Jungkook.

— Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

A week ago, the kingdom was rocked by terrible news: Queen Wisteria had died, unable to overcome the illness that had struck her down four months earlier. People mourned sincerely – Wisteria was beloved for her gentle nature and kind heart. The funeral was held on an unprecedented scale, but life soon returned to normal. Everyone, except one, returned to their daily lives.

King Jungkook remained gloomy. While he might once have been in a good mood, he was now never seen in one. He had become a shadow, silently gliding through the castle corridors.

Taehyung, the butler, was especially close to the queen. She often consulted him, confided in him, and shared her thoughts. Her departure left a deep, aching void within him. But what was his own grief compared to the king's?
Every day, as Taehyung stepped out onto the porch to run his next errand, he saw the same sight: Jungkook sitting on a bench by his wife's tombstone. The king didn't cry. At least, the butler never saw him. He simply sat there, staring at her portrait carved in stone, and could spend hours like that until someone or something pulled him out of his stupor.

That day, Taehyung walked out onto the porch again. He saw a familiar silhouette by the grave and bit his lip until it hurt. It was unbearable to watch. He set the tray down on the table by the door and, gathering his courage, slowly approached, trying to make sure the king noticed him.
Jungkook sat motionless, staring at the stone statue of his wife.

“Your Highness,” Taehyung’s voice sounded quiet, almost a whisper.

• You've been sitting here for four hours already.

The king didn't move. Even his breathing seemed to have stopped.

“Go away,” his lips barely moved as he released the word, as if every movement was difficult.