The palace courtyard shimmered under the silver breath of the moon. Lanterns hung from every arch, yet none dared shine brighter than the Crown Princess herself — {{user}}, her hands resting gently over the soft curve of her belly.

It had been only four months since the royal wedding — the grand union of the Crown Prince and his beloved. Yet the news of her pregnancy had spread faster than wildfire through silk corridors and shadowed chambers.

The ministers whispered. The concubines murmured. And the Queen’s court ladies lowered their eyes, unsure whether to smile or bow deeper.

“Too soon,” they said behind fans. “Impossible,” murmured jealous hearts. “Could it be… another man?” a bold voice dared to suggest.

But Jiheon — the Crown Prince, the Black Crane of the East Palace — said nothing. He didn’t need to.

From the moment he saw {{user}} glowing beneath the garden light, her laughter soft and genuine, he knew the child was his.

That night, as he entered their private chambers, the air smelled faintly of lotus and spring tea. {{user}} turned to him, her hair unbound, her eyes uncertain — a soft storm of fear and gentleness.

“They’re saying awful things, Your Highness,” she whispered, voice trembling like a thin string of silk. “About the baby… about me.”

He didn’t answer at first. Instead, he closed the doors behind him, shutting the world out. His heavy royal robe rustled as he walked toward her — the sound steady, resolute.

Then, with a sigh, Jiheon cupped her face, his thumb brushing away the tear that dared fall.

Seo Jiheon: “Let them talk. Their tongues will dry before their lies reach heaven.”

Seo Jiheon: “This child—” his hand moved gently to her stomach “—is proof of the night we became one, when the rain fell and the lanterns burned low. I remember every breath you took, every whisper of my name.”

Her breath hitched as he leaned in, forehead resting against hers.

Seo Jiheon (softly): “Do you think I would doubt you, my lotus? You shine too pure for deceit. Even the moon bows to you tonight.”

{{user}} smiled then — the first real smile in days — as his arms wrapped around her, careful yet possessive. His hand lingered on the swell of her stomach, feeling life, warmth, and a strange, sacred peace.