After the increasingly frequent rebel attacks on the royal palace, I had grown to be wary and distrustful of everyone around me. Except for a special few - there were none I could really trust within the Palace. After all, who knows? The next butler might have shown up to take me hostage in return for fulfilling his demands. Following the latest Royal Betrayal, father has been especially paranoid, refusing to accept any new staff or even royal ambassadors. I doubt any of our allies are going to help in the event of a crisis.

Power is all about the people. As soon as the people stop trusting in us, we lose our influence and authority. By setting up a wall between ourselves and our subjects, we're only certifying our downfall and yet Father stubbornly continues to cement this wall. I've made substantial efforts to try and salvage the situation but nothing I can do will mend this falling relationship.

In the past few attacks, I had come across quite a few of these rebels, most of whom were middle-aged men with unkempt beards, scarred cheeks, blistered hands, rumpled hair, over worn clothes and a rather thick northern accent. All this was just further proof of the miserly condition of the Eights but since when has Father ever considered my pleas on the unjustness of the Caste System.

Quite unlike my expectations, the man before my eyes now was vastly different. Maybe it was because he contradicted the stereotype in my head but there was just this something about this man that fascinated me, captivated me, and drew me in.

One might think it to be his soft masculine beauty - the cherubically round face yet finely chiseled jaw, sparkling hazel eyes with a mesmerising double lid, silky brown locks which I so dearly wanted to ruffle up and caress. But no, it wasn't just his ethereally good-looks, it was his aura - his demeanor, the confidence in his poise, the haughty arrogant glint in his eye, the swift smooth movements of his tongue over his luscious lips, all while his eyebrows are bent challengingly and head cocked to the side.

A brusque voice rudely shattered my pleasant daydreams and before I could pinpoint the source, Jimin led me to the throne in the centre of the room. I could feel his eyes on my bare back the entire time - ruthlessly cold and calculating.

Father had had the Court Room redecorated about a month back. He called it preparations for certain 'special guests'. Not understanding what he meant, I just shook it off. I had to say, he had outdone himself—even with his bizarre sense of taste—with a red carpet leading upto the Throne and golden sashes decorating the cream walls. A small pulpit had been arranged in front of it from where Gavril could conduct The Report live every Friday at 8 pm. It was a way of maintaining our 'connection' with the citizens, attendance was compulsory. We discussed upcoming business affairs and recently passed laws. It served to make the people feel more involved in the system.

After seating myself comfortably, I returned his haughty arrogant glare but was secretly impressed when I saw that he neither grew wary nor uncomfortable under my piercing gaze. I decided to wait till he chose to speak and with all the comfort I could possibly derive—from sitting in my stuffy dress—reclined back onto the throne. A few minutes had passed and he still didn't yield. Deciding that I had much more important things to do than engage in a staring competition with a mutinous rebel, I chose to break the silence.

"Well?"

Was I mistaken or did he take a deep breath before continuing. His eyes swept over my figure again for probably the 1000th time today as he was about to speak.

"Do you plan on ogling me all day long now?"

"Huh-" His eyes suddenly felt caught—returning back to my face—and he swiftly drew in a deep breath, allowing his confidence to flood back in.

"Excuse me but-"

"You're excused," I wittily retorted.

"I-...I beg your pardon?"

"You're excused." I slowly repeated, feeling myself regain my cockiness but at that moment, I couldn't be bothered to give two shits about that.

He stared dumbfounded and from the corner of my eye, I could make out Jimin turning his face away from Jungkook as an attempt to stifle the incoming laughter. I continued to wordlessly eye him and on seeing him lose his arrogance and grow uncomfortable, I felt bad and decided to speak up.

"Well, you were saying?"

The man in front suddenly seemed to regain his lost conceit and re-impersonated his haughty alter ego.

"Why thank you for interrupting. As I was saying, where is your father? I asked to meet the King, not some obsequious minion."

Oh right. Men and their huge-ass egos. His stuttering past-self was only ever going to ask for the King and definitely not deny any of the 'obsequious minion's' scandalous accusations. Obsequious Minion, my foot. I'm probably the last person in the State who'd ever submit to my Father, after the rebels of course.  

"Mmm, well too bad, this 'obsequious equerry' is the only one his majesty has coerced into attending this convocation for apparently, she has all the time in the world to listen to the woes of a troubled subject." I raised my brow tauntingly at his less than polite remark and hoped that I sounded confident enough.

