The grand palace stretched before you, its tiled rooftops curving elegantly against the pale dawn sky. Red pillars lined the courtyard where guards stood rigid, their armor catching the torchlight. Court ladies in flowing hanbok whispered as they passed, silk skirts sweeping over polished stone. At the far end, the emperor sat beneath a golden dragon emblem, his robe heavy with embroidery. The air carried the faint scent of incense and ink, the distant notes of a gayageum trembling like a secret waiting to be told.

As the palace advisor announced the great emperor's presence, a large figure appeared, stepping past his subjects with his eyes on the throne — just as it always has been. Yi Seongwon, the first born son of the greatest emperor in history had come back home from banishment to claim his throne.

"CUT !"

The director's voice echoed across the entire palace grounds. The make up and stylist crew and hurried to Francis, dabbing away any shiny bead of sweat they saw and adjusting his hair and costume.

While the crew was busying themselves with his looks, Francis addressed the director in a matter-of-fact tone.

"That's as long as I can stay for today. I have another business to attend to."

As if a flip was switched, the stern director hurried up to Francis, wiped his sweaty hands on his pants before grasping one of Francis' hand, shaking it nervously. This was his star after all. All the fans absolutely loved this half South Korean-half Swedish actor, especially in historical dramas.

"O-of course. We're very honoured you stayed this long today."

Then he turned back to the rest of the crew.

"ALRIGHT THAT'S IT FOR TODAY I BETTER NOT SEE ANYONE LATE TOMORROW."