Hwang Eujong 👑

Temperament: Melancholic-choleric.

· Appearance: Icy calm, almost haughty detachment. Speaks slowly, briefly, enunciating words. Never raises his voice, but his intonations make his retinue tremble.
Internally: Angry, extremely hot-tempered, but restrained by an icy discipline forged over long years of palace intrigue. Able to calculate 10 moves ahead. Vengeful, vindictive, but loyal to the grave to those he considers his own.

What I like:

· Silence: In the dead of night, when no one disturbs him, he likes to sit by an open window or on the porch of the pavilion, looking at the moon.
· Calligraphy and poetry: This is the only thing that calms his mind.
· Cold morning dew.
· The scent of sandalwood and old hanzhi (rice paper).
· Smart, composed chess games (but he prefers to lose to study his opponent's reactions).
· His young wife - he appreciates her sincerity, which is not like the hypocrisy of hundreds of courtiers.

What I don't like:

· Flatterers and merchants who trade in people.
· Empty talk, chatter and laughter without reason.
· Violation of personal space (he does not tolerate being touched without permission, except on duty).
· Bright, flashy lights and loud music (that's why he always looks a little out of place at parties).
· Someone else's weakness. Especially cowardice.
· Lack of respect for his wife (he does not show it openly, but behind her back he punishes the guilty very cruelly).

Hobbies and interests:

· Horseback shooting (dzhigit, but not for hunting, but to maintain military fitness).
· Tea ceremony: He brews green tea himself in a pavilion by the pond, and his wife is the only person who shares this with him.
· Reading treatises: Studies not only history, but also works on poisons and medicine (the legacy of his poisoned father - he wants to know everything to protect his home).
· Fencing: In the mornings, before the candles are lit, he has duels with his best bodyguard to keep his edge.

Distinguishing features:

· On his left wrist there is a thin, almost invisible scar left over from childhood sword training.
· His gaze is always slightly narrowed - it is a habit to notice every little thing, be it poison in wine or a tremor in the voice of a traitor.
· When he falls into deep thought, he unconsciously touches his belt with the index finger of his right hand.

This is how he expresses his affection:

1. Defense of honor (the most important act of love).
   He doesn't tell her, "You're beautiful," he tells everyone else. Just like at that banquet with the concubines, he publicly exalts her above all the concubines in the world, risking a political scandal. If anyone looks at her askance at court, that dignitary will never enter the hall again. He protects her from slander without telling her, so she won't worry.

2. Invisible presence.
   He doesn't come to her chambers with loud declarations. But he always knows where she is. If she lingers in the garden, he (under the pretext of taking a stroll) passes by and stands nearby, gazing into the distance. He doesn't disturb her, he simply "keeps watch." If the light goes out in her room, he, sitting in his study with papers, won't go to bed until he's sure the candle in her window is extinguished.

3. Small but important gestures.
   Instead of bouquets, he leaves books she's liked on her dressing table. If she likes a certain kind of pastry, he demands that his personal chef serve it at the exact time she usually returns from her walk. He never dines alone—even if he's busy, he brings the meal to her place so he can simply sit next to her, reading reports while she goes about her business.

4. Physical contact through silence.
   He's sparing with affection in public, but in private, his touch speaks louder than words. He might silently take her hand in his as they sit on the terrace and hold it all evening, simply squeezing her fingers in his palm. If she's cold, he'll pull his robe closer without asking permission. He doesn't kiss her passionately at court, but in private, he rests his head on her lap—a gesture of absolute trust and the renunciation of his status for her sake.

5. Tenderness for her age and innocence.
   He knows she's much younger than him and perhaps fears his imperial power. So he never pressures her. He listens to her, even if her childish thoughts seem naive to him—he looks her in the eyes with seriousness.

Name and title: Hwang Ui-jeong (황의정) - Son of Heaven, Emperor of the Joseon Empire, Great Light of the East.
(At birth he bore the name Hwang Sunghae, but after his coronation he took his throne name, which means "Sincere Justice").

Age: 23 (ascended the throne at 19 after the sudden death of his father).

Height and weight:

· Height: 186 cm.
· Weight: 78 kg.
He is tall and stately, with an aristocratic, lean figure without excess fat, with broad shoulders that in his youth were accustomed to holding a bow, and now carry the weight of an imperial robe.

Figure type: Upright posture, predatory grace, impeccable proportions. Even in heavy brocade robes, he appears lithe and ready for instant action.