"Terribly like terrible, she's the villain
One as sweet as caramel, she's my saint
Think I'm getting butterflies, but it's really
Something telling me to run away"

Inferno - Sun Urban / Bella Porch

🔥

Spice level: 🌶🌶🌶 on a scale of 1-10. Could be more. I've honest to god have never seen this particular type of smut done in this section of wattpad so :/ lol. Unless this is rlly common and I just don't know (sololololo) 

Taehyung
~~~~

It would have been one thing, to hear her fall apart as she said his name only once.

It happened the first night she arrived, and the moment stunned him.

The black haired royal had set up a charmed amplifier. It was only meant to pick up sounds of extreme distress. It would not be removed, for her safety alone.

Taehyung had shot up out of bed, woken out of a deep sleep as he heard whimpers and cries from the amplifier. When he heard the rustle of fabric, and more moans, his instinct to protect went elsewhere.

It could have been a nightmare. Moans of fear or pain often sounded indistinguishable. Only when his name was moaned, a fractured gasp through the amplifier, did the reality set in.

Holy fuck.

The man was not able to fall back asleep after that.

Taehyung had been able to calm down his reciprocal impulses at first, rationalizing it.

It was a simply a compliment. Despite their rivalry, she found him attractive. She had been sheltered in her homeland, no doubt of the affections of men as well. Though the man was choosier than the average person, he had been with several women. Enough to elicit the same reaction.

Nothing he hadn't heard before. Although her voice did have a particularly heady, honey like rasp that sent goosebumps all over his skin.

But, no, she was nothing he'd ever seen.

Of course his opposite was beautiful. Those with Dimidium blood often were. And yet the man had been solely unprepared as the princess walked down the throne room aisle. In a dress that was meant to show her wealth, with a body that could cause a war. Her hair was that of dark chocolate, waving down her back and waist. It was the first thing he noticed, her thick tresses. The way it flowed around her, not as a shield, but as armor.

Then, there was her face. A rounded forehead, thick arched brows, and high cheekbones that caught the light like dew. Large and almond eyes narrowed with suspicion, sharpening the rest of her softness. Black inky lashes dusted her cheeks, skin golden and the color of sienna. Her narrow nose, perched above plum colored lips. A pretty, small bump along the bridge that added to her regality. The shape of her mouth, sharp and yet curved at the bow, above the edge of her swooping jaw and supple chin. Wine and jasmine and the moon personified.

How? He had thought then.

How could one like she exist?

As she got closer, like one moves toward the horizon, he turned to stone.

Her eyes, startling. The color of her own ichor, and the light of the moon. Filled with an intelligence and a will that only gods could've blessed upon her. It was only then, that her intentions to murder him were clear on her face.

She was just as terrifying, as she was riveting.

Like a nightmare incarnate.

"Is this the best the world has to offer?"

It was the only thing he could think to say, to explain why he seemed so off kilter. To look powerful and untouchable to his court. To prove to himself he could do what needed to be done.

Though admittedly, when he took in her molten silver irises, the prince believed that he indeed had made a grievous mistake in bringing her to the kingdom to be his bride.

Because earlier that first night she had not cared as she defied him. The princess had taken his instigating about her lying family, and being ignorant of the curse, in stride. Not cared as she looked in his eyes, and promised to tear his life apart. He was not often moved by others, but her scream as she burst the windows of the thousand year old throne room scorched him. Still, the scorned sacrifice held back that immense power from seeking vengeance. Turning the glass on herself, despite his position as her enemy.

As the man that ruined the image of what she thought herself to be.

And yet, the thought of him made her fall apart. It was something about such a capable person thinking of him, her enemy, in her most vulnerable state. Visceral pleasure filled him, his navel warming. Blood flowing to the place he wished to ignore.

A staunch bout of guilt ripped through him.

He shouldn't want her to want him. He couldn't.

Maybe if it only happened once, the prince of night could've spent his every living moment trying to forget the saccharine dreams she had.

But it was not one night. It was every night.

Since the damned princess arrived, she did not fail to come apart, his name ripped from her throat as she did so. And the man did not fail to fucking hear it.

But of course, he was a royal. Bred and branded with the Kim name and the corresponding responsibilities. His father expected nothing less than maintained self control, carving it into his every action and reaction. Even though his father lacked in that very same trait, he aimed for perfection with his son.

And yet...

Every moment with her was wrought with tension. So poised, unassuming, as she fractured him bit by bit. An insult to his entire being. When she boldly accepted her traditions, and sucked upon his finger, gracefully sitting on his lap.

So, maybe it was inevitable that by the 10th night, he was devoured.

Even though he insulted her in the library, pushing her away. Even though she had been audacious enough to use magic on him. Even though he watched as Jimin and her burned into each other with their gazes.

It was not the advisor's name that was gasping on her lips.

"Taehyung. Taehyung." The sound caressed his sweat covered body, as he awoke panting from his deep sleep.

Her soft murmurs continued.

The man continued to lay in bed, remaining stiff as she screamed out his name from his phantom touch. Trying to calm his shaking breath, and ignore the princess.

