Ten guards in the state prison kept watchful eyes over Sura, Chomin and the Silcho clan. After everything Jimin and his troops went through to get them here in the first place, they weren't about to let them escape. Sura sat there in her cell with a slumped posture and dejected face, staring off into some sort of dreamland. She knew her fate, and was ready to give up to it.

Chomin on the other hand, sat grimly on the floor, staring angrily at whatever moved in the room. He wasn't about to give up his freedom and life over Sura's affairs. They both knew that Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Seonbi and Seokjin would return on the day of the trial with smiles on their faces. And after the criminals were executed, they would celebrate for days on end. The entire damn kingdom would celebrate.

Not for long, Chomin thought, walking up to the bars and staring into one of the guards' eyes.

"Yah, I'm thirsty. Give me water."

The guard, unfazed by his ill manners, glared straight at Chomin. "If that's how you're going to ask for it, then I'm not going to give it to you."

"Then I'll just keep asking for it. Give me some fucking water."

"I don't have to do that. You're going to the execution block anyway. You can die a slow death here and dehydrate, or ask nicely for what you want. Live a little longer. Your choice."

Chomin threw his hands up in defeat. "May I please have some fucking water?"

The guard's laugh was hollow. "I'd still deny you, but it's probably your first time asking for something nicely. So I'll give you a pass."

The guard stepped out of the line he was in with the other guards and went down the hall.

Chomin scoffed at the guard, looking straight into Sura's eyes. Sura never looked back at him -- in fact, she looked through him. It was as if he wasn't there. His eyes clearly communicated to her, however.

This is your fault, they said.

After a minute or so, the guard returned with a flask of water. Chomin reached up to his hair -- pinned up by a silver chopstick -- and began to scratch it. In doing so, he unscrewed a half of the chopstick and revealed a small blade in the back -- away from sight. The sharp edge was indeed small, but a jab to a vital spot could end someone's life.

Pulling the chopstick out of his hair and hiding the blade in his left hand, he received the flask with his right.

"What do you say?" the guard asked, still staring straight into his eyes.

Chomin was silent. He reached out, grabbed onto the flask, flipped the chopstick around and jabbed the blade into the guard's side. Screaming, the guard grabbed Chomin's hand, pulled the blade out and tossed it aside. Three guards went over to neutralize Chomin, while the injured fell onto his knees.

"Shit," he muttered, leaning onto another colleague. His friend told another to call the doctor, and he squeezed his eyes shut, almost unable to take the pain.

His nose was then covered with a strong-smelling cloth, reeking of something freshly bitter. With one inhalation, he passed out.

His eyes fluttered open, taking in the sights around him. No longer was he in the blank walls and stuffy air of the prison. His head rested on a soft pillow, and his sore yet relaxed muscles moved freely over the cool white sheets of the bed. He found himself in a single white robe, trousers and socks. No shoes, no belt. He felt as though he were rocking gently on the water, floating over a cool ocean.

His first attempt to sit up was stopped by a soft, warm hand placed gently on his chest.

"Don't move," Hoseok whispered, laying hid patient back down in bed.

"H-How did I get here?" the guard asked, looking up at his Samaritan.

"You don't remember?" he smiled, reaching over to get a white cloth and dipping it in some sort of clear liquid. Water, the guard presumed.

"The prisoner asked you to give him water. When you did, he hurt you. With this," Hoseok paused, showing him the chopstick blade.

Upon sight, everything came back to him. He sighed, looking away from Hoseok.

"Don't worry. You should be alright," he said, calmly laying his hands on the man's stomach. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he enjoyed the feelings that came from Hoseok's warm hands. He almost didn't want Hoseok to stop.

"What's your name?" he asked, giving a sympathetic look to the soft-faced man. His puffy cheeks turned up to a smile as the doctor pressed his fingers into certain areas on his stomach.

"Sorry," Hoseok said, "just checking for anything else. It might tickle a bit."

"That's alright. Min Yoongi, by the way."

"I'm Hoseok," he said, giving him a smile brighter than the sun. Yoongi instinctively smiled back, getting a feeling that Hoseok was more than just a doctor.

He had met Hoseok for a reason.

"Lady Hae," Hoseok said, holding out his hand. Seonbi gave her right hand to Hoseok, holding onto Taehyung with the other for support. Taehyung smiled at Seonbi, giving her a small kiss on the cheek. Hoseok ran his thumb over Seonbi's palm to relax her, and began to take her pulse.

Yoongi wasn't the only patient Hoseok had seen that day. Taehyung and Seonbi went to see Hoseok after they returned from the trip for something very important. The journey back to the palace was filled with a lot of talking, planning and discussing between the couple, and this would be the determining factor of it all.

"Yes," Hoseok said, nodding his head. "Perfect!"

"Is it true, Doctor Jung? Is it really?" Taehyung asked, eyes atwinkle with happiness.

"Yes, my lord," he said, smiling. "Congratulations, Lady Hae. You are pregnant with your firstborn."