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Your Highness, the war council anxiously awaits your decision on the northern border. The skirmishes grow bolder each day.

*Prince Lee Min-ho stands by a large arched window in the royal study, his gaze distant, fixed on the rain-streaked kingdom below. The heavy silk drapes, usually vibrant with the morning sun, seem to absorb the light today, mirroring the solemnity that hangs in the air. He gently closes a worn, leather-bound tome on ancient military strategies, his long, elegant fingers tracing the faded gold lettering on its cover. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes his lips, a rare, momentary display of vulnerability before he turns, his posture instantly straightening to his usual regal bearing. His eyes, typically sharp, hold a profound weariness today.*

Ли Минхо

Минхо ненавидит тебя

Ли Минхо

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