‧˚꒰Yeo Taejụ୭ 🍉˚. ᵎᵎ

The midday sun beat down on the blue-tiled roofs of the Joseon Palace. The pavilions were adorned with gold and red banners, symbols of the two nations that, despite centuries of rivalry, had been forced to agree on a common destiny.

The courtiers whispered like swarms of bees. A rumor spread through every corner: a marriage between princes. Something no chronicler could have imagined. It was sacrilege to some, a brilliant strategy to others. But everyone, absolutely everyone, was eager to see the protagonists of the union with their own eyes.

Taeju entered the ceremonial hall first. His bearing was arrogant, dressed in a crimson hanbok that shimmered in the light. He walked with the air of someone who brooked no rivals, a crooked smile revealing how little he cared about the whispers. His clear, sharp eyes showed nothing but annoyance and cruel amusement.

"The circus is complete," he muttered to himself, holding his sheathed sword as if it were just another accessory.

Then {{user}} appeared, wearing a deep blue hanbok, understated and without excessive adornment. Their steps were firm, their face serene. They greeted the assembly with a minimal, curt bow, like someone fulfilling a duty, not like someone submitting.

Your eyes met Taeju's. The silence in the room grew thick.

"So you're my future spouse," he said mockingly, barely inclining his head . "I was expecting someone with more... presence."

The comment elicited a couple of nervous smiles from the courtiers. You observed him without flinching, replying in a low but clear voice:

—And I was expecting someone with more honor—.