Y / N'S  P O V

Jungkook's face remained impassive for a moment, but there was a shift in the air between us as he responded. "Yes," he said, his voice calm but laced with the weight of duty. "Jasmine is my fiancée."

He didn't offer more at first, but the way he spoke made it clear that this wasn't just about affection or love—it was about responsibility. "Our union is a political alliance, crucial to the stability of my kingdom," he added, his tone even and measured. There was no room for sentimentality in his words, just the cold truth of royal duty.

Hearing him speak so matter-of-factly about it brought the reality of his position into sharp focus. This wasn't some fairy tale or romance; it was a calculated move to secure power, as I had read in my history books. Yet, looking at him now, I couldn't help but wonder if there was more beneath that composed exterior.

I wasn't supposed to care. I wasn't supposed to feel anything beyond curiosity. And yet, as Jungkook confirmed his engagement to Jasmine with such detached certainty, I felt a sharp, unexpected pang in my chest. A flicker of something bitter settled in the pit of my stomach, twisting in a way that was foreign and unsettling.

Jealousy? Disheartenment? It made no sense, but here I was, feeling exactly that. I had no reason to be affected—Jungkook was a king from centuries past, engaged in a political marriage that was probably the cornerstone of his reign. Yet, as I stood there, hearing him speak of his fiancée like she was nothing more than a strategy, I couldn't shake the irrational ache that gnawed at me. It wasn't my place to feel this way, but here it was, bubbling up, unwanted and undeniable.

I tried to shake it off, force myself to focus on the reality of the situation. He's a king. This is all political, I reminded myself, but the logic did little to soothe the knot forming in my chest. The very idea of feeling something more, something beyond the strange friendship we'd formed, felt ridiculous. But the more I thought about it, the worse it got.

I wasn't supposed to feel like this, but as I stood there, listening to him speak so casually about Jasmine, a woman destined to be by his side, I couldn't help but wonder if I had become too close. Too involved. It was just this odd connection between time and circumstance—an accident that had thrown me into his world. But the tightness in my chest told me there was something else, something I hadn't been ready to admit to myself.

The feeling festered, like a small crack in the armor I'd carefully built around myself since ending up here. I found myself wanting to push it all away, laugh it off, but the truth clung to me stubbornly. Even as I stood in the garden, the peaceful surroundings suddenly felt heavy, suffocating. How could I feel this... jealous of a situation that had been set in stone long before I even existed?

"Y/N?"

Jungkook's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts, pulling me sharply back to the present. I blinked, realizing I had been staring at nothing, lost in my own swirling emotions. His eyes were on me, curious but unreadable, and it was clear I had lingered in silence longer than I realized.

"I'll be going now," he said, his tone neutral, though something in his gaze flickered. "I need to attend to her." He didn't need to explain who 'her' was—Jasmine. The name hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. The finality of his words hit me, snapping me out of the tangled mess of thoughts that had taken hold.

I nodded, managing a tight smile, though my heart sank further at the reality of it all. "Of course," I said, trying to sound nonchalant, as if nothing he'd just said had any effect on me. As if I hadn't just felt the strangest, most confusing wave of emotion moments before.

He gave me a brief nod in return before turning, the soft rustle of his robes fading into the garden's quiet as he walked away. And just like that, I was alone again, left with the lingering weight of feelings I hadn't asked for but couldn't quite ignore.

I cursed under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief at myself. Third-wheeling? Seriously, Y/N? The absurdity of it all hit me like a slap. What was I even doing, feeling like this? Jungkook and Jasmine had their own lives, their own history—a political arrangement that had nothing to do with me. Yet, here I was, standing in a garden centuries away from my own world, feeling like some petty extra in a drama I had no business being part of.

I wasn't supposed to care. I wasn't supposed to feel anything beyond mild curiosity about his engagement. But the jealousy? The weird pang in my chest? That wasn't part of the plan. I was just a time traveler stuck in the wrong century, trying to survive long enough to get back home. And yet, somehow, I had let myself get tangled in feelings that didn't belong. Feelings I had no right to.

