Jungkook focus

Jungkook heaved himself out of the hallway window he had entered the concubine's quarter through and landed back outside. It had been the only way to get inside, although it put a painful amount of strain to his wound. But if he did not want to lose the second portion of his payment, he had to take it like a man.

When he was about to walk around the corner to that side of the quarter that would bring him back to one of the paths where he could walk freely in his disguise as a guard, he had to pull back and hide because of a blue figure that was standing there and blocking his way. Cautiously he peeked around the edge.

What he spotted was dark blue robes, the hair of an unmarried man, and a broad back that radiated importance. And since the crown prince was still on the battlefield and the first prince had been spotted by Jungkook inside his rooms when he had dropped the poison, there was only one person left on the list of young males with blue robes. The third prince, Kim Taehyung, Dahee's brother. Interested, Jungkook kept his eyes fixed on the figure.

He was sure that he had seen the prince once or twice on the streets of the capital, but he had never been of interest to him, so he had not bothered to look closer. Now, however, he was curious what kind of guy the third prince was so that his sister believed he was a better king than the praised and glorified crown prince Namjoon.

"Stop chewing on that," he heard a deep voice before the man crouched down to lift something from the ground.

Jungkook had to suppress a snort when he saw the puppy head that was poking over one of the broad shoulders now. The third prince was raising a dog? Well, the palace probably thought differently about animals. And after all the things he had come to experience with the royal family, Jungkook would not be surprised if one of the princes held a pet pig.

"And you grow well," the deep voice continued with an audible smile to it. "I will bring you some water." The hand that was not holding the puppy caressed one of the plants that surrounded the prince's feet.

Now Jungkook could only stare in horror. The little princess' brother must be sick in the head. He was talking to radishes. Talking to animals, fine. Jungkook had been there, done that. But talking to vegetable?

"Little princess, are you trying to ruin your own kingdom?" Jungkook whispered to himself, still looking at the prince in disbelief. He had expected a regal, fierce man who wielded a sword like it was an extension of his arm, not a soft guy who carried puppies and talked to radishes.

He slipped back behind the corner and leaned against the wall to sort his thoughts. In the end, who was he to care? He was born in Baekje and raised in Goguryeo, so he could not care less about what happened to Silla. For all he knew, this kingdom could go down in flames or raise to the top of the three kingdoms. As long as he had food and wine, he would not oppose to either.

But he should talk to the little princess. Her brother was mad in the head, and someone had to tell her.

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The day before, Dahee had told him that he should shut up and follow her order instead of thinking too much about her brother. By her words, there was more to the third prince than Jungkook had seen, and she would know since she had grown up with him.

That had piqued Jungkook's interest. So, after he had fed the first prince another two drops of the poison, he was strolling the palace grounds to find the third prince and give him a second chance to prove to him that he was more than a weakling.

After some useless hours of searching and almost giving up, he had finally found the prince between the trees of the little hill at the northern end of the palace grounds. The puppy was still fiddling around the man's feet and Jungkook almost expected to hear the other talking to the trees when he crouched down in front of one.

But against his expectations, the prince looked like he was digging for something. The picture of a money box crossed Jungkook's mind before he remembered that this was the third prince he was watching and not some robber in the mountains. This one probably could have all the money he longed for with only a single word.

"Stop trying to eat everything you see," the deep voice from yesterday said and the puppy was softly pushed away.

Food? Was the third prince digging for hidden sweets? Jungkook shook his head. This thought was just as stupid as the one with money. But what was this weird guy digging for? Or was he digging in order to hide something? But what would he hide? Secret letters about bribing the court, so that he could take over his brother's position as the heir? Would a person who talked to radishes do something like that? Well, he was Dahee's brother after all.

Jungkook was burning with curiosity, but he could not walk any closer, or the screaming red of the stupid guard robes would give him away between all the green and brown of the trees. This uniform sure was helpful for getting inside the palace, but it was anything but when it came to hiding.

"Come, come. Mother is waiting," the deep voice said finally, and the third prince stood up, brushing off his dirty hands on his royal robes.

For the first time, Jungkook had the chance to see some of the third prince's face when the man turned to walk up the path. He had a strong jaw and neck and a prominent nose, which, combined with his broad back and way he carried himself, gave him the appearance of a swordsman. Maybe the little princess was telling the truth, and this one was not as weak as he seemed at first.

When the prince was finally out of sight, Jungkook hurried to find the place the man had been digging at. But to his surprise there was a visible bulge of earth the size of his fist, graced with a flowerhead. Who in their right mind would hide something in such an obvious way?

Not sure what to make of it, Jungkook began digging for the thing the third prince tried to hide. When he was about a hand's width deep, his fingers touched something soft and white, so he took it out. It was a cloth of expensive fabric that held something that was light and could easily fit Jungkook's palm.

