Yeonho shoved her away with sudden force, staggering a step back as though he’d been burned. “Your Highness!” he barked, a hint of tremble in his voice despite his effort to steady it. His heart thundered. He’d thought her misunderstood—impulsive, perhaps, but noble in intent. He hadn’t expected this.Was it the wine that emboldened her… was she always this… reckless?Vaani wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her smirk unshaken. “You refuse to be loyal to me,” she said coldly, “even though you’ve been assigned to serve me. All because of your so-called allegiance to someone who clearly wants to see me hurt?”“I only serve the crown,” Yeonho snapped, fists tightening at his sides. He kept his gaze rooted to the ground, resisting the urge to look at her—at the flush in her cheeks, the glint in her eyes. “And you’re mistaken–”“Mistaken indeed!” Vaani said, cutting him short. “ I did mistake you for a man of character,” she sneered. “Turns out, you’re no better than the others. A g
With the sleeping princess nestled in his arms, Yeonho arrived at the threshold of her bedchamber. He hadn't even halted his steps when a sharp voice pierced the silence."Oh my!" gasped Court Lady Kim Yena, rushing toward him. Her eyes flicked between Yeonho and the unconscious princess before landing on him with a bewildered expression. “What happened to Her Highness?”“She’s unwell,” Yeonho replied quietly, glancing at the young woman in his arms. She who had kicked and protested being lifted off the palace yard now lay unmoving, her head resting against his chest, fast asleep. Earlier, he had ignored her resistance, pretending not to care. But now, watching her sleep so peacefully in his arms, something in his chest shifted.“But—but…” Lady Yena’s voice faltered. Something in her posture made Yeonho narrow his eyes. Her jaw was clenched, fists tight at her sides. He could tell she was uncomfortable about something. But what?“It’s time for the royal dinner,” she said, the protest
The evening air was crisp, carrying the bite of late autumn as Yeonho stepped out of Zane’s chambers after Dr. Tae. The sky had darkened early, and the front yard of the staff quarters was wrapped in a soft, hazy gloom.Neither man noticed the quiet figure lingering in the shadows behind the pillars. Zane, their so-called "sick guest," had followed them out, moving with careful, measured steps. His body ached, but his curiosity burned brighter than any discomfort. He pressed himself against the cool stone, ears sharp, straining to catch every hushed word exchanged between the two."This can't be!" Yeonho hissed, his voice low but clear enough for Zane to catch.Dr. Tae scoffed, folding his arms. "Do you think I’m lying?"Yeonho frowned, lips pursed in disbelief. "Why would someone do that?""Perhaps out of curiosity," Dr. Tae replied with an amused shrug.Zane’s brows furrowed. Curiousity about what? His stomach twisted with unease. The way the physician asked Yeonho to talk in privat
Sex was always Zane’s favorite way to shut the world out. To burn the tension off his skin.And lately, it happened to cling to him like smoke.He watched as Yena stood by the edge of the bed, her fingers moving slowly—too slowly—as she undid the delicate folds of her hanbok. Layer after layer fell away like petals, brushing her skin as they slipped to the floor.His jaw tightened with impatience. Damn these traditional clothes. Why did they have to be so elaborate? He had no patience for slow, delicate things tonight. He needed release. Now.With a low growl, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her toward him. She stumbled, light as a paper lantern, but he caught her easily.The next second, her back hit the bed, his hands braced on either side of her, shadowing her body with his.A grin played at his lips, sharp and hungry.But before he could lean in—she twisted. Like water. Slipping just out of his reach.He blinked, surprised, but not for long.His hand shot out, catching her waist w
The Morning AfterVaani arrived late to the royal breakfast, though every detail of her appearance had been curated with precision. Her hanbok draped elegantly, her jewelry glinted softly in the morning light, and her braid—intricately woven—spoke of careful, deliberate hands. Yet all the grace and polish in the world could not disguise the truth etched across her face. Her eyes, rimmed in weariness and subtly swollen from a sleepless night, gave her away the moment she stepped into the hall. And she felt it—the silent, unmistakable weight of their gazes. Her brothers'. The King's. And worst of all... his.Prince Do-won's.Her betrothed—ever distant, ever indifferent—rarely spared her more than a passing glance. But today, his eyes clung to her like smoke, curling around her nerves, drawing forth every buried insecurity with surgical precision.Vaani swallowed hard, the knot in her throat thick and unyielding. Each step she took toward her seat felt both too heavy and too light, like
Sneaking out of the royal palace in the middle of night was a terrible idea.And now—soaked to the skin, freezing with every breath—she was paying for her defiance. So was Yeonho. He had warned her. He was right.Not that she would admit it, of course.Instead, she had snapped at him, berated him for forgetting an umbrella, as if it had been his role to preempt her recklessness. As if she weren’t the one who had dragged him into the storm.As they reached the palace and eventually her chamber, the guards who should have been stationed at her doors were absent. Yeonho stiffened beside her, his body vibrating with anger, though whether it was from the cold or the dereliction of duty, she couldn't tell. His wet hair clung to his neck, glistening and dripping, and his uniform was plastered to his skin, outlining every line of him with humiliating precision.“Why aren’t there any guards at the entrance?” he wondered out loud, his voice sharp.“I presume they’ve been informed of my absence,