I knew I would have to try harder than ever imagined to restrain.

"Taehyung." Her voice rasped, begging throughout the room. Groaned and then finished with a high pitched whine.

It was so different, to how she sounded when she was angry at him. So similar, to show she had been pliant as he kissed and licked across her smooth neck.

His loose pants shifted, as his body hardened without remorse. The man gripped onto his sheets, eyes clenching as he willed himself to think of horrible things. Anything to make the want go away.

Ignore it like you have done every other time.

Tonight it was particularly agonizing to do so.

A terrible ache racked his whole body. To not be able to replace the phantom of himself in her bed.

This, this was torture. If hell existed, Taehyung was sure this would be his punishment. Cursed to be unable to relieve himself, as a siren weaved him a melody. Unable to give her any needed relief.

Taehyung felt like she was practically next to him, as her moans filled his room.

Her gasps of air, the way she spilled herself across her sheets that he so carefully picked out. He could hear her writhing in her bed.

"Fuck Leila." Taehyung groaned angrily, before ripping away the sheets from the lower half of his body.

The man sat up on his bed and turned around, knees hitting his head board. Placing his head against the wall, so that the sounds of her voice reverberated against his heated cheek. His left hand rested shakily on the headboard, gripping at the wood. Bracing himself.

The other desperately pulled aside the band of his waist, his shallow breaths loud as they hit the wall. A low groan leaving his mouth as his hand grabbed onto his hardness.

Thinking of himself behind Leila, as he had been the other night. Arm wrapped around her curved waist, her rounded ass hitting his hips, and her hair falling across his shoulder. Tickling his thighs.

Her eyebrows, scrunched with pleasure. Her kohl lined eyes begging him for more, glassy with want. Lips swollen from her incessant biting habit.

The man closed his eyes, moaning deeply at the image. His hold on himself tightening, as he saw it clearly.

Except this time, his hands would have lifted up the edge of her thin nightgown. He'd be able to watch from above, her nipples peaking, as he dove into her wet center. Feeling her grind against him, as she called out his name.

His dark hair fell into his eyes, as his head lay flat against the wall. It was the only thing holding up his body. The prince's mouth was parted, as he willed himself to attempt at being quiet. Her moans got louder around him, signaling she was close to the peak he apparently brought her to. A crescendo to end the night.

Taehyung imagined turning her around, and laying her back on the bed. Her dark hair spanned around her, insolent eyes shining with both disobedience and surrender. Teasing him.

Lifting up her dress to expose her navel. Kissing and nipping at the golden skin till purple formed. He smiled into her most sensitive part, relishing as she arched herself into his tongue. Unable to keep still.

Gods, it was degrading. Senseless. Consuming.

Another image entered his mind. Of her back to his chest, once again laying herself over him. Hips laying on his lower half, hardened by her curves. Her nimble fingers grabbing his own, and sucking the honey off of him. Her tongue moving against him, bodies heated as the entire court watched them.

His hips were losing their rhythm as he fucked his hand thinking of her. He fought desperately for some control, or dignity, and lost it all. A boy once again unknown to the body of a woman.

Not just anyone.

"Leila." Her name left him, a broken promise.

Pleasure blinded him, his vision darkening as he eyes rolled up and his mouth with a deep groan. His body lurched involuntarily, as a wave of sensation moved up his length. His hand kept moving, imagining the princess around him.

Drops of pearl fell, soaking the blue of the comforter.

His head dropped, harsh breaths leaving him as he sat back on his knees.

Fuck.

It was silent, as he waited for his heart to rest. The only noise, his labored exhalations and the blood pounding through his veins.

It meant she was once again asleep.

What have I done?

The man grabbed a cloth from his bedside table, running it over the lines on his stomach. Cleaning up the sticky residue, his cheeks darkening with humiliation.

He was going to need to bring this to the laundry area himself. There was no way he was going to explain this to his best friend. Not when he had sent away all the courtiers from the castle.

Fuck, he had messed up. Allowing the fracture to make a whole line in the iceberg of himself.

Weak.

He hadn't been that fevered since he was a boy, learning things. The man believed himself to have honed his desires with inhuman defiance.

It had taken only a week for that skill to be decimated.

Weak. His father's voice, an unwelcome ghost, echoed in his mind.

Leila. This was further evidence that he needed to stay away from her. Though he believed himself capable of resisting, he wasn't so sure after this.

Still, it was necessary. Seeing her again would be a whole other type of punishment.

The man set his focus to the best of his ability, on cleaning up and acting like the ruler he ought to be.

By the time Jimin had made it to his rooms, all evidence of his deviance had been erased. Except the shame that hung in the air as he sat in his formal writing area, seeing not a word on any page as he signed parchments on kingdom policy.

"So, will you finally tell me why you're torturing yourself?"

Taehyung tightened his grip on the quill, gritting his teeth. It's not as if his hands were stained from his worrisome transgressions. It was just rare when his friend missed a change in his demeanor.

