Eternal Flame
Prologue
The palace burned with shadows. Torches flickered against blood-stained marble, and the cries of soldiers echoed down the crimson halls. Rain poured through shattered windows, soaking the silk carpets and scattering the scent of smoke, steel, and betrayal.
Prince Taehyung staggered through the corridor, one hand pressed against the wound in his side. His white robe was drenched red, his breaths shallow. Behind him, the bodies of loyal guards lay lifeless—men who had died trying to protect him.
His heart pounded louder than the storm outside, but not from fear. From betrayal.
At the end of the hall, the great doors of the throne room burst open. There he was.
Crown Prince Jungkook.
Armor gleaming with rain, blade slick with blood. His dark hair clung to his face, his eyes a storm of unreadable fire.
Kim Taehyung
voice cracked.
(whispering) Jungkook… you…
Jungkook stepped forward slowly, expression void of remorse. Behind him, soldiers lowered their weapons, waiting for the final order.
Kim Taehyung
(tears mixing with blood) You swore… to protect me. To love me.
Jeon Jungkook
(low, steady) And I swore… to protect the throne.
The blade lifted. For a fleeting heartbeat, Jungkook’s eyes softened, as if torn by a war inside himself. Then steel cut through flesh.
Taehyung collapsed, the cold floor swallowing his final breath.
But as the world darkened, the last thing he saw was Jungkook’s trembling hands, knuckles white around the sword. And a single drop of water—not rain, not blood—slid down Jungkook’s cheek.
Realm Between Life and Death
The void was silent, endless. Yet within it, a flame flickered.
Taehyung’s soul burned with fury. Memories of laughter, whispered promises under lantern light, stolen glances in the gardens—all twisted into a dagger lodged in his heart.
Taehyung POV
"If the gods mock me with another life… I will not be gentle. I will not forgive. I will make him kneel before me. Jungkook… whether by love or by ruin… you will be mine."
And the flame roared.
Taehyung awoke in his bedchamber, drenched in sweat. His hand flew to his chest—no wound. His silken robes unsoiled. Outside, the palace bells tolled gently, signaling morning court.
He stumbled to the mirror.
The reflection staring back was younger. Softer.
Untouched by betrayal.
His lips trembled.
Kim Taehyung
(hoarse whisper) I’ve returned…
At that moment, the doors slid open.
A young man entered, hair tied neatly, his uniform crisp—eyes dark as night yet carrying the same storm that had ended Taehyung’s life.
Jungkook.
The sight of him made Taehyung’s blood run cold. Yet his heart betrayed him, thundering in his chest.
Jeon Jungkook
(with a bow, formal yet warm) Your Highness. The council awaits. Shall I escort you?
Taehyung clenched his fists, forcing back the tremor in his voice.
Taehyung (P.V.O.)
This time… I will write the ending.
Kim Taehyung
Hope you will like the story
Jeon Jungkook
Like
Subscribe
And don’t forget to comment
The Prince Who Returned
Morning, Royal Palace Courtyard
The courtyard gleamed with dew, lanterns extinguished after a long night. Servants bustled, their voices hushed as the royal guard marched in formation. The air was heavy with incense and secrets.
Prince Taehyung walked slowly across the stone path, his robe a cascade of ivory and gold. He moved with grace, but every step felt like a war inside him. The memory of steel piercing his chest still lingered, phantom pain flaring beneath the silk.
But no one else knew. To them, he was simply the same quiet prince. A pawn. A flower blooming in shadows.
Only Taehyung knew the truth.
He had died here once. And now he had returned.
Jeon Jungkook
(approaching, formal but soft) Your Highness.
Taehyung turned. The sight of him nearly stole the breath from his lungs. Crown Prince Jungkook, clad in black and silver armor, stood tall—an image of strength and control. His eyes, deep and unreadable, flickered with something softer when they landed on Taehyung.
For an instant, Taehyung’s chest ached. Memories clawed up—laughter under moonlight, kisses in hidden gardens, the blade through his heart.
But he forced a faint smile.
Kim Taehyung
Crown Prince. You honor me with your presence.
Jeon Jungkook
(studying him) It’s rare to see you so early. You usually avoid the council’s… sharp tongues.
Kim Taehyung
(quietly, a hint of steel beneath his softness) Perhaps it is time I stopped avoiding them.
Jungkook tilted his head, the faintest shadow of a smile crossing his lips.
Jeon Jungkook
Then allow me to stand beside you.
Taehyung hesitated. The warmth in Jungkook’s voice was the same as before—gentle, protective. But now Taehyung knew better. That warmth could turn to fire. Could destroy him.
Still, he nodded.
Taehyung (P.V.O.)
If fate places you at my side again… then so be it. But this time, Jungkook, it will be on my terms.
The council chamber was vast, its pillars rising like silent judges. Nobles lined the sides, their silken robes whispering as they gossiped.
At the head sat Prince Namjoon, Taehyung’s elder brother—calm, unreadable, with scrolls spread before him. His sharp gaze flicked from Taehyung to Jungkook, suspicion in his eyes.
Kim Namjoon
(coolly) Taehyung. You seldom attend these meetings. To what do we owe this change of heart?
Kim Taehyung
bowed slightly.
