*continued*

Later that evening, the grand ball in celebration of Prince Kim Seokjin ascending the throne took place within the opulent walls of the royal palace. It was an event of extraordinary scale, where Kings and Queens from all across Korea and distant regions of the world gathered to honor the new King and offer their congratulations.

The castle gleamed with an aura of unmatched elegance, its very presence an announcement of wealth, power, and authority. Everything from the golden chandeliers to the silk-draped tables screamed of unimaginable opulence. Security was tight, as guards expertly checked and served the guests, ensuring no disruptions during the extravagant occasion.

King Jinmoon was not just any ruler—his reign spanned most of the Korean empire, with the largest army in the country and a fleet of servants trained to perfection. His wealth seemed boundless, providing the means for such a grand celebration, one that only a select few could even dream of being invited to.

The ballroom buzzed with lively chatter as the guests mingled, exchanging pleasantries and remarks. Among them were Yesol and her family, special guests due to the future union they would soon share with the royal family.

Despite the carefully controlled environment, Yesol couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement. Even though she was forbidden from meeting Prince Seokjin before their wedding, her eyes continuously scanned the room, hoping for a glimpse of the new King—though she had no idea what he looked like.

Ara, on the other hand, was growing increasingly frustrated with her younger cousin’s reckless behavior. She could see the excitement in Yesol's eyes, the naive longing for a glimpse of Seokjin, and couldn't help but feel a little irritated. This was a royal gathering, after all, and every guest here had deep ties to the royal family. Yesol, in her innocence, seemed oblivious to the importance of such an event.

Suddenly, the hall fell as silent as the ocean, the murmur of conversation halting abruptly, leaving an eerie stillness in its wake. The atmosphere shifted, thick with unease, as if every breath was held in anticipation.

Yesol was caught off guard, her eyes instinctively darting around the grand hall to understand the sudden shift in energy. Her gaze quickly searched for the cause of this abrupt silence, only to land on a figure entering the room—a presence that commanded attention without a word.

A tall man walked into the hall, his figure cloaked in dark, regal attire, flanked by two imposing figures. His entrance was so powerful, so deliberate, that the entire room seemed to freeze in its tracks. The crowd, once abuzz with lively conversation, fell into an almost unnatural quiet.

His presence alone was a force, a cold, quiet energy that seemed to chill the very air. There was something about him—something that made the room hold its collective breath, an aura of power that seemed to seep into every corner of the space. His mere existence in the room commanded obedience, his every movement filled with a dangerous calm.

Though the crowd dared not look directly at him, Yesol’s eyes, curious and unrelenting, found themselves drawn toward him. She didn’t know why, but there was something about him that pulled at her—a strange, inexplicable tension that settled in the pit of her stomach. She had never seen him before, yet something in her gut told her he was someone important, someone dangerous.

Just as she began to study him, he seemed to sense her gaze. His head slowly turned in her direction, and for a brief moment, their eyes locked. A flicker of something dark and intense passed between them, an unspoken connection that sent a shiver down Yesol’s spine. The air around them thickened, the quiet tension rising.

Before Yesol could make sense of it, Ara, sensing the moment's weight, pulled her away with an urgent force. Yesol stumbled, her heart racing, as the world around her shifted. The figure, the man whose presence had so deeply affected her, was now nothing more than a distant, looming figure in the crowd, but the unease lingered, a spark of something unknown simmering in the back of her mind.

"What are you trying to do?" Ara hissed, her voice a strained whisper.

"I was just—" Yesol began to explain, but Ara cut her off sharply.

"Are you insane? Yesol, he's the most ruthless man in Korea. You don't look into his eyes." Ara’s tone was firm, as if she were trying to drive the gravity of the situation into her cousin’s innocent mind.

Before Yesol could respond, a deep voice echoed through the hall, drawing everyone's attention.

"King Jinmoon, I thought we were close, but not getting an invitation while everyone else did made me a little sad." The man’s voice was rich and velvety, with a distinct satoori accent that carried a weight of authority.

King Jinmoon chuckled uneasily, trying to mask the discomfort in his voice. "Oh, I thought we were family, Jeon Jungkook. Do families need an invitation?"