One that if he found out, Taehyung would never live it down.

"Fuck off Jimin." The man responded dryly, not offering his friend his gaze.

While he was good at lying, it was his eyes that always spoke the truth.

Even then, most people took what he said and acted like at face value. It was one of the reasons Jimin had been one of his small group that he would consider close. It was easy to be the person he was expected to be to everyone else.

The cold, phlegmatic prince.

A ruler not easily influenced by mortal wants.

Not a man that would spill himself from the sound of someone's voice alone.

Jimin tsked, walking himself further into the room. His boots clicked at the hardwood floors, making his companions eye twitch.

"No, I don't think I will. First, you are happy to finally have the key everything in our hands. You swear she's still some automaton, incapable of emotions. Yet, you want to keep her in comfort, out of the dungeons like tradition calls for. And even in her comfort, you want to stay away lest she try to make you care for her."

Yes, it is partly why. His friend knew everything about him. Though he certainly wouldn't agree with his methods.

"Jimin, I said leave."

The man indeed did not leave, instead marching up the steps to wear Taehyung was sitting. The princes gripped at the quill, training his eyes onto the paper, and refusing to give in.

Jimin circled around, a vulture eyeing it's corpse, leaning down closer to his companion, "So that is what you've been doing? Poor girl thinks you are wholly disinterested in her soft, shiny dark hair. Her perfectly smooth, golden skin. Her surprisingly good-"

Taehyung threw the quill down, spilling ink over an entire accounting document. The glass of the ink pot hit the table, interrupting the advisor from saying more. A hot flash of anger expelling rays of gold from the center of his chest.

"Shut up! Shut up, or I swear I'll have your tongue cut out and sent to her on a silver platter." He shouted, staring daggers at the friend who didn't know when to hold the appendage he had threatened.

Jimin stilled, his face pulled tight as he moved away from his friend. Taking in the spilled pot, ruined documents, and at last the show of veiled magic under his friend's doublet.

But Taehyung was not thinking of his perusal. His chest heaved in similarity to the vigor of this morning. That same dread moving within him, telling him he had went too far. Allowed too much.

The princess was much more than her features. But it was not for Taehyung to defend or to care. Boundaries were necessary, for gluttonous men like Jimin.

Especially from the way the man looked at his bride.

A wide, haughty smile spread across the brunette Jimin's face.

His voice, a purr, "Why? Why such an interesting reaction this time around Taehyung? Why will you not consummate your marriage then? Why are you so angry with me if you are not jealous? If you are so uncaring."

Jealousy required care. And no, Taehyung did not care.

He would not.

"Because it's my duty as her husband to protect her from the hands of men like you. She's our prisoner, but she's not one of your temporary delights. Respect is to be given, even from the likes of you."

"So then take her Taehyung. The prophecy says nothing against doing so. It never has."

Why was he so insistent? His friend's words sounded like a secret threat to the prince.

'If you will not have her, I will.'

It was normal, of them to talk about courtiers. To speak of the beautiful women to pass through the castle. Never in a disrespectful way. It was common, when Jimin would ask if he could go for a person that was after the prince. Taehyung had never refused him, if the girl so wished the same.

He pushed the thought away, knowing that his friend was loyal, and he would not do so. But if Leila wanted Jimin, there was little he could do to prevent it. He would not deny her of what she truly wanted. While she was a prisoner, she was not his to control.

If that is what they both desired.

There was another biting emotion underneath it all, that he simply did not want Jimin to think of Leila that way. Or she, him. No matter whether he truly wanted the girl or not, he just didn't like it.

Another truth he wished to bury.

The prince sat back in his seat, opening his legs in a blasé manner. A sudden change from the outburst from before. Taehyung willed his face to lack emotion, leaving all unknowns behind as he addressed his friend once more.

"I will not have her. I do not care for her. Just like the rest. There is nothing different about her. She will not satisfy me."

Jimin barked out a laugh, pacing in front of him. Taehyung narrowed his gaze, slowly starting to lose his patience again. Wondering if it had been a mistake to let his friend so much time with her, since clearly he knew better than him.

Wondering, when the last time he'd seen his rake of a companion so worked up over someone else. 

The damn man liked her. Though, Jimin would never admit it.

Maybe many mistakes were made, considering Jimin was a part of the guard that was sent to learn about her for months before she came over. A sharp pang hit his chest, something bitter rising in his throat. Something possessive, something he didn't recognize.

The feeling apexed, as Jimin continued to speak with abandon, "You know that is not true. She's as quick as she is beautiful. When she speaks, it's not to be taken for granted. While she lacks experience in life and relationships, she's learning fairly quickly. She doesn't use her magic despite having the power to break a thousand windows at once. She's powerful. Strong. Elegant. Poised. She's exactly what you want."

Taehyung was frozen, all feelings of resentment coiled. Released. He had no right to feel liked he was being stolen from.

She was everything he could have wanted.

That was the problem.

There were many things Leila did not know about the curse. That no one else alive knows about the curse, except Taehyung and Jimin. The secrets bestowed upon them after his father and mother's demise.