"Get it together," I muttered to myself, frustrated by the whole situation. This wasn't my story, wasn't my place to feel anything about him and Jasmine. And yet... here I was.

I clenched my fists, determination taking over the muddled confusion, and without another thought, I marched toward my room. Each step felt heavier, weighed down by the strange, unwelcome emotions swirling in my chest. The soft click of my boots against the stone floors echoed through the hallway, but it did little to calm the storm inside me.

I wasn't about to sit there and wallow. No, I needed to pull myself together, shove these feelings somewhere far, far away where they didn't belong. I was here for a reason—to find my way back home, to fix everything that had gone wrong, not to get caught up in royal drama that wasn't mine to begin with.

The sooner I could make sense of all this, the better. But right now, I needed space. Away from him, away from the garden, and definitely away from the thought of Jasmine.

E N D  O F   Y / N's   P O V

𓆩♕𓆪

Jungkook strode through the sunlit corridors, the light streaming through the high windows casting long shadows along his path. His steps were firm, but his mind was not as clear. The brief encounter with Y/N replayed in his thoughts—the way her demeanor shifted when he mentioned Jasmine, the unspoken tension that had crept between them. He tried to push it aside, reminding himself of his responsibilities.

As he approached the open doors of the sitting room where Jasmine awaited him, he paused, drawing a breath. Jasmine was more than just a woman; she was his fiancée, the key to a crucial political alliance. Their engagement had always been a matter of strategy, a union forged in diplomacy, not emotion. Yet today, as he prepared to face her, there was a strange disquiet within him—something he hadn't expected.

Stepping into the room, his eyes fell upon Jasmine. She sat elegantly by the window, her posture perfect, exuding an air of grace that had always come naturally to her. Sunlight bathed the room in a soft glow, reflecting off her polished attire, emphasizing the regal presence she carried. As she turned to face him, a calm, practiced smile crossed her lips, her gaze meeting his with quiet anticipation.

Jungkook returned her smile with a nod, though his mind still lingered on the recent conversation with Y/N. As he approached Jasmine, the warmth of the sun streaming through the windows felt at odds with the strange weight settling in his chest. Jasmine stood up gracefully, her hands clasped in front of her, her expression calm but expectant.

"Jungkook," she greeted him, her voice smooth and formal, much like the nature of their relationship. "I trust all is well?"

"Yes," he replied, his tone neutral, though the words felt automatic. He glanced out the window for a moment, as if the view of the kingdom below might anchor him, then returned his attention to her. "Everything is in order."

Jasmine's eyes studied him, a faint curiosity flickering behind her composed expression. "You seem distracted," she observed, her voice gentle but probing.

Jungkook hesitated, uncertain whether to address the thoughts swirling in his mind. How could he explain that Y/N—someone he barely knew—had somehow disrupted his focus in a way he hadn't anticipated? "I'm just handling a few matters," he replied, deflecting, his tone more clipped than intended.

Jasmine accepted his response with a slight nod, though her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer. She was accustomed to his reserved nature, to the emotional distance he often maintained, but today, even she seemed to sense something deeper at play.

"Shall we discuss the arrangements?" she asked, shifting the conversation back to the reason for their meeting.

"Of course," Jungkook replied, relieved to have something tangible to focus on. He took a seat across from her, forcing his mind to push aside thoughts of Y/N, of the confusion that had been gnawing at him. Yet, despite his best efforts, the faintest trace of those moments in the garden remained, flickering in the back of his mind like an ember that refused to die out.

Jungkook listened as Jasmine began detailing the preparations—the guest list, the seating arrangements, the diplomatic protocols they needed to observe. Her voice was steady, calm, the epitome of a royal consort. She moved through the logistics with ease, her focus sharp, reminding him of why this union was so crucial for his kingdom. She was everything he needed in a partner, efficient and poised.