When the content touched his hand though, Jungkook instantly let it drop. It was a dead bird.

"Little princess, is your brother retarded?" he whispered to himself and groaned.

Then he looked at the dead bird again. It was a boring one which you could find anywhere in the woods. Small, dust-brown feathers, and nothing beautiful about it. Too uninteresting even for toymakers on the market. Why would a prince make an effort to burry a bird that had no value at all? In a silken handkerchief at that.

With a sigh, Jungkook stood up, kicked the bird corpse back into the whole, and pushed the earth back on top with his foot. Stupid. So stupid. Once he was done with his job, he should leave Silla as fast as possible to avoid the reign of this silly-in-the-head future crown prince.

He looked at the handkerchief he was still holding. Should he dispose of it? But then again it looked valuable and after washing out the stench of death it could be used again. With a shrug he pushed it between his lapels and followed the path uphill. If the son was mush in the head and the daughter was a demoness of rare occurrence, then what was the mother like?

To reach the top of the hill without being seen was unlikely, so Jungkook decided to take advantage of the little forest he was surrounded by and climbed one of the trees when he was close enough to the crown of the little hill. Apparently, the small landmark held a pavilion.

He could see the blue-robed figure of the prince and a green-robed figure of a woman. Her hair was glittering with gold and expensive stones in a way that made it hard for Jungkook not to think of the riches he could buy with just the head garnish. Maybe he should not kill the crown prince but steal from the consort? Then again, it would be hard to do business on the streets with royal jewelry, so he discarded the idea.

Mother and son seemed to be in high spirits. Regardless of Jungkook not being able to hear the words being spoken, he could hear the prince's laughter and how animatedly he was speaking to the woman, accompanied by some barks of the puppy.

It was a sight that stirred a well-known feeling in Jungkook's guts, which he tried to suppress by all means. It was futile for a man of his age still to be sad about not having a mother. His master had explained to him that his parents had died early and had handed little Jungkook into the martial arts master's care, and the old man had always been good to him, strict but good. But whenever Jungkook had seen boys clinging to their mother's dresses and successfully whining for some sweets or toys he had felt deprived of something. Master had never given in to his begging.

But to be mad about that now was stupid. He was a grown man and he definitely did not need a mother anymore. If anything, this showed that the third prince was still a clingy child that could not let go of his mother's dress. To be this joyful in front of an elder... he must be spoiled rotten.

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The little princess had told him to be careful today since the crown prince had returned yesterday and all the guards were on high alert because of the assassinations from before. Thus, Jungkook had decided not to search for the third prince today. It was not worth his time anyway. Who would want to watch a mad man burying birds and talking to radishes? How many silken handkerchiefs must have met a tragic end because of this strange prince's quirks?

But fate seemed to have a different idea.

After Jungkook had changed back to his normal clothes, he had decided to go out to treat himself to some sweets and wine. But before he had been able to pull out as much as one piece of the coins he had exchanged for the little princess' silver, he saw a well-known figure passing him. Even without the blue of the royal robes he would recognize this man everywhere.

Well, if fate wanted him to meet the third prince today as well, he would not object. Pulling his straw hat deeper into his face, he followed the other. It was strange how not a single person bowed in front of the royal son. Did they not see his heritage in his step? The way he held his head and shoulders? It was clear as daylight to Jungkook. Even if the royal background seemed farfetched in those plain clothes, one should at least expect a member of the court under the straw hat.

"A basket of buns," he heard the familiar deep voice speaking and halted at the chicken vendor that was next to the bun stall to peak through the cages. A gentle smile grazed the lips that peeked out from underneath the straw hat, and Jungkook noticed a little mole on the prince's bottom lip that reminded him of his own.

What did a prince need steamed buns for? Could he not get them from the royal kitchen? Or were buns too mundane for the royal dinner table?

"Are ya lookin' for somethin' in particular, young master?" a voice startled Jungkook from behind.

The chicken vendor was looking up at him with a big seller smile, and Jungkook hastily lowered his head to hide his face. "No, just strolling," he answered quickly and stepped out from behind the cages to follow the dancing straw hat that slowly vanished in the masses of people.

A moment later he had caught up with the third prince and watched starstruck how the man handed the basked with steaming buns over to a group of beggars.

Buns for beggars? Why not money like every normal person did? The palace sure had enough silver to give. Why was this man so strange? And why did it bother Jungkook so much?

Irritated, he snatched one of the buns from a beggar's hand and bit into it while following the straw hat further down the road. It was filled with meat. Who in their right mind would buy those useless dirty beggars meat buns?

"Chunghee!" a female voice called out behind him, making Jungkook halt in his steps.

Today fate seemed to be in a silly mood, he thought before turning around and following the direction of that voice.

"Chunghee, stop running around. There are too many people," the little princess scolded her son.