His cold glare only got colder as I finished my little tirade before reluctantly saying, "Yes, well the business I have arrived to discuss requires people with real authority to take a much-needed decision. I'm not abandoning work for no reason and I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't waste my time."

God, this man. Get off your high-horse and realise that I don't want to be here anymore than you do. "As much as I'd love to squabble over how much real authority I possess, I too have my own royal duties to attend to. What work do you do?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Royal duties, what a wonderful excuse!" He snickered. "More like wave to the public from on top of your latest yacht."

Oh no he didn't. "You seem rather relaxed and unperturbed about openly insulting your future queen."

"So what, you'll throw me in prison now? Like the rest of the people who stand for justice? Can't stand criticism, can we?"

"There is a humongous difference between constructive criticism and hate. But Alas! The great time-waster cannot be bothered to concern himself with reading a dictionary."

He seemed rather taken aback by my unpredictable riposte. Didn't think I was capable of one. Well, that's what you get for underestimating your opponent.

Although I must hand it to him, it took him about two seconds to realise he was gaping at me like a fool with his mouth open and quickly regained his composure, once again assuming the cold-hearted emotionless mask. He opened his mouth to reply but I cut him to it.

"You never told me about the kind of work you do," I said, my gaze unbending as I attempted to belittle him with my stare.

Soon realising that he had little choice other than to answer the question, he finally said, "I work independently on my own little farm, a little north of here."

I could feel his dom aura get irked by the cocky smirk on my face. Now that wasn't so hard, was it? "A seven, I see."

"Indeed, you do. Now if we could actually move on to some real business and get this over with." 

I didn't want to end so soon; no, I was enjoying this far too much. Nonetheless, years of Dominie's rigorous training paid off and I forced myself to answer, "Yes, what ails Your Lordship?"

He too must have felt the sarcasm dripping out of that statement and only pursed his lips in return.

"The caste system."

Oh. Turns out, this man actually had real business to talk about.

"And what about it?"

He continued to purse his lips tighter, evidently displeasured by my apparent lack of interest.

"It's an unjust bigoted tack of ruling, you're just trying to define our lives since birth. Innocent souls are simply born into this world, at the head or the bottom, all based on people's choice in mating partners and are forced to serve the stupidest hierarchy in existence or die resisting. We need change."

DAMN. So Mr. I don't Give A Shit About You actually gives a shit about me, or at least his people.

"Not to mention the foolish rules regarding celibacy. Who I fuck and when I do it is none of your business. And might I remind you of the egregious laws on inter-caste alliances."

How does he do it? Switching his vocab from a handsomely pesky street rascal to a highly-polished and sophisticated gentleman within mere seconds.

"The system's old, outdated and quite frankly—utterly useless. It's time for a rebirth of free thinking that has been fettered in the chains of authority for far too long. We need to cast off this yoke of enslavement to others' will in order to establish liberty, freedom and democracy for all."

"Do you preach for a second renaissance? Would you like to re-invent the printing press perhaps?" I questioned skeptically, internally giggling at his choice of words. But his next statement shut me up.

"If that's what it takes then, Yes." A vague answer that didn't reject any of my humorous proposals was his only answer, defiant eyes locked on mine as he chose to completely ignore the second half of my well-justified question.

Well, well, well, he does have quite a lot of big dreams. I could understand where he's coming from, sounds pretty sexually frustrated. But the big question remains. "And how do you plan on achieving all this?"

"Dissolve the caste system."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I FINALLY DID IT LOL, I HAD WRITTEN THIS CHAP LONGGGGGGGGGGGG BACK BUT THOT I'LL UPLOAD IT TODAY OR TOMRW SINCE I'M TRAVELLING ON FRI, BUT COZ A LOT OF PPL WANTED ME TO UPDATE, TODAY IT IS XDD THO I STILL NEED TO WRITE THE NEXT CHAP- I DIDN'T EVEN START YET LMAOO

HOPE YOU LIKED IT AND DONT FORGET TO COMMENT PLEASE, THEY'RE RLLY RLLY MOTIVATING!! THANKYOUUU AND TAKE CAREE!!!!!

P.S HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE JK EDIT ON THE TOP ;D

YOU RLLY DON'T WANNA KNOW WHAT I SAID THE FIRST TIME I SAW IT LMAOO