"do you... trust me?" it's a low whisper, the king's soft lips pressed against the stuttering pulse in your throat. but you think, or maybe you hope, the implications are trying to delve much deeper into your heart. regardless, your answer has never...
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A bundle of incense clutched in a tight fist, Yoongi stands in front of the funeral chamber with trepidation trickling in his chest.
He doesn't know how long he has been standing here, only that the ministers are undoubtedly staring at him, waiting for his next command. It's a feeling he still has yet to fully get accustomed to, but he must learn to take it. He must.
"Open the doors," he says, thankful that his voice doesn't shake as eunuchs rush forward to do his bidding. Just beyond the creaking doors and stone threshold lies the body of the king. Not my father, he reminds himself. That position had to be earned. Too late now. Yoongi bites his bottom lip and forces his feet forward.
It's over quickly.
Standing before the raised platform, Yoongi holds his spine as straight as it will go. "Jeonha. I am assuming the royal title as monarch over this country," he announces, letting his voice ring out to the people behind him. Then he lights every stick of incense he holds with one smooth movement. Wisps of smoke curl into the air like the rapid coil of a snake as he stabs the tapered ends into the prepared pot, taking one last long look at the man before he decides that he's had enough.
Walking fast, it takes him but minutes to reach the throne room. Here he finds every occupant of the palace, regardless of rank, waiting for him and it makes his pulse pick up. He gives a deceptively casual pass over the sea of faces, but doesn't quite find the one he seems to always be looking for, so he keeps going.
Up the stairs, through the doors, Yoongi approaches the seat with a kind of incredulity that it really now belongs to him. All those people crowded and crammed outside those doors, all the ones across the entire goddamn country are now his to look after and if he fucks up...
"Yoongi." The queen's voice is soft, drawing his attention to her place beside the throne. She so rarely uses his name outside of their private chambers and it reminds him that not everything has to change, that some things might always be the same. "I'll be here to support you every step of the way." He can still see remnants of tears in her eyes, but her shaky smile is brave.
"...Thank you," he whispers. "Thank you, mom."
He spins around, catching in his peripheral vision the navy of the robes that he will never wear again after today, for he will soon trade them for the royal red of a ruler. With his stare trained on the horizon, he takes a seat on the throne.
"Long live the king! Long live the king!"
The traditional chants ring out across the courtyard, carrying far with the whirling wind and all these emotions are stuck in his tight throat as he watches them bow before him again and again and he wishes he could have had more time but there has never been room for regret in this court and so he decides, tells himself, reminds himself, to have none.
He is king.
That night, his bones aching from the strain of walking around the entire day performing rites, Yoongi wants nothing more than to crawl beneath his blankets and not think about anything for the next several hours. But just as he is about to close his eyes, a shadow appears at his door.
"Jeonha. Jeonha."
Yoongi suppresses the urge to throw his pillow in that direction.
"What?"
"May I enter?"
"If you promise to leave quickly."
The door opens, revealing Eunuch Kim's face contorted in worry as he hurries inside. In his hands, he holds an unfurled letter that he hurriedly thrusts at Yoongi. "Read this, jeonha. It was delayed due to the coronation so I only just received it. I came right away."
Yoongi grabs the parchment. His frown deepens as he scans the inked characters, expression going from annoyed to confused to shocked in less than a minute.
"What? No." He reads the letter again, biting down on his lip. "He didn't. There is no possibility he arranged this. Is this true? Is it real?"
"It is." Eunuch Kim bows low, as if that could make up for the news he just brought. "I'm sorry, jeonha. The woman you are to marry will arrive in just a few days time."
