ten

                                    

                                          


                          
Jungkook walked down the hall, letter in hand to be sent to Namjoon and his parents when he heard Seokjin calling for him as he passed a room. He stilled and backtracked, slipping his head into the room only to go red in the face. Seokjin lounged on one of the decorated sofas, twirling the black ribbon around his neck between his fingers. But what really caught Jungkook off guard was the group of ladies in various states of undress fluttering around the room. They laced up each other's corset and clothed each other like children would dolls. 
                          
"I'm sorry!" he chirped out, eyes wide and nervous. He made a move to step out only for one of the ladies that kept Seokjin company–Mafalda–hurried over and grabbed him by the wrists. He stuttered out protests and cast his eyes down to the ground, trying desperately not to look at the way her breasts bounced in her undergarments. 
                          
"Oh, he's so cute , Seokjin. Why don't you bring him around more often?" she asked, a childish pout on her painted face. 
                          
"Because he is too busy being married to the king, Darling. You know how demanding my brother can be." There wasn't an ounce of apology in Seokjin's tone as he smiled up at the lady before he tilted his head to the side, sizing Jungkook up and down. 
                          
"Pray do tell, why are you so red? Surely women's bodies are used in all sorts of art forms in Pennora. Not to mention your history in the medical world."
                          
"Well of course," the young prince mumbled, squirming as another lady came up to his free side and began to twirl his hair, the women around him giggling as they pushed him into another sofa. "The human body is most natural, but it is still intimate. There is a level of privacy when it comes to dressing oneself versus using a body to display art or to heal someone."
                          
"Well dressing people is my art," Colette remarked, a pipe pinched between her lips at the corner before she blew the smoke out with a mischievous smirk. "It is the only reason I married, so that I may stay in high fashion for all of my days."
                          
"You pretend as though you aren't from wealth," Seokjin responded dryly only for her to roll her eyes. 
                          
"Semantics. So I loved him at some point, is that a crime? The only reason I stay married is to stay in high fashion."
                          
Jungkook frowned at the confession, what a horrible reason. The way she spoke of marriage was as if loving someone was the wrong reason to get married. Even Jungkook married for love. Maybe not love for Jimin, but love for his country. He still held hope in his heart that he and Jimin would be able to share an amorous connection. 
                          
"Oh, I've upset the puritan," she pouted. Though Jungkook had learned to read the Thessavalian art of sarcasm, her words were drowned in it. 
                          
"I'm not a puritan," he argued, Mafalda and the other girl perched next to him began to giggle. 
                          
"You dress like one," The socialite countered. Jungkook looked down at his clothes and frowned. It was true he wore more modest clothing than most of Thessaval's people but that was partially due to his upbringing in a warmer climate. Not to mention he favored the loose fabrics of Pennora's attire more than the skin–tight clothing they wore even in the cool months. 
                          
"Give him a makeover then," Seokjin suggested, hand reaching out towards Colette, who handed him her pipe with ease. Her dark eyes lit up with excitement. 
                          
"Oh yes, I think I will."
                          
Within seconds she was on her feet, throwing the gowns she had laid out to the side. Jungkook watched with wide eyes only to jolt in surprise when he was brought to his feet. Mafalda made quick work of undoing his laces and his buttons.