Frozen Throne, Burning Heart
A Caged Bird in a Golden Palace
The night air still carried the scent of incense and lantern smoke when Taehyung was led through the towering gates of the royal palace. The echoes of the festival still lingered in the streets, but for him, the world had already changed.
The moment the king’s decree was announced, his fate was sealed.
Taehyung walked in silence, flanked by royal guards, their spears glinting in the dim torchlight. His heart pounded, but his face remained calm—a performer’s skill. He had spent years learning to control his expressions, masking fear behind grace.
But now, with every step that took him deeper into the palace, he wondered… Was this a blessing or a curse?
The Palace of Ice and Silence
The palace was nothing like the vibrant city streets he had known all his life. Here, silence ruled. The air was cold, even beneath the golden glow of lanterns. The servants moved like ghosts, their heads bowed, their footsteps unheard against the polished floors.
The walls were adorned with intricate murals of past kings, their stern gazes watching over the halls like silent judges. The grandeur was undeniable, yet there was something suffocating about it—like a cage too beautiful to escape from.
A young servant, no older than Taehyung, approached him with a quick bow.
servant seojoon
This way, Master Kim.
Taehyung followed, his fingers tightening against the silk of his robe. The title sounded foreign to him—Master Kim. A mere dancer, now part of the royal court?
The servant led him to a chamber, more luxurious than anything he had ever seen. The bed was vast, the sheets embroidered with golden threads. The windows overlooked the moonlit gardens, where pale cherry blossoms swayed in the breeze.
servant seojoon
This is where you will stay from now on
the servant said quietly.
servant seojoon
A royal dancer does not leave the palace unless the king commands it.
Before Taehyung could respond, the servant bowed again and exited, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
He turned toward the window, pressing his fingers against the cool wooden frame. Beyond the walls of the palace, his old life still existed—his friends, the streets where he once danced, the freedom of the wind against his skin.
But that life was no longer his.
Hours passed before the summons came.
servant
The King has requested your presence.
Taehyung’s heart clenched. He had not seen Jungkook since the festival, since that piercing gaze had locked onto him, unreadable and intense.
Now, he would stand before him as his dancer.
With careful hands, he adjusted his robes. The soft white silk draped over him like mist, flowing with every movement. His hair had been tied back neatly, a few loose strands framing his delicate features.
If he was to face the king, he would do so with dignity.
The walk to the throne room felt endless. Guards and ministers cast glances at him, their expressions unreadable. Some seemed indifferent, others intrigued.
The throne room was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows. Jungkook sat upon his golden seat, his dark robes blending into the vast expanse of the chamber. He looked just as he had the night before—cold, untouchable.
Taehyung’s breath stilled.
Those piercing eyes settled on him once more.
Then, Jungkook’s voice rang through the chamber.
No pleasantries, no introductions. Just a command.
Taehyung swallowed, lowering his gaze before stepping forward. The music began—soft, slow, unfamiliar.
And for the second time, he danced beneath the king’s gaze.
But this time, he knew—this was not a performance for the people. This was something else entirely.
His expression did not change, but something in the air shifted.
Something neither of them understood yet.
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