The carriage rocked unsteadily as it traveled through the dense forest leading toward the Duke's mansion. Taehyung clutched his small bag tightly against his chest, his heart racing with uncertainty. The driver beside him was a middle-aged man who had not spoken a word since they departed from the town, but now, as they approached the mansion, he broke the silence.

"You sure you want to work there, lad?" the driver muttered, his voice filled with hesitation.

Taehyung glanced at him, confused. "Why do you say that?"

The driver scoffed. "The Duke... Jung-kook... he's not like normal men. People call him a beast, you know. Hideous, they say. No one stays there for long." He gave Taehyung a pitiful look. "A pretty boy like you... you'll regret it."

Taehyung's grip on his bag tightened. Pretty. Yes, he was often called pretty, almost too pretty for a man. His soft features, round cheeks, wide hips, and delicate figure often drew unwanted attention. He started crossdressing when he was younger, feeling more comfortable in flowy dresses and corsets rather than harsh, masculine attire.

But his looks had also made him vulnerable, especially in places filled with men who only saw him as a conquest. He was tired of it all. That's why when the opportunity came to work in the Duke's mansion, he accepted it without hesitation. A job was a job.

"I'll be fine," Taehyung answered quietly, staring out the window as the mansion came into view.

And there it was—an enormous, gloomy estate surrounded by overgrown gardens and high stone walls. The mansion looked lifeless, as though happiness had never touched it.

The driver shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Poor thing. Good luck."

As the carriage pulled to a stop, Taehyung climbed out, his legs slightly shaky. He adjusted his long, flowy dress—soft pink with delicate lace—and approached the heavy double doors. With a deep breath, he knocked.

Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing an older woman with sharp features and a disapproving scowl. "You must be the new servant," she said curtly, giving Taehyung a once-over. "Follow me."

Taehyung nodded, gripping his bag as he was led inside. The interior was just as cold and lifeless as the outside—dark wooden walls, dusty chandeliers, and an eerie silence that settled over the mansion like a curse.

"The Duke is a private man. You will serve him directly—clean his chambers, bring his meals, and tend to his clothes. Do not speak to him unless spoken to," the woman continued. "And whatever you do... never stare at him."

Taehyung swallowed. "Why not?"

The woman halted, turning to face him. "Because he despises it," she said sharply. "The Duke does not take kindly to being reminded of his... appearance."

Taehyung felt his heart squeeze. What kind of man was this Duke?

The woman led him to the grand dining hall, where a single seat sat at the head of a long, empty table. "The Duke will be here soon for dinner. You will serve him." With that, the woman left Taehyung alone.

Taehyung's hands trembled as he arranged the plates. Minutes passed in agonizing silence until he finally heard it—the heavy, dragging sound of footsteps approaching. His heart raced. He turned toward the door just as it opened.

And there he was.

The Duke.

Taehyung's breath caught in his throat.

The man was massive—tall, broad, and towering. His thick body was wrapped in heavy, dark clothing, and his face... scarred, rough, and hardened. He was far from handsome—his nose was crooked, his lips downturned, and his hair messy. His belly was round, his posture hunched as though he wished to shrink into himself.

But his eyes... they were the saddest eyes Taehyung had ever seen.

The Duke froze when he saw Taehyung standing by the table, his delicate figure draped in soft pink fabric, his big round eyes gazing at him.

"You..." Jungkook's voice was deep, rough. "You're my new servant?"

Taehyung snapped out of his daze and quickly bowed. "Yes, Your Grace. My name is Taehyung."

Jungkook's jaw clenched. His gaze lingered on Taehyung'spretty face for a moment too long before he turned away, ashamed. "You may serve my meal. Then leave."

Taehyung hesitated. "Yes, Your Grace."

His hands trembled as he poured wine into the Duke's glass. He could feel the man's gaze burning into him, but whenever Taehyung tried to glance his way, Jungkook would avert his eyes. His large hands remained clenched on the table, his body tense as if he expected Taehyung to recoil in disgust any second.

But Taehyung did not.

Instead, he quietly placed the meal before Jungkook, his voice soft. "I hope it's to your liking, Your Grace."

Jungkook did not answer. He simply stared at his plate. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. "You're very beautiful."

Taehyung froze, his cheeks warming. "Thank you, Your Grace."

"It wasn't a compliment," Jungkook muttered bitterly. "It's a curse."

Taehyung's eyes widened. "I... I don't understand."

Jungkook let out a harsh, humorless laugh. "A man like me... does not deserve to have someone as beautiful as you serving him. It's cruel, don't you think?" His voice cracked. "I must disgust you."

Taehyung's heart ached at the self-loathing in his voice. He quickly shook his head. "You don't disgust me, Your Grace."

Jungkook's head snapped up, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "You're lying."

"I'm not," Taehyung insisted, his voice firm. "You're my employer, and I will serve you just like I would anyone else."

Jungkook's fists clenched tighter, his jaw ticking. "Leave."

Taehyung hesitated. "But—"

"Leave!" Jungkook's voice cracked like thunder, making Taehyung flinch. Without another word, Taehyung grabbed his tray and scurried out of the dining hall, his heart pounding.

As the door closed behind him, Taehyung paused, pressing a hand to his chest. His heart was still racing—

but not from fear.

From something else entirely.

And inside the dining hall, Duke Jungkook remained seated, his hands trembling as he stared at the spot where Taehyung had stood. His beautiful, pretty servant.

And for the first time in a long time... Jungkook hated himself a little more.