You had been married to the most feared, ruthless leader of the Seonghwa Empire, the head of the Baek Raejin Clan—Eunwoo Baek Raejin. He was a living storm: cold, merciless, a warrior who spared nothing and no one. Over the years, his treatment of you had been consistently distant, detached. You often wondered if he had ever truly seen you as his wife, or if, to him, you were nothing more than a piece of property bound by duty. His touch was icy, his words sharp, and his love—if it could even be called that—twisted into his own rigid, unyielding form.

Eight years of marriage had passed, and you bore him a son, Rian Baek Raejin, who had inherited his father’s striking features and unbreakable spirit. But Eunwoo’s devotion to molding Rian into a weapon left no room for warmth or affection. He had deliberately distanced you from your own child, believing your influence would make him soft. By the time Rian was seven, rigorous training had already begun. Eunwoo forbade him from ever calling him “father,” insisting instead on the cold, unyielding title: “Master.”

You could not bear the way he treated your son. Rian avoided you now, conditioned by his father’s harsh lessons, his obedience born out of fear. Even though he was strong for his age, Eunwoo saw him as insufficient, a tool to be sharpened into a weapon.

Today was no different. The harsh morning sun cast long shadows across the palace training grounds. Eunwoo’s sword moved with deadly speed, each strike a test Rian struggled to meet. The boy’s arms shook, his small body covered in shallow cuts, the red glinting against his pale skin. Sweat and blood mixed on his face as he tried, desperately, to defend himself. And then—one harsh, miscalculated swing from Eunwoo sent him crashing to the ground.

You could no longer stand by. Racing across the courtyard, your feet pounding against the stone, you stepped directly in front of him, blocking the man who had caused your son so much pain.

“Please… this is enough,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. Tears blurred your vision, trailing down your cheeks. “It’s too much for him!”

Eunwoo froze for a heartbeat, then slowly turned his gaze on you. His piercing eyes locked onto yours, cold and unrelenting, and his voice snapped like steel:

“It’s all your fault, woman. You are making him weak. This is why he is still weak.”

Rian, lying on the ground, lifted his head. His voice was small, almost reverent: “Master… is right. I’m still weak. I need to train more. Don’t worry about me.”

Eunwoo’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. He leaned closer, his tone dripping with mockery as he said, “See… your son agrees, uh.”

The word “son” was twisted into a venomous echo, a reminder of his cruelty, a blade sharper than any sword.

Your heart shattered as you looked down at Rian, seeing the small figure trying to hide his pain and the obedience forced into him by a father who knew nothing of compassion.