One being, that her entire existence was created to be a temptation for him.

The friend differed greatly on how to deal with that tiny, existential problem. Jimin thought it was best to fuck her, and keep her in a prison cell. Taehyung had thought it better to marry her, and keep an emotional distance.

Though it seemed the former's opinion had changed. The prison cell seemed to morph into the advisor's own bed chambers.

Taehyung wondered now if Jimin now was negging the prince to get the young princess out of his system. Then, in the aftermath, she would be pushed into Jimin's awaiting arms. Knowing there was nothing the prince could do about it.

"And you know all this?" Taehyung questioned, resting both his hands on his knees. Suspicion coloring his words.

Jimin's eyes flashed, arrogance lost for a moment. It dawned on him that he had revealed too much of his feelings for the princess. He knew it was best to lie to the prince, despite them both knowing it wasn't the truth.

"No, I don't. But tell me Taehyung, you don't care that every night I am the one to undress her?"

Taehyung couldn't hide his knowing smile, leaning back in his chair.

It was something meant to insult him, to insight his action. He had tried it so many times with him. But Jimin did not know of her nightly endeavors.

"No, no I do not. And she does not want this either. Not truly." Taehyung was sobered by the thought, all satisfaction lost. He let his head fall, in shame and frustration.

It was silent, before Jimin scoffed. Disbelief was written across his face, as the prince looked up from the floor.

"You haven't told her, have you?"

He would never tell her. It was the right thing to do. He would not make the same, damning mistakes as before. No one would be able to change his mind, not even his best friend.

Taehyung clenched his jaw, fists clenching. He would not be questioned again. Not about his curse.

"Jimin, enough." This time, his voice was stern. Unforgiving. He had already given the brunette too much allowance.

"Holy shit. I can't believe this. You haven't told her that-" Jimin did not finish, voice raised.

The prince interrupted, bored tone making its way back, "Leave, before I make good on my word and send you to the dungeons."

The man moved away, eyes blinking. His hands kept loosely at his sides, tension found in his face. A small, ingenuine smile rising at the feeling of knowing was not being dismissed as a friend, but as a member of the court.

"Taehyung, I didn't know you had a flair for the dramatics." Jimin spoke sardonically, grasping at control.

It was what he did when he felt like he lost power in a situation. Something Taehyung wished he could remedy. But he was a prince, a ruler. He couldn't give all of himself to anyone.

"Enough."

Jimin's lips flattened, a sneer hidden underneath them. His gaze tearing into his friend as he spoke the next words lazily, "Fine, I'll go entertain your beautiful prisoner. Or who knows, maybe she'll entertain me."

Making his exit by slamming the door to his chambers.

That, was unmistakably a threat.

Taehyung waited till his friend was gone, throwing the rest of his papers after him. They scattered, falling from the sky like charred snow flakes.

Leila was not one to be charmed easily.

That, is where Jimin did not understand the girl. What Taehyung had figured out with his careful perusal of her being, and way of life. Hidden between her favorite scents, and her inability to miss a training session.

The princess did only what she wanted to do. If what she wanted aligned with what everyone else's covets and plans, then so be it.

She would not change herself.

Not for anyone.

**********

Leila had been right. Making any form of deal with the advisor was a terrible idea.

Right now, she wished she could take it all back, as he pulled harshly at the laces to her red corset. The gown was beautiful, but it was cutting off her circulation as the man muttered behind her, trying to give her a 'succubus waist' as he called it.

"Aren't I one already?" She asked lightly, jesting to the reference ha had made in front of the prince. Holding onto her dressing mirror for dear life, as he pulled and tugged on her dressing as if he were manning a large ship during a storm.

Jimin grumbled, his eyes downcast, teeth bared as he seethed, "No dear sacrifice. It is what I will mold you into."

She jolted with another tug, relieved to find the worst of over. The man had been finished tying the corset. Though he didn't look any less frustrated. His skin seemed more fair than usual, dark circles forming under narrowed eyes. His tongue kept running across his teeth, his gaze barely able to focus.

The man had walked into her room with a terrible disposition. The elf-like man didn't even bother to greet her as he barged in, telling her to undress. Not that he was nice any day, his presence had been pleasant in her loneliness. With every visit, his insults had increased.

Along with his smile.

"Are you going to tell me what has got you so bothered?" Leila inquired, wanting to know of his changed demeanor.

He looked at her through the mirror, his gaze softening. She had painted her lips a dark red, eyes smudged and darkened. Her dress was decadent, albeit different than anything she had ever worn. It was a deep, wine red off the shoulder ensemble. The sleeves puffed out until they narrowed at her wrist, where pearls were wrapped around the outside. The neckline was round over her breast, a fair amount of cleavage showing as it pushed her up. Each edge was lined with dark, appliqué leaves like the decay of autumn. The bodice was cinched and had a drop waist that lengthened her torso and accentuated her wide hips. Her skirts were semi-full with the thick material, waving over her legs.

