"I can't resist temptation. That is my curse."
To be the future wife of the Grand Master of the Temple means a life of status, riches, and stability. It means you no longer have to pretend to be a boy, doing criminal acts to take care of your ailin...
The assistants of the high temple did as they were told, hoisting the unconscious Fyostian soldier on the cot. His breath was weak, his skin pale from malnutrition.
"The broth from the kitchen," Jimin said over his shoulder. "Along with the bread. When the king is not paying attention, do the same for the others."
The assistants hesitated. "But Teacher –"
Jimin looked over his shoulder with determination, not wavering in his stare. After a pause, the assistants bowed, disappearing from the room to do as they were told.
Jimin continued to look over the unconscious man, checking his vitals and temperature. The man was cold and damp, his skin freezing at the touch. With a grunt, Jimin got heavy blankets, setting them on top of the man.
As the blankets were layered on top of him, the man wrestled his eyes awake.
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"Where –" the man started.
"Don't move," Jimin commanded. "You are not well at the moment."
The man's eyes widened. He tried to sit up in the bed. "I cannot sit –"
"You will. I have commanded it."
The guard froze, clearly not understanding what to do. But the glaze in his eyes meant that he was struggling to think clearly all together, and Jimin took the opportunity of confusion to force a hand on the soldier's shoulder to lay him back down.
"You are in my care now," Jimin said softly. "Rest. The king will not find you here."
To this, the man's breath panted slightly before slowing. It didn't go unnoticed. The king of Fyost would not accept a soldier resting. The king was inhumane at best. Jimin knew this.
He remembered it.
Jimin sighed harshly, his stomach twisting. He pushed back his memories as the assistants came back with broth. They helped the soldier to a position between sitting and lying, so that he could drink the broth, keeping him wrapped in blankets to warm him.
Nothing was said as the bowl was drained. Jimin only watched the soldier carefully, waiting for his color to return.
"What's your name, soldier?" Jimin asked.
The man's eyes widened slightly in fear. "It's Seokjin, your grace."
Jimin smiled. "You can call me Master Jimin. Or teacher. But no grace, please."
The man nodded slowly, eyes still partly glazed.
"Tell your comrades when the king is asleep to come to the kitchen," Jimin continued. "We will provide them meals and pack them food for their journey."
Seokjin's eyes widened more. "Your grace, I couldn't ask you —"
"Teacher," Jimin corrected.
"King Jungkook would be furious if he finds out –"
