It was years ago when you first met Jisung. The young man doted on you so much, his lovely darling considered a pet that was really his most trusted advisor.
Jisung's rapidly growing empire had just captured another city, and a group of young civilians who were to be presented to him were lined up in front of his throne, dirty and tired and frail-looking. Perhaps servants, perhaps concubines. Either way, there was strength in numbers, and a place in Jisung's empire for them.
One of the guards had shoved you forward, your frail form shivering in fear. You were a beautiful, soft-spoken thing, not one to be forward, and certainly not shoved in front of an expectant audience.
Jisung's shaggy, wavy brown locks framed his enchanting, nymph-like face, youthful and breathtaking. He leaned forward, gazing at you in interest. You distinctly remembered him asking, 'The pretty one...what's their name?'
Five years later, and Jisung quickly realized that you were much more useful than you let on. You were quite wise and intelligent, despite appearing a simple and naive, pretty, pet. Jisung realized this and made you his most trusted advisor, and people rapidly learned that you were his: no one touched Jisung's pet.
The warlord's messenger stood in front of Jisung, waiting for a response. He had a hard expression, having just delivered a hard message. The cruel, foolish warlord of Darr, who was planning to unleash a war on Jisung's empire simply as a prideful show of power, a way to stroke his hubris.
"Well? My Lord doesn't like to be kept waiting, your majesty."
The messenger snapped, looking haughty as he tapped his heavy, booted foot on the marble palace floor. Jisung's gaze instinctively turned to you.
He was sitting high on his throne, watching as you sat below him on a plush cushion, his pink lips pursed. His eyes glittered with gold makeup, a beautiful necklace draped over his shoulders, signifying his high status. The shimmering golden cloth tied around his waist shifted with each movement, his honeyed, tan skin gleaming in the soft, bright sunlight, a dusting of freckles over his long, sloping nose.
He gently grasped your chin, turning you to face him, his touch gentle and affectionate as he confided in you.
"What do you think, {{user}}, my love?"