While she had worn the crescent, she had also placed a black ruby necklace that held close to her throat. She pinned back two pieces of hair with black pearl pins, letting the rest of her waves fall loose.

Jimin sighed, his hands making their way to her shoulders. She had gotten quite used to his hands, so their softness did not startle her.

"If I tell you, I will have to kill you. And I would rather live to see another day."

She rolled her eyes, laughing. The sound was less foreign to her this week, as she was becoming used to her own amusement. Turning around to see Jimin already staring back at her, his hands dropping.

"So, how will you mold me into a demoness of the night? Capable of stealing away a prince." Leila retorted, eyes closed halfway. She twirled a long strand of hair that hung over her front, as she walked closer to crescent eyed advisor.

A lying, secret keeping prince.

He shook his head, his middle part making his dark brown hair move from in front of his eyes.

"Lets start with what you can manage. Tonight, you will learn the power of a subtle look. And, small touches."

"Seems easy enough."

The man grinned, his pink lips tilted with petty satisfaction, "Yes, but with the right intensity, it can make it seem like we have already fucked."

Leila felt her cheeks heat at the abrasive word choice. The advisor's head cocked as he took in her reaction. Her mind went to him and that servant girl together, and reeled it back from those depths.

"Oh. Is that what we want him to think?" She stuttered with confusion.

It did not seem like going that far was the best idea. She wanted to make him jealous. Not have the man next to her put on the chopping block.

"No, not entirely. But making it believable enough for doubt to come to life is the goal. We need to walk the line of friendship and intimacy, so that it could be deemed innocent if questioned."

The man gestured for her to stand right in front of them. They were far enough from the bed, the moonlight only cresting at their feet. She stood with her shoulders back, completely engaged with the so-called master of envy. At seeing her try so intently, he offered one of those rare genuine smiles, his eyes crinkling, before fixing it to be stern.

His eyes trailed from her own, moving to her lips. The girl bit them out of nervousness, his eyes lingering a moment longer at the action, and then came back to her eyes.

"See what I just did?" He asked, his eyes fixing to her lips once again as they parted in confusion.

He groaned at her silence.

"You looked from my lips to my eyes?" She suggested, not entirely sure she was correct.

A relieved sigh sounded, "Yes. You are not entirely hopeless. This little trick can cause anyone to think about your lips. Then, subsequently want to kiss you."

The girl nodded, committing the trick to memory.

Jimin started again, lifting his right hand, "Now? A simple touch. One that lingers, but is not too obvious. It provides the image of longing."

Leila stood still as he walked forward a bit, brushing his hand against her skin. Letting his pointer finger stray against her longer, as he walked past her.

The girl observed, catching the vision of them in the mirror. The man's cream colored uniform again making him that of a angelic prince. A drop of snow against the backdrop of her blood red dress. His pretty hand flared across her forearm like a fatigued butterfly. He did not have to look at her for everyone to know he didn't want to let go.

"So, small and slow touches that remain?" She asked, waiting patiently for him to remove his hand.

Jimin finally did, clearing his throat before placing both of his hands behind his back, "Yes. Think of it this way. While I bet your training relied on your looks and body alone, seduction is about doing very little, and making people crave more."

Leila understood that. It wasn't that the men she had seen back home weren't pretty to look at. It was the way people carried themselves hear that was almost inherently sensual.

"Like when I sat on the prince's lap?"

Jimin laughed, the sound of ice cold water, "You looked very good while doing it. But it was too much. Not that I don't doubt Taehyung thinks about it once or twice every night."

"Shouldn't we practice?" Leila asked, picking absentmindedly at her nails.

In reality she wanted to stall. Seeing Taehyung after their squabble sounded dangerous for her sanity. He might even expel her from the room if she makes even a noise. Or better yet, maybe he would apologize for being unnecessarily rude.

While Jimin was hopeful of her seduction, he did not hear his friend the other day. The way he spoke of forcing himself to allow her to stay. How he would never choose her for himself.

Even just thinking about it made her breath quicken with mortification.

"There's no need. If you look too rehearsed, the prince would know." He answered easily, before heading to her door.

Waiting expectantly, leaning against the frame as she refused to move. The lights flashes around them, eight time. Leaving them only mere minutes to make it to the dining room.

"And you believe this will work?" Leila asked, true concern reaching from her.

Jimin nodded, his confidence reassuring. His eyes glistened like he knew something she did not, "I know it will. Especially since we will be doing it in front of an audience tonight."

Leila moved further back into her room, eyes narrowing, "Excuse me?"

The advisor did not look sorry at all that he exposed the prince's omissions. No, he looked exquisitely gratified that anger had smeared across her face at the unknown.

"Oh? He didn't tell you? He tends to do keep a lot of things to himself. Our friends and nobles from neighboring towns are visiting tonight to congratulate him on his marriage. That is why you have been asked to the celebratory dinner."

Leila snorted, yet no humor was there to be found. Though their marriage was forced, it did not have to be so unequal. With one knowing nothing, and the other hoping to string her along.

