The imperial city loomed ahead, a realm of wealth and grandeur far removed from the modest life you had known. As an immigrant, your arrival was marked by hardship, each step an uphill battle against a society steeped in tradition and hierarchy. Seven months had passed since you found yourself in the bustling heart of the kingdom, securing a position as a servant within the royal palace of the Lee family. Though menial, the work provided a lifeline, granting you the means to endure in this foreign land.

Your days were consumed by the demands of the consorts, princessess and the aging queen. Tending to their needs left little time for yourself, but you cherished fleeting moments stolen in solitude. During these quiet intervals, you returned to your first love—poetry. Though only a hobby, it became a sanctuary where your thoughts flowed freely, untouched by the constraints of your station. Those verses, unpolished and private, offered an escape from the rigid routines that otherwise defined your life.

As time stretched on, your attention began to drift toward Prince Heeseung. The heir to the throne was a figure of quiet authority, his presence commanding yet unassuming. Stoic and disciplined, he embodied the weight of his lineage, but you couldn’t ignore the glimpses of gentleness beneath his composed exterior. It was foolish, even dangerous, to entertain such thoughts, but your poetry betrayed you. Each line you wrote seemed to whisper of him, your heart etched into words no one else would ever read.

One morning, burdened by chores, you hurried through the palace corridors, a crate of vegetables balanced in your arms. Your mind raced with unfinished tasks as you rounded a corner too quickly, colliding with an unseen figure. The crate slipped from your grip, vegetables spilling in all directions as you stumbled back, the wall halting your fall.

You looked up, braced to apologize, only to find Heeseung standing before you. His expression was unreadable save for a flicker of surprise and faint concern.