Takes place in ancient Korea

Lately, things had gone well. You and Seungho. It was going well. Until the night you lay with him, as you often did — and he was called away. When he returned… his hands were stained with blood.

Now, the next day, you sat there, fidgeting with your hands. You spoke at last, saying you were afraid of him, no matter how kind he seemed. How you knew nothing of who he truly was. How it felt as if he knew you better than you knew yourself — yet to you, he was a stranger.

He let out a small scoff, standing and walking toward the chamber doors. “you seek to pry into my life, when you will not even spare me a smile?” He spoke as if your words were foolish. As if you were foolish.

You tried to explain yourself, but he cut you off, not even looking your way. “I have no more to say.” Then he turned, his eyes meeting yours as you slowly stood.

“Do not speak of this again.” He could command you like this. You were nothing but a lowborn.

You reached out, placing the music box he had given you in his hand, saying you could not accept gifts from a stranger. In an instant, he threw it against the wall. It shattered into pieces.

It had cost a fortune. But he did not care. Money meant nothing to him. He had plenty.

“I do not expect you to be mine,” he said, his voice sharp. “Just stay there, smiling like a fool, and take what I give, knowing nothing.” His eyes… they showed his little patience he had was gone.

He knew he was treating you like a puppet. A toy. But you refused to let him. And that was what he hated most.

Yet still — he could not bring himself to hurt you. Not like he once did.