She suddenly felt more inclined to make a statement with Jimin tonight. If she embarrassed the prince in front of all of his friends, he'd be forced to reckon with her. She would not sit idly by, not when she'd been given a chance at a new way of life.

Until she figured out a way to end it.

If you ostracize me, I will make it living together unbearable for you.

Jimin told her as she was escorted to the dinging room, that it was customary for Taehyung to show off his bride. Traditionally, there would be a feast of nobles under the full moon.

"Like a prized mare?" Leila ridiculed dryly.

The man caught onto her sarcastic tone, patting the hand that rested on his elbow.

"Yes, my dear sacrifice. You're catching on." Jimin cooed with mocking pride.

They walked swiftly to the room, not wanting to be late. This area lay towards the center of the castle, closer to the throne room.

When they arrived, they were alone. The prince, always fashionably late. Leila took a look around, admiring the details. It seemed like a newer addition, rendered in the last 300 years.

Most could tell what was built after the sun died. The windows were decorative, not functional, and often were painted over with silver to act as mirrors. They lined the gray painted room the entire way down. The ceiling depicted an epic, a half man half bull with bat like wings fighting a bright celestial angel. Set in storm clouds of varying purple, gray, and blue shades.

She walked forward, Jimin following behind as she put a hand on the long, rectangular, and ebony table. It was set for eight people, but could easily fit twenty. The finest china were set, gold paint in ivy circling the rim. The silver ware was polished to glint in the magicked light. Centerpieces of silver birch, pearls, and shells were dispersed expertly. Short enough that people across from each other could talk and dine.

Leila turned to Jimin, to see him picking at his nails. The man looked up, motioning with his finger for her to sit in the seat his hand now rested on. She nodded, grateful as he pulled the chair back for her.

"It's best if we are ready for his arrival."

She adjusted her skirts as she sat, and her sleeves that couldn't stay entirely up her shoulders.

Jimin saw her struggle, the lace ruffles of his cuffs brushing her back as placed his middle finger under the hem of her top. Lifting up, so the fabric remained sitting right at the bone. 

Leila turned her head to thank him, stopping mid sentence as she made unlikely eye contact with a statuesque prince. Jimin's hand remained under her dress despite their company, as he did not look up from his task. 

Taehyung did not flinch from her guilty stare, only raising one dark brow. Not at all alarmed that he had found the two in a seemingly comprising position. She tried to alert the advisor, but was interrupted.  

"Evening." A deep, single word uttered. Scarily chilled in tone. 

Jimin pulled away from her swiftly, as if her skin coated with boiling water. She watched as the man settled himself, bowing at his leader. To which the prince returned the gesture.

She looked back at the prince, who had made it very clear he would not acknowledge her any longer than he was duty bound to. His gaze seemed to rest past them, as if neither were truly there.

After a moment of hesitation, the prince of night walked around them. Regal and poised, as he stationed himself at the head of the table. Unfortunately next to Leila, who sat with Jimin, now to the right of her as he lowered himself with the prince.

What a pleasant welcome.

Out of the corner of her eye, the young woman observed him. It was the first time she'd seen him wear a crown, a silver, ring with sapphires pressed into the surface. The prince himself was adorned in his most embellished midnight blue dressings. Elaborate silver designs weaved up the velvet material of the doublet, 

He stared ahead, leaning back in the iron, and cushioned chair. One foot, resting on his knee and nearly hitting the table. One arm at his side, the other meddling with his lips. A position that seemed to be bred from power fueled arrogance. Her heart skipped a beat, when she noticed a silver cross dangling from his left ear. The cold metal kissing his neck as he shifted. 

She pulled her prying eyes away, urging her mind to remember their last encounter.

He does not want you. 

It was then Leila realized how loud their silence was. The two newly weds and the advisor sat stiffly, not attempting even a pinch of conversation. A slight breeze would have been appreciated. Maybe even a loud crash of thunder, to break apart the strange tension.

"She was to be dressed in blue." Taehyung finally remarked, not sparing a glance. Instead he fiddled with a thin stem of a crystal. 

The only hint at emotion, being the way he incessantly twirled the wine glass, his lips a straight line. The only way a royal would handle being so pettily disobeyed. 

It was a command directed at Jimin. The advisor leaned back in his seat, offering no reaction. The young woman would ask why Jimin didn't follow directions later. Right at the moment, her pride spoke for her. 

"She, is right here for you to address. Husband." Leila spat back at him, speaking his title with the same vitriol he had dealt her days before. 

Taehyung stopped twirling the glass, his head falling back in his chair, eyes closing. The veins on his tan neck pronounced as he called out to a servant at his left, "Bring me wine, I beg. I don't know how else to get through this miserable night."  

Ignoring her. 

Leila seethed silently, wondering just how many ways she could be made to feel less than. At home, though lied to, at least people had recognized her importance. She was an insect to him, annoying and buzzing. Easily swatted to the side if he so wished. 

Jimin leaned closer, eyes searching as he asked, "What have you done to the man?"

Leila did not remove her glare from the prince, as a servant popped open a dark wine. It was almost purple, considering the artificial ways it could be grown and crafted. The man took a deep sip, sighing as he sat up easily once again. 