But as she spoke, his thoughts drifted back to the garden. To Y/N's laughter, her casual defiance, the way she had teased him without fear or reverence. The memory of her snapping that photograph as he let his guard down, the way she had caught him laughing—a king, stripped of his mask for just a second—was still fresh. It unsettled him. Y/N had managed to reach a part of him that even Jasmine, with all her grace and duty, never had.

"Jungkook?" Jasmine's voice pulled him back, her brow slightly furrowed. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes," he lied, blinking away the distraction. "The guest list. We'll need to ensure the eastern dignitaries are placed near the front."

Jasmine nodded, accepting his response without further inquiry, though a shadow of doubt flickered across her face. She was perceptive, always had been. But she didn't press him, instead continuing with her carefully laid-out plans. Yet even as she spoke, the dissonance inside him grew.

The weight of the moment pressed down on him. Here he was, with Jasmine, his future secured in the name of diplomacy, strategy, and the betterment of his people. And yet, his thoughts were tangled in the presence of a girl who had somehow slipped past the barriers he had carefully constructed.

He forced himself to focus, to listen to Jasmine's words, but the sound of Y/N's voice echoed in his mind. Her boldness. Her unpredictability. Her refusal to treat him like a king, but instead like any other person. It was a stark contrast to the ordered, polished world he and Jasmine inhabited. A world where everything had its place, where duty outweighed emotion.

Jungkook sighed internally, pushing those thoughts aside once more. This was his reality. His responsibility. Whatever else stirred inside him, it had to remain buried. He straightened his posture, eyes firmly on Jasmine, and resolved to give her his full attention.

𓆩♕𓆪

J U N G K O O K'S   P O V

As Jasmine left, I retreated to the throne room, hoping the familiar surroundings would offer some solace. The grand space, adorned with opulent tapestries and polished marble, should have been a refuge—a place where I could focus on the kingdom's affairs and regain my composure. Instead, the weight of the afternoon's distraction clung to me like an unwelcome shadow.

Seated upon my throne, I attempted to listen as my advisors presented their reports. Their voices, a blend of formal tones and detailed accounts of the kingdom's affairs, washed over me, but my concentration wavered. I tried to focus on the matters at hand—the agricultural shortages, the trade agreements, and the diplomatic missions—but every word seemed to blur together, overshadowed by the image of Y/N in the garden.

Her laughter, her easy manner, and the way she had captured me on camera with a candid laugh—it was all too vivid, too real. It was a stark contrast to the polished veneer of my royal duties. I found myself shifting uncomfortably in my seat, unable to escape the persistent thought of how she had made me momentarily forget the rigid boundaries I lived by.

The advisors continued, oblivious to my internal struggle. They spoke of alliances, of conflicts, of negotiations that demanded my undivided attention. Yet, my mind kept drifting back to the garden, to the way Y/N had looked through the lens of that strange device. She had a way of making me question the world I knew, of challenging the roles and expectations that I had been so carefully taught to uphold.

I forced myself to focus, nodding in response to the reports, offering brief comments where necessary. But each time I tried to immerse myself in the duties of the kingdom, a flicker of her image would intrude, reminding me of how different my life felt with her unexpected presence. I gripped the armrests of my throne, trying to anchor myself in the responsibilities I had always embraced, but the intrusion of my thoughts was relentless.

It was clear that something had shifted within me, something that defied the order and control I had always maintained. And as I sat there, amidst the weight of my duties and the echoes of the advisors' voices, I couldn't shake the feeling that whatever this change was, it was only beginning to unravel.

After the hearing was over, I made my way toward my private quarters, but a sense of unease followed me. The corridors, usually a familiar passage of my daily life, now felt oddly empty. It had been an entire day since I last saw Y/N. Normally, she would have been around—her presence a constant, unpredictable element in the castle's rhythm. Whether it was her aimless wandering, her sharp comments, or her ability to seize every opportunity to challenge me, she was always somewhere nearby.

This morning, in the garden, Y/N had been her usual, disarming self. Her curiosity had led her to capture a rare moment of levity in a photograph, and her playful provocation had briefly shifted the weight of my responsibilities. Yet since then, she had vanished.

