PART:3

Ji-woon P.O.V

I see a truck speeding towards Soo-ah. My heart stops. Without thinking, I throw myself between her and the truck, trying to push her out of the way. But it's too late.

The impact hits us both, sending us flying. Pain explodes through my body. I land hard on the pavement, my vision blurring. Everything feels distant, like I’m floating.

I turn my head—Soo-ah is next to me. Blood seeps from her forehead. I try to move, to reach for her, but my body refuses to obey. My breath slows, each one shallower than the last.

"If I get a second chance... to live with her... I will protect Soo-ah... at any cost… Soo-ah... sorry for irritating you… but… I always do this because... I..."

Darkness swallows me whole. My eyes close. Is this it? Is this the end?

But then...

A voice.

"Prince Sung-min! Wake up! If you don't get up fast, you'll be late for your own wedding!"

My eyes flutter open. Everything is blurry at first. A man stands over me, speaking urgently. My body feels different—lighter, stronger.

"W-what... my wedding?" I mumble, confused.

I glance around. The room is massive, draped in luxurious fabrics, decorated like something out of a historical drama. I sit up, my head spinning. The last thing I remember was the accident… then why am I here?

The man—who seems to be a servant—chuckles. "Prince, did you train with your sword too late again? You’re so focused on improving that you forgot your own wedding day. But no worries, I'll send in your royal clothes now."

He leaves before I can ask anything else.

I try to steady my breathing. What is happening?

I stand up, my legs shaky, and turn towards a large mirror. But the moment I see my reflection, my heart nearly stops.

That’s not me.

He's like the calm before a storm—silent, composed, but radiating a kind of power that makes the air around him feel charged.

His hair, a shade of jet black with streaks that shimmer like the ocean under moonlight, falls in effortless waves across his forehead. It’s wild yet regal, as if even chaos bows to his will.

His eyes? Celestial. Piercing shades of sapphire that hold galaxies behind them—depths of dreams, danger, and destiny. There’s something in his gaze that makes people look twice. Not out of admiration—but instinct. Like their soul knows it’s standing before something not quite mortal.

His face is the kind that artists dream of—sculpted jaw, smooth skin, lips that curl into a smirk with the precision of a weapon. He looks like he was carved by the gods but cursed by demons. Beauty like his doesn’t ask for attention. It owns it.

He moves like a king who hasn’t been crowned yet—but everyone knows he will be. Every step is confidence without arrogance, control without effort. There’s fire in his veins, lightning in his voice, and an empire in his stare.

People call him a hero.

But beneath that divine smile, behind the calm voice, there’s a storm waiting. A devil who wears a halo, not because he’s good—but because he chooses when to be.

They say he’s the future king.

But even kings have limits.

He doesn't have

The man staring back at me is unfamiliar—his face sharp, elegant, almost too perfect. My hand trembles as I touch my cheek. Is this a dream?

I pinch myself. Hard

"Ahh! Damn, that hurts!"

The pain is real. This isn’t a dream.

I stumble back, my mind racing. Did I... get reincarnated? No, that’s impossible. That only happens in stories. But the vidence is right in front of me—I’m in someone else’s body.

The door swings open again. The same sevant—Soon-jo, I think he said—walks in, holding a set of royal garments.

"Prince, you’re not ready yet?" He sighs. "I know you don’t want this marriage, but you can’t disobey the king. If you don’t hurry, he’ll be furious."

He places the clothes on the bed and gestures for me to wash up.

Still dazed, I follow his instructions without arguing. The bathroom is massive—my old apartment could fit in here twice. A grand bathtub, a vanity table, a mirror larger than anything I’ve ever owned.

I stare at my reflection again.

Handsome.

No—ridiculously handsome. If I weren’t so freaked out, I’d admire this face longer.

"Prince! Do you need help washing up?" Soon-jo calls from outside.

"What?! No, no! I’m fine!" I rush through washing up and grab a towel.

I step out, still in a daze. "Uh… can you give me my clothes? Soon-jo hands them over,

looking slightly stunned. "Prince… you’re acting different today. You never ask things so politely."

Crap. I have to act like this Sung-min guy. I clear my throat and force a small laugh. "Well, since I’m getting married, I figured I should… change my attitude?"

Soon-jo gives me a suspicious look but says nothing.

As I dress, the weight of the situation sinks in. I’m about to get married. To someone I don’t even know.

[The wedding clothes]

Soon-jo watches me carefully. "Prince, are you sure you’re okay? You seem… different. You even forgot my name for a second."

I freeze but quickly cover it up. "I’ve been training too hard, that’s all."

"Right… well, we should leave. We’re late."

He leads me out, but the moment we step into the hall, I hesitate. I have no idea where to go.

"Hey, Soon-jo, why don’t you walk in front of me?" I suggest.

His eyes widen in shock, like I’ve just committed a crime. "Prince! That’s against royal protocol! No one walks ahead of the future king!"

What kind of ridiculous rule is that?

I sigh. "Well, as your future king, I’m ordering you to walk in front of me."

Soon-jo still looks horrified but obeys. At least now I won’t embarrass myself by getting lost.

We enter the grand hall, and every eye turns to me. Nobles bow in respect. My heartbeat speeds up. This is insane.

Then, an older man approaches, wearing a golden crown. His face is stern yet proud. The king. My new Father

"Ah, my son, Sung-min, finally you’re here." The king claps a hand on my shoulder. "You kept us waiting, but no matter. Let’s head to the ceremony."

I nod, forcing a smile. "Yes, Father." The word feels foreign on my tongue.

We step into a grand carriage, just the two of us. My nerves spike—if he asks something personal, I’m screwed.

"Sung-min," the king starts, his tone serious. "This marriage is important for our kingdom’s future. The girl you’re marrying—Yuri—is our enemy’s daughter. We may have made a truce, but we cannot trust them. Keep your guard up."

So it’s a political marriage.

"I understand," I say, keeping my expression neutral.

The ride ends. We arrive at a breathtaking venue—grand, majestic, straight out of a fantasy novel. Soon-jo opens the carriage door, and I step out.

As I walk inside, the reality of it all sinks in. This is happening. I’m about to get married.

People bow as I enter. The ceremony stage is ahead. I climb onto it, my mind racing.

Then—whispers spread through the crowd. I turn around.

The bride has arrived.

And the moment I see her, my breath catches.

"Oh my god… she… she’s beautiful."

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