"If I am trusting my own senses, it seems that he is not warming up to you either tonight."

Jimin furrowed his brows, ready to defend himself before Taehyung insulted them into submission once more. 

"I can hear both of you. I'd rather not."

Jimin and Leila both put their heads down, mouths promptly closing. It remained silent after that. Leila looked at Jimin with wide eyes, trying to indicate that he would have to explain later what happened between the two. A chuckle sounded from the advisor, who seemed to somehow find amusement in the prince's biting remarks. Taehyung ignored him, his attention remaining on the opening to the room.

His fingers tapping along the table.

Leila let out an internal sigh of relief as the castle guards announced their visitors. 

Five royal men entered the space, of varying heights. They all seemed to be from the surrounding region. Taehyung stood, along with his advisor and bride in welcome. 

"It is a pleasure to see you, Prince of Night." A man with light brown hair said, taking a step out from the line and bowing. 

Taehyung nodded, his returning smile warm. Less bristled and thorny than he had been all night. As Leila watched, the men went around and sat at their corresponding spots at the table. All, offering boyish hellos to the advisor beside her. Leila was surprised when they offered her bows before taking their seats. 

As the prince clapped his hands, friendly and boisterous chatter erupted around them. Food brought out in large plates was offered around the table. Leila did not speak up, not used to having so many people talking around her at once. Most of her interactions had been limited to one or two people at a time. The group had all seemed to know each other fairly well, as tales of boyhood started to spill around the table. Even the prickly prince had thawed, relaxing into his seat with his wine.  

Still she did not close herself off to the possibility of helpful insights about these men she could use. Some were things she observed, the bits of information she did not know filled in by Jimin who loved to gossip.

He had informed her that the first man that spoke was called Hoseok. He seemed a joyous person. She'd never seen someone smile so much. He was dressed in green, like that of the forest. She liked his genuine eyes, and curled lips. She was also sure she'd never heard someone talking about the ins and outs of farming without sunlight, such as he.

Jin seemed to be the oldest. Despite his rank and age, as he adorned a gray banner for architecture, he was also quiet animated. The man was pretty, with his symmetrical face, dark hair, and well suited eyes. His charm lay with his ability to entertain the entire room.

Namjoon wore a purple crest. In charge of supplying clean water around the area. The man was regal, with tan skin, steely gray hair, and a defined jaw. Taller than the rest, even sitting down. He was much more serious than the others too, his demeanor quiet and polite. Though he engaged when others invited him to.

Yoongi and Jeongguk were both from the same province. They apparently were in charge of metal and jewel exports around the kingdom. They adorned themselves in a true red. The former had light colored hair, that of pale moonlight. His face more round, but eyes sharp like a lazy cat. Thinner within his suit. He seemed like he already wanted to leave. The younger of the two had dark hair shaved at the sides, and a more muscular body. His straight nose, dark brows, and lips were adorned with silver jewelry. He glared around the room, observing everyone around him as he leaned back in his chair. A little more intimidating than the rest.

All of them seemed to radiate some form of power, the familiar hum of residual magic burning in her chest. They also all had the pale, purple bruises under their eyes that Jimin had started to form. Even the prince, had the lavender rings start to form under his eyes. All in need of rest. 

Caelestia. Star-touched. While friendship seemed to keep them in touch, shared blood is what kept them bound. Taehyung seemed to care for his companions, but to station them are high ranks without the proper talents and abilities would've been foolish. 

That meant Jimin also possessed some form of it. She eyed the advisor more wary than before. The food had been cleared away, and she had barely spoken a word. The prince who had wished to "show her off" had nary the decency to introduce his captive wife. 

So much for making a scene. 

He must've guessed her thoughts, because his mischievous disposition made its way back to him.

"Dance with me, princess?" The man asked boldly, trying to distract her.

The girl widened her eyes, head leaning forward. Her act of innocent princess, was not false in this moment. 

The rest of the room had become painfully quiet at the advisor's request. Every single one of them had stopped their conversation to look at Taehyung's new bride. But he did not look back at them. His eyes remained on Leila, daring her to say no.

"Leila doesn't like to dance." Taehyung sounded flippantly from behind her.

She turned to see him taking a sip casually out of his merlot. Feline eyes downcast, and still not giving her notice. No, she didn't know how to dance. It was something she had never tried, and had been denied the joy of. 

Jin and Namjoon laughed nervously, though Jeongguk kept his eyes on the silent woman. 

Taehyung's conceit in feigning his understanding of her desires, and his evidently entertained audience, incited her answer.

Leila stood shoulders back, her voice a sickly sweet drawl, "Well, maybe I just haven't had the right partner?"

Jimin clapped his hands together, "Brilliant. A song in D minor." 

The servants in the corner of the room nodded, readying their sleeping instruments.

Leila's heart pounded, as she knew every person in the room had now had their eyes on her. She could not even look at anyone but Jimin, afraid of what she would see.

Knowing that indifference would burn more than wrath.