Jungkook scoffed, his eyes briefly looking down as if the words were beneath him. "And then King Hoseok just left us, so I thought—"

"As a King, you shouldn't look back, King Jinmoon," Jungkook interrupted, his voice hardening. "Our lives don’t stop when someone passes. We need to move forward, right?" His tone rose, a quiet power lacing every word, a reminder of the man he had become.

The tension in the room was palpable as Jungkook, unbothered by the silence, raised a golden glass filled with red wine, offering a cold, almost mocking toast. "Anyway, let’s not spoil the aura. I’m taking over the throne after my brother, so this one’s for me!" he announced with a confident smirk. He took a long sip, the room still unmoving, before turning and quietly disappearing into the shadows, his presence lingering like a storm waiting to break.

The collective breath of the room was released as the murmurs picked up again, people exchanging whispers and stolen glances.

"Who was he?" Yesol asked, still staring at the spot where Jungkook had vanished.

Ara let out a resigned sigh. "The uninvited one," she said, her voice carrying a note of finality, as if that single phrase summed up everything about the man. The air still seemed heavy with the lingering tension of his words, his presence, and his departure.

"Jeon Jungkook is not a good man," Ara continued, her voice cold and serious. "No one dares to cross him unless they’re willing to lose everything. He’s taken down countless young kings for revenge, and taken over their kingdoms without hesitation. He’s a mentally ill psychopath, a monster wrapped in a golden foil." Her words were sharp, each one sinking in like a warning.

Yesol could only stare at her cousin, still unable to fully grasp the gravity of the situation. Her confusion was evident.

Ara let out a soft chuckle, trying to ease the tension with a mockingly light tone. "You better keep your brother, Jimin, away from him," she joked, but the underlying seriousness in her voice made it clear this wasn’t a game. "And no more questions!" she added, her smile fading as she became stern again.

The atmosphere shifted, and Yesol, still processing the information, felt the weight of Ara’s warning pressing on her shoulders. The air around them seemed to thicken with the unspoken threat of Jungkook’s power, a silent reminder of the danger he posed to everyone in the room.

_______________________

As the evening festivities continued inside the palace, Yesol quietly slipped away, eager for a break from the strict guidance of her cousin, Ara. The air outside was cool and calming, a welcome contrast to the bustle of the grand hall. The guards were all stationed within, keeping watch over the guests, leaving the grounds outside empty and peaceful.

With no one around to see her, Yesol couldn’t help but feel a lightness in her step. She hummed a tune softly, letting her feet carry her in playful twirls as she gazed at the vast, star-filled sky. The moon’s gentle glow illuminated the night, and a crisp breeze swept through the garden, causing her to spin with abandon. For a moment, she felt completely free, a rare feeling in the midst of the royal pressure she often faced.

But then, mid-spin, something caught her attention. Her sapphire ring, a precious gift from a dear friend, was no longer on her finger. Yesol froze, panic flooding her chest as she quickly checked her hand. Her ring was gone.

Her heart sank. The ring was rare, a symbol of something cherished, and the thought of losing it forever made her stomach twist.

"Why does this always happen to me?" she groaned, throwing her head back in frustration.

She glanced around desperately, her eyes scanning the ground. Finally, her gaze landed on the soft glow of the sapphire ring, lying innocently on the stone path, the king's path. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived as she knelt to retrieve it. The weight of the moment seemed heavier than just a lost ring—something felt off, though she couldn’t put her finger on it.

The path ahead felt strange, almost as if it had been waiting for her.

(In the olden Korea, there used to be a path which was only used by the kings)

Yesol’s breath hitched as a strong, unrelenting hand gripped her wrist, yanking her back with such force that she stumbled, colliding against a solid, hard chest. Her pulse skyrocketed, and panic surged through her veins. She froze, too terrified to look up and risk being caught by one of the officials. The warmth of the stranger's body pressed against her, and for a few heartbeats, she remained still, her face buried against his chest, unable to move.

Her mind raced, heart hammering in her ears, as she wondered who it was that had stopped her. The sudden proximity, the strength of the hold, and the way her body reacted to the situation sent a rush of emotions she didn’t understand. But the fear of being caught overwhelmed everything else. She didn't dare raise her head, her cheek resting against the firm muscles of his chest, her breath shallow.

