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Jin packs his things slowly. he doesn't have much-two changes of clothes, one cheap copper pair of earrings he'd let Hoseok buy him for his name day one year, replacements for the half-worn soles of his shoes. he'll be walking the whole journey, presumably, so he makes his pack as light as he can.
the morning of their departure, he bakes the travel bread with his father. the order had come down a few days ago, a list of what the prince's party would need for the three days of travel. most of it has been sent up to the party already, but Jin bakes the bread and pastries fresh.
for the few hours they spend working in silence, through the familiar rhythm of the morning, Jin almost thinks his father is going to let him go without saying anything. most of the other kitchen workers have at least murmured a word of luck, offered a salacious wink, begged for information about the prince when he returns. his father hasn't brought it up since the night he'd gotten the invitation.
before he leaves, after he's pressed kisses against Eunjoon and Minyoung's foreheads despite their flailing and sounds of disgust, his father stops him at the door.
"stay safe," he says, after a long moment of silent appraisal. "don't get yourself hurt."
it's as close to a blessing as Jin could hope for. he leaves his father with a deep bow of thanks, and leaves the kitchen behind.
the sacks of bread and two boxes of pastries weigh Jin down as he makes his way to the carriage house. there's enough bread to last, and one pastry each for the members of the party, with three left over for the prince himself. it will make a good impression, Jin thinks, but anxiety still turns his stomach at the thought of traveling with the prince, and his attendants, and his personal guard.
the ball feels like a figment of Jin's imagination. there, at least, he had the facade of importance. if not any kind of equality to the prince, then at least the assurance that he looked like someone respectable.
as a false lordling, Jin had been brave enough to look his prince in the eye. as a kitchen boy, he feels lower than dirt.
between the stables and the carriage house, the prince's guard are readying their horses. Jin stalls for a moment, until he sees Jungkook's familiar face weaving between soldiers, elegant hands petting the horses and cooing sweetly at them as he goes. Jin takes a deep breath, tugs his bangs securely over his eyes, and starts forward.
"Jungkook-ssi, i'm Kim Seokjin," he murmurs. he bows quickly, keeps his voice low, doesn't look Jungkook in the eye. "Master Min sent word i would be joining you?"
"oh, the lord's friend," Jungkook says. Jin risks a glance up; Jungkook looks kind enough, though a little harried. "you brought the rest of the food?"
"yes, sir." he offers the pastries out first, the two thin wood boxes, lined with wax paper. "these are for His Highness and the entourage."
Jungkook lifts the lid of the top box, peers in to see the small tarts, topped with heavy cream and thinly-sliced strawberries, and his face cracks into an exhausted-looking smile.
