Chapter 69 || BOUND AND TORN BY PROPHECIES

 

A Table of Thorns

 

The palace dining hall buzzed like a hive of whispers and veiled intentions. The tension from Lady Vaelora’s confrontation with Jungkook still lingered in the air, thick and perfumed with artificial charm. The chairs had barely been set, the silver gleaming, when the room shifted again.

Yoongi entered.

 

His stormy eyes scanned the hall like a predator, landing instantly on Jungkook. Ignoring the sea of noblewomen and princesses, he walked to him and seated himself beside him without a word — disregarding all etiquette.

 

A few gasped. One princess whispered, “Who is he?”

Nyla raised a brow, silently warning Yoongi to behave. But the young man crossed his arms, jaw clenched, daring anyone to challenge him.

 

Before more could unravel, Lady Vaelora stood with a theatrical smile. Her voice rang with sweet venom.

“As a gesture of goodwill — and to aid His Highness in better understanding those who have gathered from far and wide — this breakfast was arranged. So the Crown Prince may dine with all potential consorts in peace... and choose wisely when the time comes.”

 

A murmur of delighted giggles followed. A few princesses adjusted their postures, pushing their busts higher, tilting their chins to catch the sunlight just right.

Jungkook’s spine straightened.

 

The breakfast was set on the large table. Dishes from every region of the dragon realm were served — fiery meats, jewelled fruits, and spiced pastries with molten cores. But the food was just decoration. The real feast was the conversation.

 

One princess, with glittering blue scales hidden beneath sheer silk, leaned toward her companion and said too loudly,

“I heard humans cry when they stub their toes. Can you imagine one handling pure dragons?”

 

Jungkook’s hand twitched, but before he could speak, Yoongi growled, “And yet a human is the reason you’re having breakfast in a peaceful kingdom today.”

The princess blinked. Nyla snorted into her goblet.

 

Another noblewoman, more foolish than bold, tried to flirt with Yoongi. “You are a human too. With that brooding face... are you hoping to get a princess for yourself?”

 

Yoongi didn’t even blink. “I’m the dragon’s babysitter and personal guard dog. And I know how to bite one’s limbs off.”

 

She giggled, not catching the threat.

Nyla choked again.

 

Then it began.

A princess draped in gold turned to Jungkook with mock sweetness,

“His Highness deserves someone with lineage and longevity… not a fleeting flower. Why did our ancestors choose a weak human to be a guardian instead of a dragon?”

 

Jungkook remained still.

Nyla, however, leaned forward, eyes gleaming.

“You mean like Lady Vaelora? Who’s been in bloom for centuries and still no suitor?”

 

Silence.

Several princesses snorted into their napkins.

 

Then, the doors opened.

Taehyung entered.

 

The air changed.

 

He was dressed in royal blacks and silver, dragon patterns laced into the folds of his robe. His hair, dark and loose, shimmered like obsidian under sunlight. Eyes sharp. Movements slow. Controlled.

 

He didn’t glance at anyone. Didn’t greet anyone.

He walked past everyone and seated himself across from Jungkook.

 

Gasps flared. Eyebrows rose.

Vaelora’s painted smile froze.

 

He picked up a goblet and took a sip, his gaze flickering across the table but returning to Jungkook — lingering.

“Let’s enjoy the meal,” he said calmly. “I’ll hear from each of you today. But I’ve already seen what strength looks like. And it doesn’t always wear a crown.”

 

Silence. Heavy and telling.

 

A princess on his right, bolder than wise, leaned forward and placed a hand gently on Taehyung’s arm.

“Your Highness, may I say—”

 

But the moment her fingers touched his sleeve, a pulse of invisible energy crackled through the air.

She yelped and jerked back, a faint spark dancing on her fingertips.

 

The table gasped. Taehyung didn’t flinch. He didn’t even look at her.

 

The princess trembled. “W-what was that?”

Nyla leaned toward her, grinning.

“That was a warning. The prince bites too.”

 

Vaelora cleared her throat and smiled tightly.

“Perhaps it’s time to speak of traditions, yes? Of bonds and... markings.”

 

All eyes turned to her.

 

“It’s customary for the chosen queen to be marked during the mating ceremony. It’s a sacred act of union for the royal couple — dragon to dragon. Soul to soul,” she said, her eyes briefly flicking to Taehyung with faux innocence.

 

The mark under Jungkook’s collar burned. He swallowed hard, keeping his expression still. But his eyes met Taehyung’s — and something passed between them.

Pain. Anger. Desire.

He didn’t look away.

 

A hum of tension returned to the hall.

The moment held.

 

Then a loud screech split the air as a messenger dragon landed abruptly on the terrace outside. A guard rushed in, whispering something into Taehyung’s ear.

 

His expression darkened.

 

“Excuse me,” he said, rising. He turned to Jungkook for a fraction of a second — something like an apology flickering in his gaze — before he vanished through the doors.

And the room exhaled.

But the storm was far from over.

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