The silence stretched on, thick and unnerving. She could feel the man’s steady, deep breaths, his presence commanding and imposing. His chest rose and fell beneath her, but she couldn’t bring herself to look up, too ashamed and afraid to face whoever had caught her in this vulnerable moment.

YESOL'S POV

When I finally dared to look up, my heart nearly stopped in my chest. The man before me was nothing short of stunning. His eyes, deep brown and filled with an unreadable glimmer, seemed to twinkle as if he were somehow glowing from within. I could barely catch my breath as I took in the sharp angles of his face, the high cheekbones and jawline that were so perfectly defined they looked carved by gods. His lips—cherry pink and plump—looked far too perfect, like something from a dream.

I blinked, trying to make sense of it all, but then my gaze trailed down to his broad shoulders. He stood so tall, I had to tilt my head back just to meet his eyes, and even then, I felt like I might snap my neck trying. His presence was overwhelming, and yet, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from him. His figure was imposing, yet somehow graceful. His clothes were made of the finest silk, in soft pastel colors that hinted at his high status.

I was sure he belonged to the royal family, and the thought alone made my heart race even faster. But then there was that scent—the wildflowers that clung to him like some invisible force, almost suffocating in its beauty. I could feel my lungs constricting, like the air itself was being taken from me.

In that moment, I felt utterly dizzy, not from fear, but from the sheer force of his presence. My senses were overwhelmed. I didn’t know if I should feel terrified or enchanted, but I couldn’t focus on anything else. My mind kept spinning, trying to process this moment, this person in front of me who felt too perfect to be real.

Am I dreaming? Am I in heaven? I wondered, my thoughts spiraling in a haze. This couldn’t be real. It felt like I had somehow stumbled into a world I didn’t belong in, where angels walked among men, and they could make my heart beat faster than I could control.

"Princess Yesol!" His voice cut through the air like a whip, sharp and furious, making me flinch as I was jolted back to reality. Even with the anger in his tone, he still looked impossibly handsome. And suddenly, a strange sense of dread filled me—I'm going to be punished for this... I just know it. A punishment that will follow me to hell.

"Are you this rash?!" His voice thundered as he towered over me. "Do you not know, only the King can walk on this path?!" he shouted, his words like daggers. I felt my heart tighten at the harshness in his voice, and my lips instinctively formed a sad pout, tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

But then, just as quickly as the anger appeared, it disappeared. His intense gaze softened as he looked at me, and his grip on my arms loosened, almost as if he regretted raising his voice. The shift in his expression was so sudden it took me by surprise.

"I- I know," I whispered, my voice barely audible as I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tremor in my chest. "I was just trying to get my ring back," I explained, my words coming out shaky. I didn’t even feel that bad about breaking the rules, but getting yelled at by this man, this stranger, it... it hurt more than I expected. His anger seemed to pierce through me in a way I didn’t understand, and it left me feeling empty.

I pointed to the ring that lay just out of my reach. His gaze followed mine, and without saying a word, he moved past me, his steps purposeful and confident.

Wait... if he's not the King, then who is he? Why did he walk on that path? How does he even know my name? His calmness and authority... He has to be from the royal family.

He returned a moment later, holding my ring delicately between his fingers. His lips curved into a small, almost apologetic smile, one that seemed to melt the anger from his earlier expression. "Here," he said, his voice soft, almost teasing, as he handed the ring to me.

That smile... It was like a balm to my bruised heart, and for a fleeting moment, I forgot about everything else. I forgot about the rules, about the wedding, about the reality of it all. I simply stared at him, mesmerized by his presence.

Yesol, you're going to get married... get yourself together, you idiot! I thought, but my heart was already too lost in the moment.

"You?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly as I stared at the young man before me.

" "You?!" " He scoffed sarcastically, his expression one of pure shock. I flinched, stepping back instinctively. "Yesol, do you not know who I am?" he asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

I squinted at him, trying to make sense of the strange familiarity I felt, as if zooming in on him would unlock a memory. Then it hit me—no way. "Ah, you are not allowed to see me," he muttered to himself, nodding as if confirming something.

