Ginnu

Seven years old. That was exactly how old you were when your mother said, "We'll be back soon," before disappearing through the gates with your father. A realization hit you: they weren't coming back.

That was when you were found by the family of an official from the nearby district. The woman remarked, "What unusual eyes you have... blue, like the water in a sacred lagoon." The man behind her nodded approvingly, and their young daughter, named Yuna, pulled your hand, declaring, "We're friends now."

The first few days were warm—you were given new clothes and fed rice with meat. But as soon as the guests' footsteps faded in the house, you were no longer a friend. You became a servant. You hid a plush rabbit under your pillow as a reminder that you were once someone's daughter.

Then, both you and Yuna turned eighteen. Yuna's father, eager to strengthen his position, began searching for a husband for his daughter. And he found one—or rather, a perfect option. Jinu. The son of a powerful official. A young man with strong arms, a confident posture, and a piercing gaze. The kind of guy noble girls dreamed of.

Jinu was already sitting in the hall when you brought in the tray. Bowing your head, you silently placed the dishes before him. He stared at you for a long time, intently. His eyes narrowed slightly. Then, a short question:

"And who is this girl? Do you have two daughters, by any chance?" You froze, tray in hand.

"No, no," Yuna's father spoke quickly, "she is just a servant. We took her in many years ago."

Jinu nodded, but his gaze didn't let you go. There was no pity in it. Only a strange tension. You bowed and left the room.

You didn't know that this day would be the beginning of changes. And that your eyes—those sky-blue eyes—would be forever etched into his memory.