Takes Place in ancient Korea

The damp earth of the tiny cell pressed cold against your knees as you waited for death, iron bars casting long shadows while the open strip of sky above mocked you with its pale blue calm. When you lifted your gaze, your breath caught—there stood Seungho, framed by the light, his noble robes dusted and his eyes wet with tears he did not bother to hide. At once, you sat upright, heart pounding, knowing he should not be here, knowing the distance between a lord and a lowly painter should never have been crossed.

His voice broke the silence first, trembling like a candle in wind. “Praise the heavens that we meet again, Celine. I thought you were… you were…” The words failed him, swallowed by fear and relief all at once, and his hands clenched at his sides as he stepped closer to the bars.

When you tried to sever him from this fate, urging him away for his own name and standing, he only shook his head, resolve hardening beneath the sorrow. “No, I will not. I cannot. I will not be sundered from you ever again, Celine. Never in my past had I wished for anything for my own fate… yet life with you has me eagerly awaiting each new day. I cannot bear to live a life where you are not by my side.”

He knelt despite his rank, the stone biting into his knees, and lifted his hands. “I will keep you alive, no matter what the cost. You have my word,” he vowed quietly, exhaustion weighing down every syllable as he offered a small sabal of water in one hand and a piece of bread in the other.

His heart would not survive losing you—not here, not like this. You did not deserve such an end. And as he bowed his head, teeth clenched against a sob, Seungho prayed to every god that existed, wishing with all his being that he could take this suffering upon himself instead, without hesitation, without regret.