"Your brother wastes money on meat buns for beggars," he told her without introduction.

Startled the woman looked up at the black-clad man that was standing too close to her before she peeked under his hat and let out a relieved breath.

"Sophisticated people give their greetings before starting a conversation," she reprimanded him and took her little boy's hand. The kid looked a little scared at Jungkook. Good.

"Lucky me for being unsophisticated," he replied bored. "But seriously, little princess, your brother's sick in the head. Who in their right mind would give buns to beggars?"

The princess looked at him like he was the retarded one. "Did you ever try to give a beggar money?" she asked him.

"Of course not," Jungkook replied. He had no money to waste on useless things.

"Well, let me tell you: the higher a beggar's earnings of the day, the more likely he is to die of his comrades' hands," she explained with a nasty look in her eyes. "If you want to help a beggar, give him food. If you want to kill a beggar, give him silver."

With that she turned around and left a confused Jungkook behind.

He had to admit that her words made sense. But if it was true, how would a prince know? Someone who had never been hungry or cold, did they understand what surviving meant? Had someone told him, or had he found out the hard way? Had the third prince maybe killed a beggar?

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On the fourth day of poisoning, Jungkook began to question his fate. When he was about to leave the palace grounds through the west gate like he always did, he was stopped by a horde of royal guards who pulled him into their practice grounds.

"You don't wanna miss the show, brother. Come watch," one of them said and took hold of Jungkook's arm to pull him inside.

"Miss Park is here, miss Park is here," another shouted and Jungkook felt completely ridiculed. What was wrong with these men?

A little concerned that he might be recognized, he came to stand in the shadows of the entrance and only peeked outside through the gauze of his guard hat. And, of course, it had to be the third prince whom he was looking at. Was there no day he could spend without seeing that strange man?

Just yesterday evening the little princess had teased him for running after her little brother. Even just remembering the conversation made Jungkook's skin crawl.

"Why are you so interested in my brother, little brute? Did you not say that you only work for money?" Dahee had asked him, having caused Jungkook to struggle with his words. "Then why are you following him even outside the palace? Is there something I should know?"

He had not been able to answer that, so he had just rambled something about being curious and meeting by accident and no intention to kill him, but she had only looked at him with a devious grin that was implying something that could not have been further away from murder and that Jungkook did not want to think about.

As if he had any hidden interest in that retarded man.

A clank of blades made him snap out of his dark memories and he raised his eyebrows impressed when he saw that it was the little prince fighting in the middle of the yard. So, he did know how to wield a sword. And his movements were not bad either. Nothing extraordinary, but the basics were solid and quick. His feet worked fast and without a stumble, and he never showed a weak spot in his defense. It was good work in regard of survival, but he would not win like this.

A few blows later, Jungkook frowned. Now the little prince had given up his greatest advantage by turning in a way that made him stand with his front facing the sun. What a dimwit. The first rule of fighting was to keep the sun in your back.

But to his surprise, it was not the prince losing his sword in the next second but the little girl that had been fighting with him. What had happened?

"How dare you play dirty tricks on me!" the girl shouted and gave the little prince a playful shove that did not move him at all.

The man just smiled mischievously and gestured her to pick up her sword while the guards around the yard were booing. They were booing out a prince! What in the world had happened to those morons? Why did no one give them a beating for being disrespectful?

Jungkook snorted and was about to turn around and leave when the girl gestured one of the sitting men to take her place so that she could drink some water. The guy was hurrying to obey, and in the next moment a new fight started.

This one was more vicious, clearly fueled by rivalry between men, but the third prince did not change his tactics at all. He kept his pace steady and did not try any showy moves unlike his opponent. It was like he was waiting for something.

When it happened this time, Jungkook saw it. The reflection of the prince's blade was lingering over the guard's eyes when the prince was blocking a blow from above, so that the man was forced to close his eyes from the brightness. And in the next moment the poor man's sword was flung to the side.

Jungkook chuckled amazed. This little prince was a sneaky one. Who would have guessed that a guy who talked to radishes and buried birds would be sly enough to play tricks on an opponent during sparring?

I get it, little princess, Jungkook thought. This is what you meant when you told me there is more than what one look could reveal.

Satisfied with today's findings Jungkook turned around and left the palace grounds. He had learned something very interesting today. Even though the third prince appeared gentle and kind, maybe even dense, in his day-to-day life, in battle he would calmly watch his opponent until the moment for his attack had come, and then he would strike with whatever method would bring him victory.

Jungkook would be lying if he said he was not impressed. This little prince -no- this prince had achieved what Jungkook's master had never been able to force into his head: do not let your heart guide your weapon. Jungkook could not ban the excitement of a confrontation from his moves; he would always allow his boiling blood to take over. But this prince, he was cold calculation.

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