Entering my chambers, I felt the weight of the day settle heavily on my shoulders. The room was as it always was—tastefully decorated with rich tapestries and elegant furnishings—but it seemed oddly silent without the usual hum of activity. I glanced around, half-expecting her to appear from some corner with her characteristic bravado or curiosity. Instead, the room was empty and still, the silence almost oppressive.

I sat on the edge of a richly upholstered chair, staring at the empty space where Y/N had so frequently been. My thoughts wandered to her again—her irreverent charm, the way she had so effortlessly disrupted my routine. Her absence felt oddly conspicuous, a void that was more unsettling than I had anticipated.

Despite the gravity of my duties and the many concerns that filled my days, I found myself distracted by the question of where she had gone. Had she found some other corner of the castle to explore, or was she deliberately avoiding me? The thought was both intriguing and disconcerting.

As I sat in my quiet chamber, I couldn't ignore the strange sense of longing for the familiar chaos she brought into my life. The absence of her presence had created an unexpected emptiness, a void I had not anticipated.

The quiet in my chambers was unsettling, a stark contrast to the usual lively atmosphere Y/N brought with her. Her presence had become a vibrant part of my days, filled with unpredictable energy and sharp wit. Now that she was absent, the silence felt unusually heavy, pressing in on me and making the stillness almost tangible.

As I considered how to address this sudden void, I realized that the matter of the bracelet—something she had lost and that I had promised to help her retrieve—provided a perfect excuse to summon her. It wasn't merely about the bracelet; it was a way to bring her back into my presence. I found myself unexpectedly eager for her company, for the lively conversations and spontaneous moments that had become a welcome part of my routine.

I called for Chin Hae, one of my most trusted aides, and gave him my instructions with a deliberate calm. "Chin Hae, I need you to locate Y/N and bring her to my chambers. We need to discuss the bracelet she lost."

Chin Hae nodded with understanding, his expression attentive. "Of course, Your Majesty. I will find her and ensure she comes to you."

As Chin Hae departed to carry out my request, I found myself reflecting on the real reason behind my desire to see Y/N. The excuse of discussing the bracelet was just a convenient cover; what I truly wanted was the return of her presence. Her unique energy and the vibrant disruption she brought to my routine were more important to me than I had realized. The anticipation of her arrival offered a welcome distraction from the mundane duties that occupied my days.

The morning light filtered through the heavy curtains of my chambers, casting a soft, golden hue across the room. I stirred from a restless sleep, my body heavy with the weight of the previous day's unease. The faint glow of dawn crept over me, and as I blinked awake, I was reminded of the hours spent in fitful slumber, my mind preoccupied with thoughts of Y/N.

The previous evening had been a blur of anticipation and impatience. I had waited for her, the promise of her presence an unexpected source of comfort amidst the demands of my duties. Yet, despite my efforts to remain alert and attentive, I had drifted into sleep while waiting. My chair, once a place of authority, had become an unintended bed as I slumped into its cushions, the sense of waiting turning into a quiet, almost peaceful resignation.

I could still feel the remnants of the tension that had kept me awake. It was odd, this sense of urgency mixed with the soothing calm that had accompanied my rest. I had hoped for a moment of respite, a brief escape from the pressures of leadership, and yet, I had ended up waiting, caught between the anticipation of her arrival and the solace of sleep.

As I stretched and pushed myself upright, I couldn't help but reflect on the peculiar mixture of impatience and tranquility I had experienced. The desire to see Y/N again had been a driving force, and waking up to find the room still empty was a reminder of how much I had come to value her presence. Today, I hoped that she would return and that the tension from the previous evening would dissolve into the familiar rhythm of our interactions.

E N D  O F  J U N G K O O K'S  P O V

𓆩♕𓆪

Y / N'S P O V

I paced back and forth in my room, the frustration bubbling up inside me like an overfilled pot. The sunlight streaming through the window did nothing to lighten the mood I was in. I had hoped that the solitude of my room would offer some clarity, but instead, all I felt was a gnawing irritation at myself.

