Taehyung's POV

"Master— here's some more requests relating to the Palace." My advisor says, and I instantly bite my lip when he slides a pile of papers onto my desk.

"And these are the reports on the territory patrol." He adds, dumping another pile of papers that he'd literally pulled out of nowhere. "Don't forget the meeting in ten minutes!"

I take a deep breath, seriously considering cutting off people from my House like Jungkook had done the moment he'd become the Head.

He'd claimed he didn't want to deal with "dumb people who pissed him off", and "would've killed his entire House eventually" if he hadn't done that in the beginning.

My head hurts.

I've been confined to this office for the last two days, signing off countless papers and skipping meals just to get all the reports finished.

And ever since I'd fallen asleep on the desk with my head in the wrong position, I had a vicious tugging in my right shoulder that was driving me insane.

The last thing I wanted to do was to listen to a bunch of people argue like a disorganized pack of wolves.

Damn the meeting.

I need a drink.

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"I told you." Jungkook says in monotone as he sips on a cup of lemonade, looking sullen after Lyr had snatched away the alcohol from him. "Just kill them off."

Lyr gives him a glare as I laugh, already knowing that he'd say that. The sharp taste of the liquid burns down my throat as I sigh.

"Tae, you workaholic." Jimin clicks his tongue at me, sucking on the straw of his milk tea. "You actually read those reports?"

"I can't just trash them, can I?" I say, blinking my eyes tiredly as I think of the piles of papers waiting for me back at my Palace.

I take another long drink.

"Where's Lyr?" Jungkook says, his cheeks slightly tinged red as he looks around. "Where'd she go?"

Who the hell gets drunk on lemonade?

"I'm here, you coconut." She laughs, snatching the cup of lemonade from him and replacing it with cold water. "What the heck— did you get drunk on lemonade?"

I should probably stop, too.

I couldn't get too drunk— I still had to work after this, which probably included listening to the loud idiots who was going to be pissed off because I'd skipped the meeting.

Just one more glass, and I'll have to go.

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Leah's POV

"Can you fetch me an extra pot from the storage?" Maria asks me, lifting up the charred pot. "This one won't work."

"Sure." I reply curtly, half-skipping out the kitchen and into the dim-lit hallways. Apparently both the Heads were here— and I could smell the alcohol from here.

Which was weird, since the sitting room was on the opposite side of the Palace.

Then a short gasp escapes my lips as an arm closes around my waist, pulling me back into something warm.

My eyes instantly widen in fear when I recognize the darkened eyes, the green-tipped locks.

Master Taehyung.

"Holy cr—" My voice cuts off, face paling when his arms tighten around my figure. Mind spinning in panic mode, I instinctively try to wriggle out of his hold.

Like that would work.

Shock stills my body when I feel his hand slide over my eyes, and darkness covers my vision. What in the heck was happening? What in the—

Oh.

He was drunk, wasn't he?

But dear Lord— he was going to kill me. He was so going to kill me, and I was going to die in the hand of Head just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I'm never listening to Maria again after this.

"Shh." His breath is hot against my neck as my heart races, eyes still covered. "Stop moving, will you?"

I'm chanting Holy crap for the sixtieth time when he tilts my head back, and I feel something warm press against the side of my neck.

I wriggle like I've never wriggled before.

But to my dismay, his grip tightens even further on me as the soft sensation draws away. When I glance back with my breaths quick, my eyes meet with a pair of narrowed, drunk but very pissed off eyes.

When I actually think he's going to strangle me then and there, his head suddenly falls into the crook of my shoulder.

His hair feels fluffy against my neck.

"I'm tired." I hear him slur, and stand more like a statue than a human being as he continues. "Why can't they just leave me be, huh? Don't they understand I don't want to listen to them arguing?"

I'd never really heard him talk that much.

He talks a lot when he's drunk.

"Uh— sir?" I start, swallowing nervously and struggling to support his weight. "I think you should, probably, you know, go back to the sitting room? Maybe? Yeah?"

