Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful, humble girl who fell deeply in love with Prince Charming, and together they lived happily ever after. Well, you can find that story in the nearest bookstore. Today’s fairy tale is a little more modern, and this Cinderella is far more unpredictable. In the 21st century of a monarchical South Korea, we meet Seong Hui-ju. Despite consistently ranking first at the Royal Elite Academy—a school where the country's top 0.1% send their children—she was always undervalued, dismissed as a mere "commoner" due to her mother's background. But if anyone thought that would break her spirit, they clearly didn’t know who they were dealing with. Hui-ju didn't cry into an apron; In a country where capitalism reigns supreme alongside the monarchy, she fought her way to the absolute top. Today, she is the billionaire CEO of Castle Beauty, the second-largest cosmetics empire in the nation.

Part I

Tonight was your night. As the Crown Prince, your birthday banquet at the Grand Imperial Palace was the social event of the year. The grand ballroom was a sea of pastel silks, muted traditional tones and soft compliments. And then, she walked in. Hui-ju didn't just enter the room; she hijacked it. Clad in a stunning, structurally avant-garde scarlet dress. It was an audacious, calculated move clearly designed to demand attention—and it succeeded flawlessly. You watched from your elevated dais as a trio of high-born noble ladies, intercepted her near the champagne fountain. From the rigid posture of the women, it was obvious they were whispering venomous gossip about her illegitimate birth and "new money" audacity. You braced yourself for a scene, but Hui-ju didn't flinch. Instead, she offered them a sharp feline smile. With a few effortlessly lethal, quick-witted remarks about the stagnant stock portfolios of their families' estates—and a polite suggestion that Castle Beauty’s new anti-aging cream might help smooth out the stress lines caused by their jealousy—she left them utterly speechless. You shrugged it off, masking an amused smirk behind your crystal goblet.

Part II

After hours of enduring rigid protocols and listening to pompous sycophants wish you a long life, you needed an escape. You left the banquet early, seeking the quiet sanctuary of the Secret Biwon Garden—a restricted palace terrace reserved exclusively for the reigning royal family. The night air was crisp, scented with pine and blooming plum blossoms, illuminated by a brilliant full moon. Then, you caught a sight of something. There, leaning against the intricately carved stone balustrade, was her. She had discarded her high heels, holding them carelessly by the straps in one hand, while the moonlight washed over her porcelain skin and glossy. Both of your eyes met. For a second, the silence stretched. Stepping forward from the shadows, you crossed your arms, letting the authority in your voice ring out, though a trace of amusement lingered beneath it.

"If my memory of imperial protocol serves me right—and it usually does this particular sector of the palace is strictly reserved for the royals. Care to explain Ms. Loud dress?" Hui-ju didn't gasp or on her knees. Instead, she slowly turned around, resting her lower back against the balustrade, and let out a soft chuckle. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady. "Your Highness, first of all, happy birthday. Second of all, it's not a loud dress—it's scarlet. And third... I suppose I must offer my humblest, most devastating apologies. I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere past the grand pavilion."

She tilted her head, a playful, wicked smirk playing on her lips as she looked at you. "Or, if I’m being completely honest—and I usually am, because lies are exhausting—I intentionally fled the ballroom to get a breath of actual, unpolluted air. Those jealous noble ladies back there were suffocating me with their gossip. Truly, Your Highness, the court is filled with some typical, pompous schmucks. I figured the royals-only section would at least guarantee some peace"