Royal Duty [Minjoon]

III

Jimin closed his eyes, sighing as deeply yet as silently as he managed, to prevent being heard by the large crowd in his presence. After one final moment of mental preparation, he proceeded to walk over to the dance floor, grabbing the hand of one of the many anticipating women. He plastered a fake smile on his lips as he took the hand of a girl, her smile lit up when their hands intertwined. The two exchanged bows, their frames slowly moving in beat to the music.

As he looked into her eyes, trying his very best to focus on either her or the orchestra, the prince was still not able to prevent his mind from wandering. Maybe it was his many years of training which caused it, but despite his mind no longer being present, his smile and eyes still remained soft. Body moving instinctively to the music.

He was not yet ready. This was the thought which he couldn't help but let consume his mind. No matter how much he tried to think positively about the matter, he could only conclude that he did not want to marry. It was not these women in particular that he did not want to spend the remnants of his life with, it was nobody. At least nobody that he yet knew of.

Nonetheless, was he well aware of his fate and duties. This ball, as well as the planned marriage, was more than a mere responsibility to continue the royal heir line. Though he knew it was inevitable, the thought still made an uneasiness crawl inside of him. The fact that he had no say in this matter was what angered him the very most. The land had to have a king, and his father would one day die. He understood this issue. When this happened Jimin would have to take over, would have to get his own children so that the cycle could continue into its own never ending loop. Even though he understood, he felt that it was too soon to pick his entire future. Being a prince had entirely stripped him of the opportunities of a normal childhood. Instead he always had duties to perform, lessons to attend and skills to perfect. Marriage was yet another thing which had forced itself onto the list of inevitable scenarios that he could not escape. He simply wanted to make his own timeline.

The prince sighed, mind attempting to go back to focus on the music and the girl he was dancing with. He tried his best to follow the beat of the music and to dance with the girl as well as he could. Despite his attempts, the restraining thoughts took a toll on him, and he lost the rhythm. After a while, which the prince spent staring plainly into the air, Jimin finally realized that he had stopped dancing.

"I'm sorry milady, but could I please excuse myself for a moment?" Though he asked, the royal didn't wait for an answer. He hurriedly walked out of the room, needing to collect himself once more.

During his time, the castle had had a lot of parties to determine his future wife. This one was different, this one was clearly labeled 'the final' ball, this was his last chance to choose a bride before he would be forced into an arranged marriage. He really wasn't ready, he was only sixteen years of age. Two years younger than the deadline his father had previously given him. For this reason, among many, he really didn't understand the rush in his father's actions.

One last exhale left his parted lips, it faded slowly in the echoing room. With this final breath of recollection, the prince once again stepped into the ballroom. A smile on his face in case he attracted attention. A smile he very much hoped would hide the fear in his heart.

The evening dragged on into countless hours. Through the seemingly eternal ball, the prince had danced with every single one of the awaiting girls. Despite his effort, this ball had been no different from those he had previously attended. He once again did not find himself attracted to any of them.

__

"So, what's your decision?" The king asked the following evening, eyeing his son carefully, awaiting his answer.
The son gulped, yet met his father's eyes with a strong determination. "Father, I really do not wish to marry. Why must we rush what is going to happen?" The king sighed at his son's reply.

"You have until tomorrow. If you are to still not have an answer, then I will simply choose myself." He spoke with finality. Jimin bit his lip, looking at the king one last time, before he dismissed himself from the room.

There was a storm of uncertainty raging inside of his mind as he left the throne room. He had hoped for a different outcome. Not expected, but at least hoped that his father would recognize his words and understand. Through the blur, the royal found himself rushing towards the dungeons, seeking the same source that had calmed him down over the past two days. He found it strange that he would want a stranger to comfort him, but he felt all the weight lift off his shouldersand a smile forming, every time he thought about the imprisoned man.

The cool air from the dungeons hugged his body as he walked past the many cells. Ones of which he did not care for on this day, as he was headed for one in particular.

After a few more steps, the man he was looking for came into sight. Oddly enough, Jimin could instantly feel the tightness in his chest lessen while looking at the figure of the other male. His back was facing the bars, and he was laying crouched in a ball on the floor of the cell. It looked as though he was sleeping, and though he did not particularly wish to awake him, the prince still selfishly wished to converse with him. "Namjoon?" The prince spoke quietly, hoping not to wake him up if he was indeed sleeping.

Luckily it seemed as though he hadn't been, and Namjoon slowly turned around, and sat up.

"My lord." He spoke, his voice, rough, hoarse and barely audible. Jimin was shocked to see the appearance of the man behind the bars. The faint color that had been on his face the day prior, was now completely gone, the man could now have easily been mistaken for a ghost. His eyes were glossy, and he seemed to be struggling to keep them open.

"Namjoon, are you sick?" The prince asked, though it was already obvious to him. He crouched down in front of the cell, reaching his hand out to touch the other man's forehead. Meeting his outstretched hand was a very obvious fever.

"This is not good." He whispered to himself. He carefully removed his hand then backed away from the cell a little.

"Guards!" He proceeded to yell. Shaking the walls of the stone based dungeon. There was a hint of panic lacing his voice. This, he could not care less for at the moment. He was fully aware that if the other got sick while simultaneously being refused to eat and be trapped in a dungeon all day, it would only lead to death. Even his father would not let a man without a death sentence succumb under his care, right?

Not long after, one of the prison guards came rushing down, an expression of determination on his face that told Jimin that the armored man was ready to take on any order from the royal.

"Open up this man's cage so I can tend to him." Jimin ordered. The guard's face turned into that of confusion and surprise, but nonetheless he still did what the higher positioned had asked of him, and unlocked the cell.

Jimin ran in quickly, putting a hand on Namjoon's forehead again to make sure he had not been mistaken the first time. He was fully aware that this could cause him trouble with his father, but he was sure the king would understand his reasoning. Though had to admit it was odd to feel such an urge to protect and help a man he was barely acquainted with, he couldn't help the desperation he felt to assist Namjoon.

"Call a doctor, and my father." Jimin spoke to the guard, who was quick to take his leave to fulfill the royal's request.