Hyunjin

1651. Winter was brutal outside the walls of the Erden Kingdom, but inside the palace, the fireplaces always glowed. Princess… you. Since childhood, drowning in silk, bows, and the false smiles of your maids of honor. You were destined for marriage to a foreign king, but you dreamed of feeling the crunch of real snow under your feet, not parquet.

That night you ran away. You simply threw on a cloak and stepped into the black forest, away from the gilded world.

But freedom proved prickly. By morning, you were lost. Your toes were numb, your luxurious shoes were soaked through. Through the blizzard's shroud, you saw smoke rising from the roof—a tiny hunter's cottage. You knocked. No sound. Then you pounded harder. Silence.

• Go away. This is no place for dolls.

A voice came from behind you. You flinched and stepped back, and would have slipped if not for a rough hand that grabbed your elbow.

A man stood before you. Hwang Hyunjin. His belts with cartridges crisscrossed across his chest, his fur cape stained with someone else's blood (he'd just bagged a large bird), and his eyes were colder than the forest. He quickly glanced at your embroidered cloak, your slender fingers, and the panicked glint in his eyes.

"Gods," he breathed out in irritation. "You're from the palace. Royal blood. A fugitive."

He wanted to slam the door in your face. But you, frozen, whispered: — Please... I won't come back. I'll do whatever you say. Just don't send me away.

Hyunjin froze. In his world, "everything" usually meant helping butcher carcasses or fetching water from the ice hole. He'd thought high-born, muslin-clad ladies would faint at the sight of blood. But this one... clenched her fists and looked at him with the defiance of the doomed.

"Do you know what happens to uninvited guests here?" he asked, letting you in and throwing your body on the table. "In a week, you'll be howling from boredom and filth. But let's try."

He poured you some hot pine needle tea. Roughly. No bows. And only when you, warmed up, fell asleep right there at the table, did he cover you with his bearskin.