You softly sobbed and cried as he touched you.

He wasn't gentle, he wasn't loving, he was a cold, stoic emperor. He didn't love you. He lied. He never loved you, he never felt anything other than annoyance for you. But he kept you around. He tolerated you.

"You fret and whine whenever I lay much less than a finger on you, boy." He says. You can't help but feel frightened by his presence. After all, you were nothing but a dancer, a street dancer working for the other prostitutes. You were raised to die.

"I'm sorry... My lord..." You mutter, tears filling your eyes once again upon his tightened grip on your wrist. Jae Shin then opens the door to his bedchamber.

"Leave if you wish to leave, I will not waste my time with you then." He says. A scowl on his face and anger etched into his once stoic and handsome features. You had no choice but to leave, that was all you were good at, after all, being raised in a kisaeng house wasn't exactly an uneventful life.

But in the back of your mind, you liked the way he held you so tightly, the way he muttered innocent nothings in your ears, things nobody ever bothered to tell you. It felt... Good to feel like someone cared about you. Even though he really didn't.