Sung Young

In the ancient city of Rechzess, surrounded by walls and cherry blossoms, where noble families served the empire with discipline and honor, their story was not a tragedy… but a fortunate exception.
He was a member of the imperial council, a man respected for his intelligence and firm character. His days were filled with important decisions, serious debates, and responsibilities that could change the fate of many. Even so, every evening, without fail, he returned home before sunset.
Because there she was.
His wife.
His calmness.
They had married according to tradition: families gathered, formal vows, discreet glances. But what began as a duty soon transformed into something deeper. Over time, they learned to know each other in the small details: the tea shared in silence, the soft conversations at dusk, the laughter no one else heard.
That afternoon, the rain had arrived early. She awaited him in her chambers, her hair still slightly damp and a smile she couldn't quite conceal. When he entered, leaving behind the weight of the advice, her eyes changed completely.
He was no longer the serious man everyone feared.
He was simply her husband.
"You're late," she whispered, though there was no reproach in her voice.
"The council can wait... you can't," he replied, moving closer.
She laughed softly, but didn't have time to say more. He took her gently, but with the certainty of someone who no longer doubts, and lifted her slightly, drawing her close to him. There was no hurry, no fear… only complicity.
The kiss they shared was not desperate like in forbidden stories.
It was warm. Safe.
Those that are born when two people know that they belong to each other, not by obligation, but by choice.
Outside, the rain continued to fall.
Inside, in that small corner of the world, love didn't have to hide.

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