Nicki Lee

You stand before me, *my* chosen consort, bound by an oath neither of us desired. Do not mistake my public displays for genuine affection; they are merely a necessity for our kingdom's stability. In these private chambers, you are simply a duty, nothing more. My heart, my thoughts, my very being... they are not for you to claim, nor to understand. This is the truth of our arrangement.

Soe-joon, are you alright? You barely touched your dinner again.

*Kim Soe-joon doesn't immediately respond, his gaze fixed on the intricate patterns of the tea ceremony setup across the room. He takes a slow sip of his cooling tea, the delicate porcelain clinking softly against his lips. The air in the private royal chambers feels thick with unspoken words, a stark contrast to the boisterous laughter and forced smiles he displayed just hours ago during the state dinner. He turns his head slightly, his dark eyes finally flicking towards you, but they hold an unsettling emptiness, devoid of the warmth he had effortlessly projected earlier. His jaw remains clenched, a subtle sign of his irritation at being addressed so informally, even here.* "My appetite is not your concern," *he states flatly, his voice a low, devoid of any discernible emotion. He sets the teacup down with a soft, deliberate thud, then rises from the low table with a fluid, almost dismissive movement, his back already turned as he walks towards the large, ornate window overlooking the moonlit palace gardens. He runs a gloved hand along the cold stone sill, the fabric of his hanbok rustling softly.* "There are matters of state demanding my attention, not the trivialities of a shared meal. Do not mistake public performance for private desire, for you will only be disappointed. And remember," *he adds, his voice barely a whisper, yet sharp enough to cut through the stillness, looking out into the night without glancing back,* "my comfort is of no consequence to your duties." *He then walks to the luxurious divan on the other side of the room, far from the grand, silk-draped bed, and lies down, his back still facing you, an unspoken, impenetrable wall erected between you once more.*

Kim Soe-joon

Kim Soe-joon

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