"Not allowed to see?" I echoed, my confusion only deepening.

"King Ki- Kim Seok- jin?!!" I stammered, realization dawning on me like a wave crashing over my head. This man... he is my future husband, King Kim Seokjin.

But... I wasn’t supposed to see him, was I? We were kept apart until the wedding. So then why is he standing in front of me? And why am I standing in front of him? What if someone sees us? Panic bubbled up in my chest.

He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at his lips, acknowledging my words. "Yes," he confirmed, his voice calm and assured.

I quickly lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes, focusing only on the ground beneath me and his polished shoes. I can't believe this is happening.

"I apologize for showing up in front of you! Please forgive me!" I blurted out in a rush, my voice breaking with the weight of the moment. I kept my head bowed low. "Forgive me, King" I repeated, my heart racing as I waited for his response.

He didn’t move, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture impeccable.

So, he’s my husband. The man in front of me—this angel-like, strikingly beautiful man—is my husband. How did I end up with someone like him? I never prayed for such a perfect, muscular man. I never imagined anyone could look so stunning.

I couldn’t help but smile, my cheeks flushing with the realization that he had called me by my name, not formally, but just Yesol. It felt so intimate, so personal. And... I was going to be his eldest Queen.

How did I get so lucky?

"Yesol," he called my name again, his voice soft, almost melodic.

The way he said it made my name sound so beautiful, and I found myself gazing up at him, coming back to reality, my heart fluttering like a bird in my chest.

"

I will forgive you and return this ring, but only on one condition," he said, stepping closer to me. Instinctively, I took a small step back.

Before I could react further, his hands slid behind me, pulling my waist toward him. My breath caught in my throat at the suddenness of his touch. "Condition?" I whispered, my heart racing as I looked into his eyes.

Suddenly, without warning, he closed his eyes and leaned in. The next thing I knew, his lips were on mine, warm and soft. My heart stopped for a brief second, the world around me blurring, leaving only the sensation of him kissing me. I froze, unsure of what to do. This was my first kiss, and I had no idea how to react. My fingers clutched the collar of his hanbok instinctively, my eyes wide open, watching him as he kissed me so gently, so tenderly.

He pulled back slowly, opening his eyes to meet mine. We stood there for a moment, our bodies still close, before he smiled warmly at me and took my left hand in his. With a careful, deliberate motion, he slid the sapphire ring back onto my finger, then stroked my knuckles lightly with his thumb. The simple touch sent a jolt of warmth through me, making my heart beat even faster.

"Forgive me if I startled you, Princess," he said, his voice soft as he gazed down at me. I lowered my gaze, trying to hide the smile creeping up on my face, feeling my cheeks burning. I could tell they were as red as cherries.

What do I do now?

I couldn’t contain the rush of emotions swirling inside me. Today, I had been kissed by a man—for the first time in my life. And that man was no other than my future husband. My forever kissed me today. I didn’t know how to process it all.

He lifted his finger gently under my chin, tilting my head up to meet his gaze again. I couldn’t handle it. This was too much for me to process in one moment.

"Do you have sparkles in your eyes, Yesol?" he asked, his voice soft but teasing as he studied my face with narrowed eyebrows.

I blinked, momentarily confused, before he continued, "Because they shine so bright."

The way he smiled at me, so wide and full of warmth, made me want to open my chest and give him my heart. I couldn’t help but chuckle, my heart swelling in my chest. He pulled me into a hug, and I melted into his embrace.

"Now, you must leave," he said, his voice light with teasing. "It’s late, and you’ll have to dream about me too, right?"

I buried my face in his chest, and I heard him giggle softly. His laughter made everything feel so surreal, so perfect.

Suddenly, I heard Ara Unnie’s voice calling from afar. "Yesol!!!"

I quickly broke free from the hug, bowing slightly to Seokjin before running as fast as I could. I could still hear his laughter trailing behind me as I fled the scene.

***********

A/n:- Sorry for the use of new generation launguage in a historical story, I'm not very good at Shakespeare's launguage you see 👉👈

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