#daechwita

Y/n  sat on the embroidered covers. She had not slept much last night. She had listened to the faint preparations going on outside the palace walls since dawn.

Today, she would be crowned queen. Despite the grandeur of her title, her soul remained tangled in a net of turmoil, born from last night’s encounter.

The arrogance of the man.

After the wedding banquet she was taken to her bed chamber and there she waited for him. Her entire body froze, but only for a moment before she regained her composure and lowered her head, eyes locked on the ground and hands in front of her. 

She heard his baldric meeting the surface of the dining table in the other room, before the footsteps continued until they came to another stop. She knew he was in the same room as her now. It felt like an eternity before he began to walk around her like a lion circling his prey.

During the wedding she couldn’t catch anything off about the king, but now. Now she could study him up close. She caught sight of his fine robes from the corner of her eye and followed it. His steps were slow, one slightly weaker.

‘Did he have a slight limp?’ She thought to herself. Her eyes focused on the rhythm of his pace, and there it was. But it wasn’t a serious limp. It was the kind you had after sitting for too long. But still, his footsteps echoed authority. 

He halted to a stop in front of her like a soldier, his footsteps echoing through the chamber as if they were marching in unison with the beat of her heartbeat. The room was shrouded in an overwhelming silence, so profound that it seemed to press against her ears like the weight of the ocean's depths. 

During the wedding ceremony she did not once look up to meet his eyes, not even during the ceremony. Until now, and her heart skipped a beat. 

He stood tall, hands behind his back and his head held high. The gentle breeze blew the head piece in a wave like motion. She could not see an inch of his skin. He was completely shieled off from the world in black and gold.

But now, it was the next morning, and she was to be crowned queen.

The doors swung open to reveal Y/f/n. Y/n had not moved from her sitting position on the bed as she watched y/f/n   walk into the bed chamber followed by three maids. They bowed in greeting to the princess, who stood up from the bed and walked towards the balcony. 

She saw the banners being hoisted, the smell of baking and other foods swam in the air faintly. And the excitement that the people of kingdom would have a young and beautiful queen. 

Y/f/n pulled back the covers back from the bed enough to see the sheet underneath. Her heart felt like it had jumped inside her chest. “Fetch some more Jasmine for her highness,” Y/f/n waved the maids away.

As the door closed behind the maids, and Y/n  felt Y/f/n  ’s gaze on her. “Do not look at me so, Y/f/n .” she sighed, her voice steady yet tinged with the defiance that masked her inner storm. 

Y/f/n approached her and placed a hand on her arm. Y/n    turned to look at her friend, her eyes, once filled with youthful dreams, reflected the morning light with unyielding stubbornness.

“You may not owe Daegu your love or your loyalty,” Y/f/n   spoke softly. “But our homeland faces threats that can be fought by his kingdom’s strength,” 

Y/n’s expression hardened; an imperceptible shadow passed over her face, like a cloud obscuring the sun. “We are capable of handling our affairs alone,” she said stubbornly. “We do not need this king nor his kingdom.” She sounded so confident, but her heart wavering. Deep inside her, a battle raged between pride and necessity. A fond and knowing smile played on Y/f/n’s lips. “Pride is a chain to which you willingly bind yourself, Y/n,” she said. “A fine queen must know when to wield it for strength and when to discard it for peace.”

🍊

Within the council chamber, a different kind of storm brewed, a tempest of hushed voices and furtive glances. The magistrates gathered, trapped in spirals of tense apprehension, their murmurs barely breaching the room’s confines. 

“This is unprecedented,” one ventured, his disbelief quivering in the charged air. “No witnesses, no confirmation. What if it hasn’t been done?”

Another scoffed, his derision cutting through the caution. “If it hasn’t, this alliance hangs by a thread. We cannot afford rumours.”

A third voice, fraying the delicate line between irritation and fear, added, “Who among us would dare challenge him? The king’s disdain for interference bares its fangs.”

Their hushed debate ceased abruptly as the door swung open.

Yoongi strode in, the gleaming silver of his mask catching the flickering torchlight. His steps were measured, deliberate, and each one echoed against the stone floor. The magistrates straightened like errant schoolboys caught in mischief, their faces a mixture of alarm and guilt.

“By all means,” Yoongi said, his voice cool and cutting, “continue.”

The eldest magistrate cleared his throat, fumbling for composure. “Your majesty...we were merely discussing the events of last night. For the sake of the crown, of course.”

Yoongi tilted his head slightly, the polished mask giving nothing away but making his presence feel all the more imposing. “For the crown,” he echoed, his tone heavy with irony. “You find yourselves troubled, then?” he asked calmly.

“Your Grace, we are stewards of the realm’s traditions. Without witnesses to confirm the consummation, questions may arise. Questions that could weaken the alliance.”

Yoongi’s lips curled into the faintest trace of a smirk. “Questions,” he said, “that you have already begun to whisper among yourselves.”

The room fell into an uneasy silence.

The eldest magistrate stepped forward. “Your majesty, it is not our intent to question your judgment. But the sanctity of this marriage must be beyond doubt. Without confirmation, there is risk—”

“Risk,” Yoongi interrupted, his voice dropping to a dangerous quiet, “is allowing rumours to undermine a union that has already been sealed.”