(measured, polite) Perhaps I’ve grown tired of silence.
Murmurs rippled through the hall. Some nobles smirked, others frowned. In his past life, Taehyung remembered—this was the day they began planting seeds against him, branding him weak and useless.
Not this time.
When a councilman sneered—
Councilman
A prince should know his place. The arts are charming, but wars are not won by paint and poetry—
Kim Taehyung
eyes lifted, steady, cold.
And wars are not won by arrogance, either.
The hall stilled. Even Namjoon’s lips curved slightly, as if amused.
From the corner, Taehyung caught Jungkook watching him with quiet intensity. Pride? Curiosity? Or suspicion? He couldn’t tell.
The day’s weight pressed down as Taehyung stood alone on the balcony. The gardens below glowed with twilight. For a moment, he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of lilies.
Jeon Jungkook
voice came from behind.
(quiet) You surprised them today.
Kim Taehyung
didn’t turn.
Did I?
Jeon Jungkook
(closer now, tone low) You surprised me.
Silence stretched between them. The same silence that had once been filled with touches, with whispers of love. Now it was thick with tension, with ghosts neither could name.
Taehyung’s hands tightened on the railing. He forced his voice steady.
Kim Taehyung
Perhaps you don’t know me as well as you think.
When he finally glanced back, Jungkook was already staring at him, eyes unreadable but burning. For a second, Taehyung felt the pull of gravity between them—familiar, dangerous, impossible to resist.
He looked away.
Taehyung (P.V.O.)
This time, Jungkook… it will be you who falls.
The Seeds of Suspicion
Moonlight spilled through latticed windows, silvering rows of ancient scrolls. The library was deserted except for Prince Taehyung, seated at a carved desk, his slender fingers turning pages with deliberate care.
In his past life, he had avoided these places, leaving politics and strategies to others. Tonight, however, he studied military campaigns, trade routes, and the names of noble houses that would one day betray him.
Every line of ink was a reminder. A weapon he would sharpen.
Taehyung (P.V.O.)
I wasted my first life trusting blindly. This time, I will open my eyes before their daggers find my back.
The doors creaked open.
Namjoon entered, robes trailing like shadow. His sharp gaze immediately fell upon Taehyung.
Kim Namjoon
(raising a brow) You in the library? Has the world shifted?
Kim Taehyung
(without looking up) Good evening, Brother. Am I unwelcome among words?
Kim Namjoon
(approaching, tone cool) Words, no. But you and politics rarely crossed paths before. What changed?
Taehyung closed the scroll slowly, meeting Namjoon’s probing stare.
Kim Taehyung
(soft smile) Perhaps I’ve grown tired of being underestimated.
Namjoon studied him a moment longer, suspicion flickering like firelight in his eyes. He said nothing more, only giving a faint nod before leaving.
But Taehyung knew. His brother was watching now.
Training Grounds, Morning
The clang of swords filled the courtyard. Soldiers sparred, sweat glistening under the sun. Among them, Commander Hoseok barked orders, his voice sharp but his smile quick when he saw Taehyung approaching
Hoseok
(grinning) Prince Taehyung? The battlefield doesn’t usually see your robes.
Kim Taehyung
(calmly) Perhaps the battlefield should get used to me.
Gasps rose among the soldiers as Taehyung lifted a practice sword. His grip was firm, though unpolished. Hoseok hesitated, then stepped forward.
Hoseok
(testing) Very well. Let’s see what the prince is made of.
Their blades met. At first, Taehyung stumbled under Hoseok’s swift strikes, but his eyes never wavered. In his past life, he’d been too timid to touch steel. Now, he pushed back with stubborn force, sweat dripping down his temples.
The soldiers whispered. Some scoffed. Others looked impressed.
From the balcony above, Jungkook leaned silently against the railing, arms crossed. His dark eyes followed every movement.
When Taehyung’s blade finally slipped from his hands, clattering to the ground, Hoseok chuckled and offered a hand.
Hoseok
Not bad, Your Highness. You lasted longer than I thought.
Taehyung accepted the hand but noticed Jungkook’s gaze. That same intense stare, like a flame that threatened to consume him.
Later that day, Taehyung sat beneath a blossoming cherry tree, brushing petals from his lap. Jimin arrived, carrying tea, his gentle smile easing the day’s weight.
Park Jimin
(sitting beside him) Everyone’s whispering. About how you spoke in council. About how you trained today.
Kim Taehyung
(quietly) Let them whisper. A prince must either be ignored or feared. I’ve had enough of being ignored.
Park Jimin
studied him with concern.
(softly) You’ve changed, Taehyung.
Taehyung’s fingers tightened around his cup. He forced a smile, but his voice carried an edge.
Kim Taehyung
(low) Perhaps I was always like this… just too blind to see it.
Jungkook’s Chambers, Night
Candlelight flickered across maps spread on Jungkook’s desk. His jaw tightened as he recalled Taehyung’s defiance in the council, his stubbornness in the training yard.
Jeon Jungkook
(to himself): He’s different. Bolder. What are you hiding, Taehyung?
The flame danced in his eyes, as if the prince across the hall was no longer just a delicate flower to protect—but a mystery he could not ignore.
Download NovelToon APP on App Store and Google Play