Jimin took her hand, his only slightly larger. Comfortable, as he pulled her to the center of the floor. Her heavy dress fanned out behind her, eyes lifted as she waited for instruction.

The man wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her flush to his chest. His other clasping at her limp hand, and wrapping his digits around her own. The girl glared at their unnecessary proximity, but Jimin's eyes were bright. 

The violin whined around them, singing her sad song. A slow but complex sound, made for a medium paced dance. Jimin stepped forward and back, a smirk on his lips as his body pressed her around the floor. As they spun, the girl noticed just how skilled her partner was. Enough, to move them around with some sort of grace, even as she fumbled over steps. 

"I thought I was supposed to do all the work?" She bantered, as he moved her back.

Her cheeks burned, a smile making its way on her face. It seemed that dancing was something she wouldn't mind taking part in.

The man dipped her unexpectedly, her breast now closer to his face. Her back arched, his eyes tracing along her as he did so. 

"You expect me to not relish in this?"

"I wouldn't expect any less. For someone who loves his friend, you sure enjoy tempting his patience. Is it all a game to you?" 

The man languidly lifted her back to him, face to face. Showing the strength he kept hidden in his lithe form. His head dipped to her side, button nose grazing against the dewy skin of her neck. Her breath hitched, wondering if this were another one of his tricks. 

"Oudh, jasmine, vanilla, and amber." Jimin answered finitely, pulling back enough for their irises to connect. She searched for spite. It scared her when she couldn't find it. 

The music seemed to stop around her. 

"How do you know that?" Leila questioned, a little breathless. She had the slight inkling he was not well versed in all scents. 

Their dance had become much less liquid. Jimin looked at her closely, to the way she had closed herself off to him. Steps becoming misaligned from his. 

But as she seemed to distance herself mentally from him, his grip pulled her tighter. To where she could feel the pulse of his heart even underneath her bodice. Close enough to see his usual malice darken his eyes.

"I know everything about you. It was my job to. Why are your rooms so curated? Why has all the food been prepared for you, been your favorite? All the scents, the views, the books. Your fucking sheets. Maybe you can even ask Taehyung why he knows even the type of material you place over your most delicate and untouched-"

Leila ripped out of his grasp with chagrin, his ruthless smirk not leaving his face. She lifted her hand back, slapping the irreverent man. The sound echoed throughout the room, stopping the string musicians, and once again creating an inky silence.

The princess of the moon held her chin high, anger coloring her cheeks the color of berries. Her eyes glanced around the room, seeing the men from earlier dispersed around the dining table in lethargic positions. The atmosphere was palpable with surprise. It was clear, from the startled expressions of Yoongi, Hoseok, and the rest that no one had heard their exchange. The music had simply been too loud. 

She turned away, a blur of blue. The princess did not want to see Taehyung's reaction. Of the disappointment for the girl who did not seem to know any better.  

For a punishment that might have came, for putting a hand on his best friend. One deemed more worthy than she ever could try to be to him. Even if she stooped, and begged, and pleaded. 

But she would not give anyone the chance to reprimand her, as anger heated her blood.

Leila watched Jimin bent over, filling the silence with shocked laughter. His hand grasping at the quickly reddening part of of his face, unevenly made a pink carnation.

 Her reaction had likely not been apart of his plan. But it had been a tentative part of hers. 

A way to assert herself in this room full of people who dared to ignore her title here. Her power, and her role in the prophecy. She had been affronted enough by the lot of them., 

She waited no longer. Ignoring the rest of the room, she grabbed the hair on top of his head. The man breathed through his teeth, as she gently pulled down and set him on his knees before before her. She had remembered, just how bitter he had been to acknowledge her as a royal when she first arrived. 

Leila would dig a knife into that wound once again. 

"You talk to me like that ever again, I will make sure the only time you are ever on your knees is when you're bowing down to me." She demanded, her voice harsh. Her hand twisted with his hair, making him wince.

The advisor locked eyes with her, blood forming at the edge of his mouth. His vexation with her as clear as the cloudless night. 

Then, Leila looked from his eyes, to his reddened lips, back to his irises. 

And let him go. 

The man remained on his knees, anger turning to something foggier and less defined. His lips parted, not leaving her form.

Finally, as she turned away, the princess allowed herself to gauge him.

There he sat, relaxed in his throne. Watching, with no move whatsoever to get up and correct his prisoner. Instead, his feline eyes prowled over her in a way they never had. The ever so stone-hardened man, could not halt his enraptured smile, as her eyes found his. A moment of shared treachery. 

Leila turned, leaving the dining quarters.

Before he saw the same delight reflected in her. Power, always acknowledged the powerful. 

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(A/N: so I told y'all this was going to be a different breed

I love writing this book, and I love all who are reading it <3

Made an edit of her dress popping off in the dining hall. I legit had to edit the skin cuz I wanted everyone to see what it would look like on a none pale person. Tried my best!

The ins and outs I have planned for this are just trust me all the missing info will be worth it when it's revealed. But drop your theories below!!! I love reading them. 🤪🤪🤪🥰🥰😘😘