He took in a breath as if he was board and straightened his frame, his masked visage looming over them as he swept his gaze across the room. “I granted the princess privacy,” Yoongi continued, his tone growing sharper. “A courtesy your daughters would no doubt appreciate, should they ever find themselves bound to a foreign king. Or would you prefer that such matters be made a public spectacle?”

A few magistrates flinched. Their boldness from earlier evaporating under Yoongi’s scrutiny.

The king took another step forward, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “It seems I must remind you of the boundaries of your stations. This is a matter of the crown, and you do not dictate terms to your king.”

He leaned forward slightly, the light casting his mask in stark relief. “The alliance and marriage is secure. And should any of you dare suggest otherwise beyond this chamber, you will find yourselves answering for treason. Am I clear?”

The magistrates bowed hastily, their murmured affirmations overlapping in a cacophony of submission.

“Good,” Yoongi said curtly. He turned on his heel, but paused in the threshold, he glanced back, his voice laced with finality.

“You should all be preparing for the coronation of your new Queen, not gossiping about her like wives.”

🍊

The nobles of Daegu and Busan lined the pews, resplendent in their finest robes, but the weight of solemnity muted their grandeur. The coronation of a queen was not a spectacle, but it was a declaration of divine order, a moment where heaven and earth seemed to meet.

Y/n approached the altar, regal and unyielding. Her coronation gown. It was a masterpiece of ivory silk and golden embroidery that gleamed in the dim light. A blood red velvet robe, lined with ermine, cascaded behind her, carried by Y/f/n, whose steady presence grounded her. 

And in the pews, Dowager Queen, Min Song observed. Her eyes fixed on Y/n, watching the young woman’s every move. To the casual observer, her expression might seem mild, but beneath the surface, there was a calculated gleam. Her thoughts were already turning. Y/n was no longer just a queen of Daegu and Busan, but Cyprus as well, and she was certain this vampire was going to suck her son’s kingdom dry.

But she would find some way to control this knew queen, or even get rid of her if the opportunity arrived. 

Y/n could not see him. He was nowhere in sight in the crowed, but she felt his eyes on her. She knew he was somewhere watching, studying her every move. 

And he was in fact doing just that. 

Min Yoongi watched her from the balcony where no one saw him. The silver edges of his mask glinted faintly, his presence as commanding as it was mysterious. His posture was composed, his gloved hands resting on the cold stone railing, but his mind was as sharp as the edge of a sword. This coronation wasn’t just a formality, but it was a calculated move to solidify alliances to bind his kingdom to hers. Yet Yoongi was not here to celebrate her. He was here to observe, to judge, and to control.

Last night she refused to preform her wifely duties, listed why she despised him, how he was a tyrant and unholy to rule. She believed it was God who pointed kings and queens to rule. It made him chuckle to himself. He would bring her to her knees. He only needed time.

He tried to find some sort of flaw about her performance, but just like during the wedding, she showed no sign of nervousness. Not a twitch in her fingers, no tremble in her stance. But of course, after all, she had spent her life preparing for moments like this, a lifetime of expectation, and now that it had come, she was ready. She was every inch a queen, and even he could not deny that. 

He watched as she passed by the throne to make her recognition. She faced the East side of the chair of the throne and then the other three sides in this order South, West and North and at every of the four sides the priest, with a loud voice spoke to the people. 

“Sirs, I here present unto you Queen Y/n, your undoubted Queen. Wherefor all you who have come this day do your homage and service. Are you willing to do the same?”

“GOD SAVE QUEEN Y/N!” The people at each of the four sides spoke in unison, like a mighty lion’s roar. 

Y/n bowed to them, and the dumbs and trumpets were sounded as she kneeled.

“Madam, is your Majesty willing to take the Oath?” she was asked.

“I am willing.”

The Min seal was placed on top of the bible that was brought with her from Cyprus. She placed her hand over both of them. “I solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Daegu, Busan and Cyprus according to their respective laws and customs. I promise, to my power for law, justice and mercy to be executed in all my judgments. I promise to maintain the laws of God and the truth of the Gospel. I declare before God that my whole life, shall be devoted to the service of this imperial nation to which we all belong. All this I promise to do. So help me God.”  She leaned forward, pressing her lips to the cover of the bible, and signed the Oath before she made her way back to the throne and sat down.

As the crown was lifted over her head, Yoongi couldn’t help but notice how effortless she made it look. He could still remembered his coronation as if it happened yesterday. He was thirteen, and incredibly nervous, but with his mother by his side he felt a little at ease. 

Y/n, however had no one, yet she was an excellent performer. No falter, no hesitation in her poise. She didn’t need to struggle for composure. She was born for this. That made something stir within him, and his lips, hidden behind his mask, curved upward in a smirk.

The moment the crown came down on her head, everyone bowed. “Long live Queen Y/n!”

The sound of drums and trumpets danced across the walls. Her eyes swept the room, talking in all the nobles as they bowed down to her. But still, the man she was looking for was nowhere to been seen. 

Until she looked up. 

There he was, watching her from the balcony and their eyes locked. Yoongi’s smirk deepened beneath his mask. He inclined his head ever so slightly, giving her a small bow. It was deliberate and slow mocking, yet regal.