The Prince’s Shadow

(Jeon Jungkook’s POV)

The palace had never been this silent.

Even the whisper of the wind through the paper doors felt like it feared to be heard.

Jeon Jungkook sat behind his desk, his quill hovering over a half-written decree. He wasn’t reading, not really. His eyes wandered to the far end of the chamber—to the dark figure standing just beyond the lantern’s reach.

Kim Taehyung.

The new bodyguard. The man who had already disrupted the rhythm of the palace without saying a single word.

Jungkook tried not to glance at him, but his gaze betrayed him. Taehyung stood still, hands clasped behind his back, head slightly bowed. His black uniform traced clean, graceful lines down his body. The faint gleam of his sword’s hilt shimmered in the dim light.He was quiet. Too quiet.

Jungkook set the quill down and leaned back in his chair.

“You’ve been standing there for an hour. Don’t you tire of shadows?”

Taehyung’s gaze lifted, calm and unflinching. “Your safety is within them, Your Highness.”

The answer was simple, respectful—but something in it stirred irritation and curiosity at once. Jungkook wasn’t used to such composure, not from someone ranked below him.

Most guards bowed, fumbled, obeyed.

Taehyung watched. Measured.

“Then tell me,” Jungkook said, resting his chin on his palm, “if danger walked through that door right now, what would you do first?”

Taehyung’s eyes flickered to the door, then back to Jungkook. “I would move before you could finish that question.”

The words struck through the quiet like the edge of a blade.

And for a fleeting moment, Jungkook felt something dangerous—a rush of admiration.He looked away quickly, feigning disinterest. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“Prepared,” Taehyung corrected softly.

Later that night, the crown prince walked the palace halls, escorted by his guards. Rain had begun to fall, soft and steady, turning the courtyard into a mirror of ripples and moonlight.

Taehyung followed behind, his footsteps nearly soundless.

They were halfway to the eastern library when a faint whistle split the air—sharp, deadly.

Jungkook froze. Taehyung didn’t.

In an instant, steel flashed. A knife clattered to the ground mere inches from Jungkook’s feet. The guard who had been closest was too slow—but Taehyung had already moved, standing between the prince and the direction of the attack, his blade drawn, his stance steady.“Your Highness, down.”

The command came low and firm. Jungkook obeyed before he could think. The world narrowed to the rain, the sound of Taehyung’s sword meeting another’s, the brief hiss of steel and breath.

Within seconds, the courtyard was still again.

The would-be assassin lay face-down on the wet tiles.

Jungkook’s pulse thundered in his ears. “You—”

“I’m not hurt,” Taehyung said quickly, as though reading his thoughts. His voice was calm, but a thin line of red marked his arm, just below the sleeve.

Jungkook stepped forward before reason could stop him. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s nothing.”

But Jungkook was already pulling a strip of cloth from his robe, reaching for the wound. The distance between them vanished; the rain seemed to slow. When his fingers brushed Taehyung’s skin, warm and solid under his touch, Jungkook’s breath caught.Their eyes met.

The prince saw no fear there—only stillness, deep and unreadable, like the sea before a storm.

“You risked your life,” Jungkook murmured, voice low.

“It’s my duty.”

“You didn’t hesitate.”

“Neither did you, Your Highness.”

The faintest trace of a smile curved Taehyung’s lips, gone before Jungkook could decide if he’d imagined it.

Hours later, Jungkook lay awake in his chamber.

Outside, the rain had stopped, but he could still hear its echo in his head—along with the sound of Taehyung’s blade slicing through air, the sharp inhale when their hands touched.

He turned on his side, staring at the faint outline of the guard stationed beyond the screen. Taehyung hadn’t left his post, even after the attack.“Still awake?” Jungkook asked quietly.

A pause. Then a calm, “Yes, Your Highness.”

“You should rest.”

“I’ll rest when you do.”

Something inside Jungkook tightened. He turned away, pulling the blanket up to his shoulder. “You’re insufferable.”

A soft breath—almost a laugh—answered him. “I’ve been called worse.”

Jungkook didn’t reply. But as sleep finally began to pull him under, he thought he saw, just before the lantern went out, the faintest glimmer of light in Taehyung’s eyes—gentle, protective… and something he couldn’t name.

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