An Ode to Maehwa | kth

Chapter 32: The Beacon

The silence fell yet again, Seokjin's domineering stare unchanging. And then finally, before a suffocating air could choke everybody present, he opened his mouth. "Dying?" A pause. "Do you think you can escape your crime so easily?"

His cold voice traced your spines, sending chills to your bones. Nothing could explain how this man, who's gaze as that of a freshly sharpened knife, was the same as the man who embraced his wife fondly just a moment ago.

"I won't execute you. Neither will you be banished," he announced. "You are to dedicate to your duty by my side, tormented at your own crime for your entire lifetime," Seokjin condemned sternly.

With that, he left the place quickly alongside his personal servants who seem shrinking after his fierce peremptory state.

Yoongi beside you clicked his tongue in frustration, leaving the place too, which you quickly followed after. You glanced back once at Hoseok who was still kneeling on one knee, his eyes fixed on the ground, unmoving.

The cases reverberated in the governance hall the next morning. How the Crown Prince was attacked, and how he was saved by the Second Prince. How the Crown Prince's wife, Kim Misun was targeted. The news astired the room full of officials, unsettling murmur enveloping the whole room. The Emperor looked furious, and the fresh redness on his cheeks made him look alive compared to the ashen faces he had carried recently.

Seokjin stood still in his daily setting, betraying no emotion, while Namjoon next to him looked disturbed, his eyes fixed on his feet.

"We will hunt down anyone who tries to disrupt our empire!" The Emperor declared, standing up gallantly, riling up the spirit of the room. Only he didn't know that the foe breathed closer than he thought.

—Late night, at consort's residence

The night was growing warmer and Namjoon looked out from the window, night of the courtyard dark with only a few flames dancing in the summer breeze, night sky bearing an almost full moon brighter, contrasting the earth. He drew in a deep breath. Warm, moist air settled in his lungs, accompanying his strangely calm heart.

He exhaled briefly before he called, "Lady, I'm here."

Soon, the door creaked open, revealing a side profile of an aged woman under moonlight. He quietly took a seat opposite her, prepared for what was coming.

"My son," she started, her voice disgustingly sweet. "I am disappointed in you."

Namjoon sat there quiet, his eyes dropped on his clenched fists.

"I have arranged the best stage for you to eliminate Seokjin disguising it as an accident...is His Highness the Crown Prince I'm seeing a ghost?"

The incident of that day was an utmost confidential information which was only supposed to stay in the Governance Hall. It was only supposed to be shared within the officials and nobody else, because the news involving the assassination of the heir would only throw their people into chaos of anxiety and distrust. However, it wasn't surprising that Lady Myungok knew the details—the heroism of Namjoon saving Seokjin—as snakes were found everywhere even in the supposedly renowned Governance Hall, ready to slither and gnaw on the throne once they got the opportunity they were so parched on.

"My son, what are you planning to do? You have failed a great chance, and now what do you suppose we do?"

Namjoon didn't answer his mother's question, and instead asked, "were you the one who sent someone to kill Kim Misun?"

Lady Myungok blinked, and answered as if it was the most obvious question on earth, "yes?"

"Why did you? Your aim is to get the throne, what can a harmless woman do?"

The Lady looked at Namjoon, her eyes full of pitiful disappointment. "You have no idea, but that woman has a royal fetus in her womb."

For the first time, he looked at his mother, widening his eyes in disbelief, which she took misguidedly.

"Yes, yes, my son. If she's pregnant with a boy, even if Seokjin dies, we still won't get the throne. Your mother was only making sure to nip off the unwanted buds to remove all uncertainties," she drawled, curving her strikingly red lips crescent, reeking of pride.

Namjoon felt a surge of sour acid swelling up to his throat. If his hand did not cover his mouth, he would have thrown up right then. It was an instant rejection before his brain could comprehend that someone—his mother—would do as much as wipe out an unborn child.

"Now, son, you better have a good plan on how to get that throne?"

He had resolved to one answer since that time in the forest when Seokjin had almost lost his life. Deep in the forest, he was left alone as other assassins followed their way back to kill the only target. Seokjin was already surrounded by five. And now three adding up, there was no way he'd survive. Namjoon only had to wait until everything was over, and pretend like he was a victim too.

Back then, he probably shouldn't have closed his eyes for a prayer. What replayed at the back of his lids was all the moments he had spent with his blood-bound brother.

"Your hyung will always be there to support you!"

"What is wrong with being hopeful?"

"I feel so assured to have you."

"I think our Empire will be invincible if I have you covering my back."

"I'm proud to have you as my brother, Namjoon."

Although he shut his eyes in darkness, all he could see was a glow of the man, that only the blessed one can possess. So bright, so daunting, so dazzling.

Namjoon had known from the beginning. Since the first day he had met him—back when he was so oblivious to the destiny he was tangled in—who was attaining a bright smile derived from selfless love towards his younger brother. And in that encounter he surrendered—to the innate dignity radiating from him that kept him chasing after.

His trembling fingers clutched on the grip of his sword. He wasn't ready to lose his beacon. Not in this lifetime, or the next—no, as long as his soul breathed and this world stood.

A/N:

Slay Namjoon, slayyy

If anyone is confused, it's a flashback from "He had resolved~" to the last part.