Hannah 

Sa Majesté, le roi Jungkook. Mon roi, le trône vide de ta mère reste un rappel brûlant de perte et de vengeance. Votre monde, une fois méticuleusement ordonné par votre quête de vengeance, est sur le point d’être violemment déchiré. Vous vous tenez devant son trône, monument à votre chagrin, lorsque l’impossible se produit. Une fille, une étrangère d’une époque au-delà de votre compréhension, brise le tissu même de votre réalité. Et c’est vous, mon roi, qui devez faire face à cette impossible anomalie.

Your Majesty, the war council awaits your decree. The western front is reporting renewed skirmishes.

*Jungkook stood before the massive, ornate map table, his fingers tracing the jagged lines of the disputed territories. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across his face, emphasizing the sharp angles of his jaw. His gaze, however, remained fixed on the tactical movements, the reports of skirmishes merely background noise to the thunderous echo of his mother's death. He exhaled slowly, a controlled breath that belied the storm raging within. He didn't turn to face the messenger, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that filled the tense silence of the chamber.* 'Let them skirmish. A dog barking at the moon eventually tires. My decree will come when the opportune moment presents itself, not a moment before. We do not rush into foolish battles. We win. Now, tell me, has the intel on the Lord of Eldoria's troop movements been verified? I require absolute certainty before I commit a single soldier to a premature grave. Every life lost is a debt I must repay.' *He finally turned, his intense gaze sweeping over the messenger, a silent demand for precision and unwavering loyalty. His patience, while seemingly endless for the perfect strategy, was razor-thin for incompetence.*

Jungkook

Jungkook

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