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the set of twin door shut behind (y/n) making her only route forward
(y/n) put on a face of courage before going behind a shelf of books her finger trailing on their dusty spines
(y/n) chose a rather heavy book with a emerald green cover the lettering was scratched off as it was very old
a smile grew upon (y/n) face old books were always the best in her opinion for they have lived through the worst and best of times of
someone's life opening the book careful she read the beginnings of the books prologue her feet carrying her off to the windowsill
that was built on the corner of the room flowered with pillows she slowly sat down captured in the books pages
a young man watched the woman's movements his eyes never leaving her figure matching her steps until she sat upon the comfortable
satin pillows the servants had just fluffed this morning he hadn't noticed what hung on her neck
but he did notice she was a servant his eyes had never feel upon the palace only accepts servants from the oldest bloodline
and the young girl was not an elder she must be one of their children
for only the servants and himself we're allowed in this room if another person's boot shall ever touch these persian rugs
they would be hung on the spot a devilish smile grew on the young mans face as he watched her through the crevasses of books that
we're stacked beside each other 'she can read' it was a peculiar site indeed a servant that could read the young man approached the girl
(y/n) finally realized she was being watched she began to raise her head
when a deep voice spoke "halt" (y/n) froze seeing a pair of newly shined black boots he put his finger under my chin I rose my head
(y/n) heart sped up as she looked into a pair of dark night eyes (y/n) smiled at the young man finally she thought
the man peered his eyes at the woman she was smiling she should be trembling in fear
the man sat down next to the girl taking the book out of her grasp "her favorite" he spoke rubbing the cover
that's right no one dared to touch his mother's favorite book no one dared to touch it just like seokjin was protective of
her room namjoon was the same way about the strips of paper that the woman he most admired adored
"who are you ?" (y/n) smiled wider at the boy's question looking up the sunlit ceiling
"who am I" (y/n) laughed looking back down at her finger tips "nobody" she softly spoke
looking back in the eyes of the man "who are you ?" interesting very interesting indeed the man thought "Kim namjoon the second in line to the throne of the land you live on" (y/n) sighed
"so I have the right person then" (y/n) turned twords the man reaching out her hand