"You smell nice."

My lips clamp up, and I swallow for the fifth time in the last minute as a groan leaves his mouth.

"My head hurts."

"Would you like some aspirin?" I say anxiously, forcing an awkward laugh as I try to ignore his arm against my waist. "It's good for headaches."

And the Head who I'd once seen cleaving down a hundred Lights pouts.

Pouts.

"Aspirin tastes bad." He mumbles, and I have to lean in closer to comprehend the jumbled words from his lips.

My fear fades away the more I stare at his slightly curved lips, his deep eyes, and my personality begins to show through as I sigh softly.

"Just come on."

_______________________

I can't believe I'm doing this right now.

"Just eat it." I hiss under my breath, shoving the mug of peppermint tea I'd brewed real quick. He turns his face away.

My fists curl tighter around the mug, and he gives me a side glance.

"You mean drink it, right?" He points out, and I nearly hurl the steaming cup at his innocent expression then and there. "Because you know, you can't eat a drink."

"Drink it now."

His lips press together.

At my urgency to get him to sober up already, I press the mug to his lips and press my other hand to the back of his head.

If I'd known what would've happened next, I never would've even made him a tea.

I guess his fighter instincts kicked up or something, because the next thing I know I get flipped over his shoulder and my back slams into the infirmary bed.

I'm so shocked I can't even scream.

He looks angry as he grips the mug in his hands, setting it down with a slam against the nightstand. There's not a single drop that had spilled out, even though it had been full with boiling tea.

"I told you I didn't want it." He growls, and his face flushes deeper as if just looking at my stunned expression pisses him off even more.

Yeah, I'm dead.

"W-Well, sorry for trying to sober you up!" I snap, guessing that if I was going to die, I was going to die having said what I had to say. "Geez, and that was our last packet of peppermint, too. Now I'll have to get more."

Now I'm wondering if I shouldn't have said that after all because the look he's giving me is kind of terrifying.

"A-And can you get off of me? I got to get dinner ready for Master."

"Master who?"

I can't help but scoff.

"Jeon Jungkook? You know, the one who owns the Palace you're in right now?" I say dubiously, knowing that I probably should be keeping quiet.

"Who?"

Maybe he didn't hear me.

"Jeon Jungkook—"

"I didn't ask for his name." He says, and I look at him dumbfounded.

You just did, idiot.

Thank God I didn't say that out loud.

"And you belong to me now, slave." He continues, and my eyes widen. I'm literally just going to pretend I didn't hear that, because this Head needed to wake the heck up before he burned this place down.

But instead of the fire I'd been totally expecting, he shifts a bit down and presses his lips to mine.

__________________________

It's so funny that he sobers up the moment he kisses me.

Yeah, no.

It's not funny at all.

I can taste sweet mint and alcohol as he stares at me with wide, awake eyes, looking so stunned I'm starting to worry he's going to blame all this on me.

Because if he does that, Head or not, I'm serving him for tonight's dinner.

Sweet mint and alcohol isn't a bad combination, actually. I begin to think, probably growing a bit insane under the weight of his stare.

Judging by the way his eyes widen at his hands pressing down my shoulders and cupping my forehead, I think at least he's gotten the fact that this was totally one-sided.

A curse leaves his lips, soon followed by another.

I'm kind of getting offended when he curses for the third time, but then I faintly recall the second law of the Dark Heads.

And then I curse too, my eyes widening into shocked circles as I see the Mark slowly appear at the place where my collarbones meet.

It's where Lyr carries Master Jungkook's Mark of two crossed swords, shaded a deep silver and haloed in a cloud of blue.

Except the one that's rapidly settling into my skin is one of furled wings, the color of the moonlit night.

"Heck." I hiss as I furiously scramble off the bed, rushing to the sink and rubbing at the Mark with water.

No, no, no.

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Regulation #2.

All Heads must wed the first woman they have Marked after their coronation.