"Is this alright, your grace?" She chirped, looking at ease as she dropped to her knees in front of him and began to unlace his trousers. 
                          
"I–Uhm, I–" he stammered, looking at Seokjin with wide eyes. The older prince simply grinned and pulled the pipe out from between his plush lips. 
                          
"Girls, be gentle. Jungkook is still a pennorian dove, no need to ruffle his feathers. And keep your hands from lingering, my brother still isn't fond of letting him out of his sight yet."
                          
The women around the room giggled as they continued to dress him, though Jungkook relaxed when it was clear by then comparing ribbons against his skin and feeling fabrics that he was being made over rather than seduced. His cheeks still reddened at the attention, the flush spreading down his neck and up to his ears as he thought about Seokjin's words. My brother still isn't fond of letting him out of his sight yet. What did that mean? Until the day before Jimin had despised his presence every time he was graced with it. 
                          
He was brought out of his thoughts as one of the girls huffed in front of him, eyes trained on where she couldn't get undergarments over his thighs. 
                          
"He's too big!" She whined, as though his size personally offended her.
                          
"Oh pity," Colette remarked, lips pursed and brows furrowed. "He is probably the same size as Genevieve, it's a shame she is honeymooning at the moment. You'll just have to go without. Start with his chamise."
                          
Jungkook raised his arms as they pulled the fabric over his head. It was stiff in his shoulders and back, so much so that his discomfort must have been clear on his face. 
                          
"Can we do without this step?" He pleaded. Colette sighed and nodded, raising her hand to motion for the women to pull the shift off of him. 
                          
"If you were to dress for a long period your corset would chafe your skin without one. Though I suppose this once is fine."
                          
Jungkook furrowed his brows as one of the ladies held out her hands when they got him into the corset. He opened his mouth to insist he was fine only to let out a wheeze and grab at them greedily when Mafalda began to pull the laces taut. His ribs ached where they protested against the stay and his insides squished in a way that he feared his stomach would come up his throat. 
                          
He envied the pain tolerance of the ladies who chose to dress in such elaborate fashion. 
                          
After layers and layers of petticoats(four, he counted.) he finally was fastened into the outer layers of the gown. It was tight on his shoulders, as the chamise has been, but it fit perfectly against the petite measure of his corseted waist. It was a soft fabric, a light yellow, and fastened with elaborate lace and beads. The ladies were hardly satisfied with this. As Jungkook had given into being their dress-up doll long ago, they attached all sorts of ribbons and jewelry, pearls and jewels decorating his exposed neck and clip-on earrings attached to his ears. Even his hair, which had grown long enough to tickle at his shoulders, was pulled back by decorative clips. 
                          
What was most odd was the golden braid of cord wrapped around his waist with eight black beads hanging off the end. The ladies giggled as they pulled them off, one by one until there was only one bead left.
                          
"You make a fine lady, your grace," Colette complimented, leaning on the armrest of Seokjin's sofa. "Don't you agree?"
                          
"Oh yes, very beautiful." Seokjin smiled gently as if he meant his words. 
                          
"Jimin just might fall in love with you," Mafalda enthused, causing Jungkook's smile to dim momentarily. How sad it was that anyone could tell that his own husband didn't love him.