It wasn't just the situation with Jungkook. It was how I found myself reacting to it. The reality of my feelings had hit me like a ton of bricks, and it was infuriating. How had I managed to let myself become entangled in this emotional mess? The notion was absurd—of all the things I had anticipated facing in this strange new world, dealing with my own feelings for the king was the last on my list.

I flopped down onto the edge of my bed, staring at the intricate patterns of the tapestry hanging on the wall. The image of Jungkook laughing, a moment I had captured with my camera, replayed in my mind. I had never imagined that a single laugh could have such an effect on me. It was maddening how a simple photograph could evoke such a strong reaction. I was supposed to be focused on finding a way back home, not getting caught up in a romantic tangle.

A sigh escaped my lips as I buried my face in my hands. I had no business feeling this way. Jungkook was a king with a political fiancée, and I was merely a traveler caught in the wrong time. Yet, here I was, tangled up in emotions I couldn't quite explain or control. I needed to pull myself together and refocus on the tasks at hand. The last thing I needed was to become a distraction to myself, let alone to the king.

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the world around me, but memories of my time with Jungkook swirled behind my eyelids like a vivid, unwelcome storm. I saw the scene clearly: the harsh, unsettling way those men had harassed me in the marketplace, and Jungkook's swift, merciless response. The cold, resolute way he'd ordered their execution had shocked me, but there was a strange, undeniable sense of safety in his actions, even if it was wrapped in violence.

The image of him standing before me, his gaze steady and unwavering as he insisted I stay in his castle, was another memory that made my heart flutter. I had protested, of course, with my usual stubbornness, but the way he had insisted, a mix of command and genuine concern, had been strangely endearing.

Our interactions had been a blend of friction and unexpected camaraderie. I recalled our silly banter—the way he had teased me, and I had snapped back with my usual mix of sass and frustration. I had cussed at him more than once, each instance filled with a blend of irritation and reluctant admiration. And there were the moments of genuine connection, like when he had watched me practice archery. His curiosity and interest had been sincere, and it was in those quieter, more vulnerable moments that I had seen a side of him beyond the regal façade.

The garden had become a place of unspoken understanding between us. I remembered the laughter we shared amidst the flowers and the quiet conversations that had carried through the rustling leaves. It was here, in this vibrant haven, that we had glimpsed each other's true selves, away from the pressures of court and crown.

Each of these memories caused an uncomfortable flutter in my heart, a mix of emotions that I wasn't prepared to deal with. It was as if every shared moment, every glance, every word had woven an invisible thread between us, pulling me further into an emotional web I wasn't sure I wanted to be a part of. I could no longer deny it—the king had managed to touch a part of me that I had thought was reserved for the distant past and forgotten dreams.

I sat on the edge of the bed, the weight of my own thoughts pressing heavily on me. The memories of Jungkook and our interactions were vivid, each one a thread in a complex tapestry of emotions that I was struggling to untangle. The question, unbidden and persistent, echoed in my mind: Am I falling in love with him?

The idea was almost laughable, if it weren't for the ache it caused in my chest. How could I, someone from a different time and place, entertain such a notion? Jungkook was a king, bound by duty and tradition, and he had a fiancée—Jasmine, who was destined to be his wife. My own situation was a mess of time travel and longing for home, not a romance entanglement with royalty.

I cursed under my breath, frustration mingling with disbelief. How could I let myself get caught up in these feelings? It was absurd to even entertain the thought. I wasn't supposed to be part of his world, and I certainly wasn't supposed to be grappling with emotions that only complicated an already convoluted situation. My presence here was a mistake, a twist of fate that I had to endure until I could find a way back to my own time.

The reality of his engagement was a harsh reminder that any feelings I might have were irrelevant and misplaced. It was clear: I needed to keep my emotions in check, focus on my mission, and not let myself be swayed by a king's charm or his fleeting moments of kindness. I cursed myself again, shaking my head as if to clear away the unwelcome thoughts. The last thing I needed was to let my heart dictate my actions in a world where my only concern should be finding a way home.

