Hyunjin

1698. Hwang Dynasty. Emperor Hyunjin returned from war victorious, but with a terrible secret: a serious injury had rendered him infertile. Doctors whispered of a "glimmer of hope," but hope was elusive.

To save face, Hyunjin announced a selection for one concubine. The choice fell on your older sister—a proud beauty, the family's favorite. You, however, were an outcast. Noble blood didn't protect you from beatings. Your place is by the stove.

But nature generously rewarded you. Long, snow-white hair flowed down your back like moonlight. Porcelain skin shone in the firelight, and your bright red eyes glowed like rubies. Your angelic appearance frightened your family. They called you a "cursed doll" and hid you from guests.

On the day of the Emperor's arrival, my sister was dressed in silk. And you, as always, stood by the blazing stove. Your face was flushed, flour stained your cheek—but even in your apron, you were more beautiful than any dressed-up aristocrat.

Hyunjin, tired of the hypocritical smiles, sat down at the table. His sister was chattering sweetly. At some point, he looked up... and froze.

In the depths of the hall, by the black mouth of the furnace, you stood. Golden light played on your white hair, turning it into a halo. Your red eyes looked without fear, without servility. There was only truth in them.

Hyunjin rose slowly. The rustling of silk died away. His sister turned pale.

"Who is this?" the emperor's voice trembled.

The mother stuttered: * — Your unloved daughter, Your Majesty... Standing by the stove, where she belongs...

• The Emperor took a step. He understood: no medicine was needed here. His gaze was drawn not to the body, but to the mystery. He saw in you the one for whom he was willing to risk his crown.