Chapter Text
“He ask for Third Prince’s hand.”
“What kind of blasphemy!” Jimin heard his father, the King roared and he flinched involuntarily. He has only ever seen his father this angry twice in his life. Once when Duke of Jeolla province, his third uncle, staged a coup to evade his wrongdoings in Ministry of Taxation. He was executed and his family exiled. Jimin had been young, only remembering fragments of chaos and anger. So much anger. He didn’t like it. He likes calm, stability and peace.
So, when he saw his father’s burning anger for the second time, he was shaken. And the reason… it made him sick to his stomach.
“How dare he ask for my son? He is a demon!” his father shouted again, at no one in particular, but also at everyone.
“But he is a King nonetheless. Ruthless one at that. We won’t stand a chance if he decides to ….” the councillor was interrupted by the crown prince. “Well, we have alliance with three Kingdoms, we won’t be standing alone.” Namjoon said in a calm, but steady voice and Jimin exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“You are right in this matter Your Highness. But it is not a guaranteed win. There were many cases of Kingdoms falling even with alliances” the councillor informed.
“It is curious though. Why the Third Prince?” the minister of strategy asked, his tone tinged with suspicion. Namjoon’s gaze sharpened, cold and deliberate. “What are you implying?” he countered, a slight edge creeping into his voice.
Jimin watched the exchange quietly. He knew Namjoon well. He is protective and vigilant, especially when it came to him. And yet… Jimin also understood the basis of the minister’s doubt. Who wouldn’t question it? He was, after all, the Third Prince. A title that felt hollow, imposed, a label he had never earned in the way his brothers had.
His father, the King, had four children. Kim Seokjin, the First Prince, an omega, married to the crown prince of Min Kingdom, Min Yoongi. Kim Namjoon, the second in line, the Crown Prince, an alpha, married to Jung Hoseok, the omega heir from Jung Kingdom. Kim Taehyung, the Fourth Prince, a wild alpha, adored and reckless, a heart that belonged to everyone and no one at once.
And then there was Jimin.
The Third Prince. A mere accident, a deviation. Older than Taehyung by only a handful of months, yet denied the Kim name, denied the legitimacy it carried. Jimin had grown up knowing fragments of truth: the whispers of his mother’s youth, her love that dared to defy a forbidden rule, the exile she suffered for it.
A consort who should have never conceived an heir. But she did, secretly, and given birth to Jimin. She then suffered the consequences by inner court ruling, the queen dowager had commanded the exile to make an example out of her. She had died alone, in that cold cabin, a casualty of choice and chance. At least Jimin was saved, at the mercy of the queen who protected him and raised him together with her three sons. But Jimin had never belonged fully. Not in name, not in right. His existence was a shadow behind the formalities of court life, a reminder of a mistake no one dared speak of aloud.
He had visited her tomb only once, accompanied by Taehyung. The visit had left him strangely empty, the grief that should have weighed on his chest absent, replaced by something numb, something indifferent. Perhaps it was easier that way, to feel nothing at all.
He looked at Namjoon then, the protective glint in his brother’s eyes, and felt the strange mix of comfort and guilt that always accompanied it.
“I do not mean to be rude, and it is not my intention to disrespect the Third Prince or our Kingdom. But the demon king could offer to marry any of the heir from the bigger Kingdoms for political purpose. I am just merely curious why he wants to marry our Third Prince.” the minister added, but the implication lingering in the air felt sharp, impossible to ignore.
“I don’t care why! I am not marrying my son to the demon king. Relay this message!” his father shouted again. Jimin might have felt relief if he believed the anger came from love, like Namjoon’s unwavering protectiveness. But he didn’t. He knew this roar wasn’t born of care. It was pride. The stubborn, unyielding pride of a king who could not bear to bend to the demand.
“Well… as your wish Your highness.” the ministers relented. But Jimin can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. The fear to the consequences of such denial is evident. The demon king of Jeon kingdom is known to be ruthless, scary, and powerful. He could easily crushed the Kim kingdom if he wishes so. They all know that this is a thread they should tread carefully.
In the coming days, the internal court becomes busy. Meetings were held, scrolls were written, envoys were sent. Jimin, all throughout the three days, stay quiet. Seokjin sent letters trying to console him, reminding him that Min Kingdom stood ready for war if Jeon Kingdom forced their hand. Taehyung rushed back from his monthly hunting trips and sat beside Jimin, trying to accompany him. The younger prince tried, with clumsy jokes and wild antics, to pull laughter from him. Jimin did laugh, once, or twice, each time fleeting, like a candle flickering against the night.
But at the quiet of the night, he held his breath, waiting for the decisions the internal court is going to decide. He knows he has to follow whatever the decision is. And he is willing to follow them. He would follow because he loved peace, because he valued stability above all else. Whatever sacrifices it required, he would bear them quietly. For his brothers. For his kingdom. For his people.
The decision came on the fourth day. The internal court decided that Jimin is to marry the crown prince from a smaller kingdom, Lee Changmin. Jimin nodded. Quietly. There was no joy in the motion, no relief. Only the calm acceptance that had settled over him like a familiar weight. It was what was expected, what was necessary. And he would comply. Always.
