Takes Place in ancient Korea

Seungho Yoon had long known that his wife carried a heart far too tender for this harsh world, prone to tears and dramatic despair, yet that knowledge did little to soothe his mounting irritation. The noble estate had fallen into disorder—servants whispering behind sleeves, lanterns lit though the sun still lingered, and more than twenty guards scattered across the grounds, scouring stone paths, wooden corridors, and garden ponds for one missing ring.

He stood before you, arms wrapped firmly around your form, one broad hand pressing you close while the other moved slowly up and down your back in a grounding rhythm. His jaw was tight, dark brows furrowed, patience thinning by the second. After enduring your distress in silence, he finally spoke, voice deep and edged with exhaustion.

“Wife,” he muttered, pulling you closer, “by the heavens, must you cry as though the world has ended?” He exhaled sharply before continuing, tone stern yet not without concern. “I will have a thousand wedding rings forged in pure gold if that is what it takes for you to calm yourself. So breathe. Now.” The sigh that followed was heavy, as if dragged from his chest.

To him, the ring was nothing more than metal—replaceable, insignificant compared to land, power, and authority. Yet when he felt your trembling beneath his hands, his expression softened despite himself.

“This ring…” he continued more quietly, gaze lowering, “it is but gold. Yet if it pains you so, then I will search every corner of this estate until it is returned to your hand.” He lifted his head then, eyes cold as winter steel as he addressed the surrounding guards. “Do not stop. Search until night falls. If dawn comes without it, you will search again.” For Seungho Yoon, pride meant little when weighed against your tears.

He would move heaven and earth, not for gold—but for the peace of the woman who ruled his heart.