As I sat there, my mind wandered back to the previous day. I remembered Chin Hae's visit, his voice firm and respectful as he had relayed Jungkook's message. The king wanted to discuss something about my bracelet. At the time, it seemed like a practical matter—perhaps a final attempt to locate the missing piece of my time machine. Yet, my immediate reaction had been to avoid the summons entirely.

The thought of facing Jungkook again, especially after the emotional turmoil of the previous interactions, was daunting. I didn't want to risk making the situation worse or appearing more vulnerable than I already felt. The idea of walking into his presence, with the lingering sting of my own conflicted feelings, was too overwhelming. So I had avoided it, choosing instead to stay holed up in my room, wallowing in my own confusion and frustration.

I regretted that decision now, knowing that avoidance only made things more complicated. I should have faced him, dealt with the matter directly, and perhaps found some clarity. But my own emotional state had interfered with what was likely a straightforward conversation about the bracelet. Now, as I reflected on it, I realized that my hesitation had only added to my growing list of regrets. It wasn't just about the bracelet—it was about the mess I had made of my own feelings and the situation at large.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, a gnawing sense of discomfort settled in my chest. The thought of being a third wheel in Jungkook and Jasmine's relationship was unsettling. The reality of their impending union felt like an unwelcome intrusion into my own struggle to maintain some semblance of normalcy in this strange world.

I didn't want to be the lingering, unwanted presence between them. It was clear that their engagement was a matter of political necessity and personal commitment, something that was deeply ingrained in their lives. The last thing I wanted was to complicate matters further or to become a source of tension between them. My presence here was supposed to be temporary, and the idea of interfering with their relationship was something I could not reconcile with.

The notion of being in their way, of somehow disrupting what was clearly an important part of their lives, filled me with a sense of dread. I had no place in their world, and I certainly didn't want to be an unwelcome element in their union. I needed to respect the boundaries of their relationship and find a way to manage my own emotions without becoming entangled in their affairs.

The thought of retreating, of staying out of their way, seemed like the only sensible option. It was a matter of maintaining my own dignity and ensuring that I didn't overstep my bounds in a situation that was already fraught with complications. My focus had to remain on my own predicament, on finding a way back to my own time, without further complicating the lives of those around me.

The realization of my situation hit me with startling clarity. Being here in the past, interacting with figures like Jungkook and Jasmine, was not just a matter of personal inconvenience—it had the potential to disrupt the very flow of history. My presence, though seemingly inconsequential, could ripple through time and affect events crucial to the future I left behind.

Every interaction I had, every decision I made, carried weight. Jungkook and Jasmine's engagement was not merely a romantic affair; it was a significant political arrangement that could influence the stability of the kingdom and its future. The thought of becoming entangled in their relationship, of allowing my personal feelings to influence their lives, was daunting. Such interference could potentially alter the course of events and, by extension, impact the future in ways I couldn't fully predict.

The responsibility I bore was immense. I needed to remain a respectful observer, ensuring that my presence here didn't cause unintended changes to the timeline. The stakes were much higher than my own discomfort or emotional struggles; they involved the integrity of a historical narrative that shaped the world I came from. My focus had to be on navigating this era with minimal impact, prioritizing the restoration of my own time without disrupting the delicate balance of the past.

I decided that my best course of action was to keep my distance from Jungkook and avoid complicating the situation further. The emotional turmoil I felt was one thing, but allowing it to affect my interactions with him could have far-reaching consequences. Ignoring him seemed like the most prudent way to avoid any potential disruption to the historical events unfolding around us.

By maintaining this distance, I hoped to prevent any further entanglement in his life or the lives of those around him. I couldn't afford to let my personal feelings get in the way of the bigger picture. The integrity of the historical timeline was too important to risk for the sake of my own emotional struggles.

It was clear that I needed to focus on my primary goal: finding a way back to my own time. Anything that could potentially worsen my situation or disrupt the flow of history had to be avoided. By keeping to myself and steering clear of interactions that might lead to further complications, I hoped to mitigate any unintended impact my presence might have on the past.

E N D   O F  Y / N'S  P O V