His brothers were not happy. But they can’t rule over the power of his father and the ministers’ assertion. It was this… or a union with the Demon King.
Jimin didn’t need to think twice. The choice had already been made for him, and he would bear it, as he always did. It was better this way anyway. The Demon King would move on to the next “available” prince, perhaps a higher-ranking omega from a larger kingdom and the fragile peace would be restored. Jimin could almost feel the weight lifting, though not entirely. Peace came at a cost, and he had already learned to carry his share quietly.
The marriage ceremony was arranged quietly. Partly out of fear because no one wanted to provoke the Demon King’s wrath. Partly because the Third Prince’s wedding was never meant to be grand. It was not about celebration or joy; it was merely another thread in the web of political alliances, a formality to strengthen ties, nothing more. Jimin watched it all with a calm detachment, aware that for him, the ceremony mattered less than the weight it carried.
While choosing the fabrics of his wedding robe, Jimin saw Tae came into his room, flopped down on his bed, elbow nudging Jimin’s arm. “Well… at least we don’t have to deal with those endless palace dancers,” he said with a grin, though his eyes flickered with worry.
Jimin let a faint smile tug at his lips. “I suppose there’s a silver lining,” he murmured, keeping his voice low.
“Jimin, my baby brother...”
“Hey! I am older than you!” Jimin retorted sternly, but a faint smile forming in this lips. Tae sometimes acts like he is older because he is an alpha but Jimin will have none of it. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t about age or rank. It was the protectiveness his brothers carried for him, a quiet armor he had always felt surrounding him, even when he pretended not to notice.
"Ok ok! Jimine, you know I always have your back, right? No matter what" Taeyung reassured. And Jimin knew. He knew it well. But he also knew that his brothers' power had limit. Hell! His kingdom, including the alliances, had limit to what they can do. Jimin would not risk it. Not the lives of his brothers or his kingdom. But he did't say this to Tae. He just muttered, with a faint smile "I know...".
The next day, Seokjin arrived from Min Kingdom, together with his husband. He came to Jimin, eyes shining with unleashed tears. “Jimin…” Seokjin’s voice trembled, a mixture of relief and sorrow. “I… I wanted to see you before it all… ” Seokjin couldn't finish the sentence.
Jimin felt a strange ache in his chest. He reached out, hesitating for a heartbeat before letting Seokjin pull him into a tight embrace. It was brief, almost painfully so, but it carried years of unspoken worry, of love he rarely let himself acknowledge.
“You’re safe, and you will be even if you choose nothing. You know that right?” Seokjin whispered, resting his forehead against Jimin’s. Jimin knows.
Jimin closed his eyes, letting the warmth wash over him. Safety. Peace. Stability.
Taehyung hovered nearby, arms crossed, pretending not to watch but unable to hide the worried chewing of his lips, a habit he couldn’t stop.
Jimin allowed himself the faintest laugh, fragile but genuine. For a moment, amidst the formalities, the alliances, the unyielding weight of duty, he felt… almost free.
Maybe it would be worth it after all.
The marriage ceremony was scheduled for the eighth day after the Demon King’s demand. Too fast. Too quiet. Too small for a royal wedding. But Jimin had no complaints.
The Lees arrived the same day, their carriages modest, bearing only minimal gifts and attendants. Everything was subdued—just as it was meant to be. Jimin was to marry quietly and leave for Crown Prince Lee’s kingdom as soon as the ceremony concluded, all on the same day. There was no celebration, no grandeur, no lingering. It looked more like a funeral, Jimin thought sarcastically. And yet… in the quietness, he found a strange, calm acceptance.
The time of the marriage ceremony, according to the astrologers, had arrived in the middle of the day. Hot, burning sun accompanying the quiet ceremony. Jimin entered the hall dressed in deep red wedding robes, silk heavy against his skin, embroidered with gold threads that marked his rank as a prince. The ornate headpiece rested firmly atop his hair, its weight a steady reminder of who he was.
The hall was quiet. No grand orchestra. No sea of nobles whispering behind jeweled fans. Only selected officials, a handful of witnesses, and the Lees standing in restrained dignity.
“First bow to Heaven and Earth,” the officiant announced solemnly.
Jimin lowered himself with practiced elegance, Lee Changmin, doing the same opposite him. His expression remained serene, almost detached.
“Second bow to the ancestors.”
He bowed again, mind fleetingly brushing past faces long gone. His mother’s name surfacing unbidden before he gently pushed it away. This was not the time.
“Third bow to each other.”
Before he could bow, Jimin heard it. Actually, he felt it before he heard it. An ignition that burns hot, different from the burning sun. Then, he saw it.
“STOP THIS WEDDING! IMMEDIATELY” An echo, vibrating throughout the hall.
The command cracked through the hall like thunder, echoing against stone pillars and gilded ceilings, vibrating through his bones. Gasps erupted. Metal clanged as guards instinctively reached for their weapons.
Jimin lifted his head slowly.
At the entrance of the hall, framed by blinding sunlight, stood a figure cloaked in black and gold, presence alone enough to silence the room. The heat that rolled off him was not natural. It was oppressive, coiling, alive.
The Demon King.
So he had not moved on.