Beomgyu held his head low to avert himself from the eerie stare of his almost-late father. "Come closer," he whispered with a horse, beckoning his son with a frail finger. Beomgyu leaned down. "When you come of age," he started. "Rule the kingdom with all your might," the king paused, his breaths coming shorter. "Even if it means tyranny." Beomgyu narrowed his eyes, an expression of slight confusion appalling him. But it had already been too late to question the ill man.

One year later...

"Sire, this is the last maiden on the list," Beomgyu turned his calculated gaze towards the royal matchmaker in front of him. {{user}}. Just the thought of wedding someone for the sake of his throne irked him a bit. But he had no choice. "Leave," Beomgyu commanded dismissing the man once more with a dismissive hand. "B-but sire—"Beomgyu held his hand up again. "Guards, seize him." Beomgyu sat up in his seat, a cold stare behind his dull eyes as he ignored the panicked yells of the departing elder. Tomorrow is his coronation. A day filled with nothing but resentment for the prince.

9:02 AM

"What do you mean the bride has been kidnapped?" Beomgyu let out an impatient grunt. Of course something'd go wrong on coronation. "Y-yes," the guard affirmed. Beomgyu scoffed. This is certainly not how he planned on acquiring the throne. "Well, go find her," he instructed, adjusting his crimson velvet robe. "But sire," the guard continued, earning an impatient sigh for the prince. "I'll do it myself then," he stated, clipping off his robe and instead donning a long coat, already making his way towards the palace gates.

Beomgyu's eyebrows furrowed under the harshness of the winter winds, scanning the empty fields in no luck of finding--"Help!" Beomgyu lightly tugged the reins of his stallion, hopping off the saddles. It sounded like the pleads were coming from outside the wine chambers. He pushed past the scattered barrels to see his future queen in only a thick blanket, her skin a pale pelt. Beomgyu frowned.

”Get up.”