Anything, Jimin, I shall do anything for you."

They stare at each other, one appearing entirely passionless and the other on the verge of dropping to his knees.

"Is it not lovely? Always acting in consideration of my feelings. I ought to congratulate you," he says with an air of strangled magnificence, eyes flashing some sort of mad light that shakes Taehyung the wrong way. "Really, what a flawless rendition! Tell me, Taehyung, do you think me a fool?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, I believe you heard every word with perfect clarity," he rasps, "But perhaps your pretty little brain cannot grasp the meaning unless I rephrase it. Taehyung, am I but a simpleton to you?"

Utterly confused and stunned by so odd a question, Taehyung blinks at him, and endeavors to answer as honestly and as steady as he can, "No, of course not."

"How kind of you! But I am, I must be a fool, blinded by your meticulously threaded cobweb of endearing hypocrisy!", he thunders, violently stepping forward and startling Taehyung by attacking his chest with an accusative index finger. "After every thing I have done for your sake, treated you as family, gave you so many privileges! You forget my generosity and dare to fancy me unimportant, betraying my trust as if it were worth nothing!"

The shock is great, but so is the pain and alarm that invades his being at this moment. Taehyung's countenance grows pale, and he takes a few steps back wanting nothing more than to run away from Jimin's explosive rage. "Please, cease this at once! I am afraid I do not comprehend."

"No, Taehyung, your perfect fallacy has been discovered, and I will not allow you to deceive me further!", he bellows, face incandescent with contempt, "I saw you two, and I could hardly believe it myself. But certainly, there you were, together, with him!" His words, abrupt and harsh, seem to be laced with the grim edge of disgust, and Taehyung feels his blood run cold in his veins, hazel eyes growing wide and tremulous. In a fit of emerald envy, Jimin continues to speak with unrestrained resentment, "Upon my word, I thought, is he lost to every feeling of decency? Even I was ashamed to witness how impudently you put yourself on display, mouth to mouth with him in the middle of the gates! I wonder, were you so desperate for a little spotlight that you had to seduce your way into his bed?"

The crudity of the scorn that is thrown his way is sure to bruise the most tender parts of his heart, and as hot tears begin to gather in his eyes, Taehyung can blame none other but himself. He manages a broken whisper: "You cannot be this cruel, Jimin, I know you are not. Your words wound me, but I am bound to understand your anger, even your madness, truly I should feel them as mine. If only you would allow me to explain it to you, there is a letter—"

"Silence!" Jimin demands, breathing harshly from the effort of containing what is left of the boiling tumult inside him. Taehyung lowers his gaze to the floor, and cries silently. "I will not hear a word you say, but you will hear mine. Such letter you speak of does not interest me. What you have done is the greatest offense to my honor, and I will not tolerate being the victim of something so vile. From this day on, I shall forget that poor excuse of a man, and you shall too, Taehyung. I forbid you from seeing him again; this is my resolve, this is justice. Soon, you may forget he ever existed at all."

His reaction to Jimin's barbarous order is immediate. Taehyung raises his head to glare at him with watery, fierce eyes, uttering a heartrending cry, "No!", and suddenly unafraid, he steps forward. The look on his tear-stained face seems to be painted with shadow and light, torn between the primitiveness of pathos and the crimson beauty of courage. "You cannot force me to do such an atrocity, there is no way I could ever forget him— I love him!"

Menacing madness flashes in Jimin's eyes, "How can you think I should give a care for your wants when you had the audacity of dismissing mine?!", his nostrils flare, and Taehyung trembles at the thought that he might do something else, but Jimin only heaves out a mortifying sigh, and turns his head to the balcony. "I cannot bear to look at you any longer. Get out of my sight."

What a devastating scene this is! With those final words bleeding so much animosity, Taehyung is prompted to leave at once, and he has to force a shrill cry down his throat before storming out of the chamber in tempestuous agony, waterfalls of raw grief preventing him from seeing anything beyond the blur of wick lamps dancing in the darkness.