Episode 1

The candlelight flickered faintly against the silk drapes of the imperial bedchamber, painting the golden embroidery in restless shadows. The night outside was quiet—too quiet, as if the heavens themselves held their breath.

Seo Yun-woo sat by the window, his long hair, the color of pale gold, spilling like sunlight over his bare shoulders. His robe was loosely tied, exposing a chest marked not by war but by tenderness. In his hand rested a small, delicate comb—an ordinary object, yet one that trembled in his grasp. He had sensed it for days: the strange silence in the corridors, the weight in the servants’ gazes, the distance in Kim Jae-hwan’s voice.

And now, the silence of the night felt like the silence before execution.

The door opened without warning. The heavy scent of sandalwood swept in before him—the emperor. Kim Jae-hwan stood there in his dark robes, embroidered with golden flames, his crown casting shadows over his eyes. His hand rested at his side, fingers curling around the hilt of a blade hidden in the folds of his garment.

Yun-woo turned, lips curving into a fragile smile. “Jae-hwan… it’s late.” His voice carried no suspicion, only weary affection.

But the emperor did not answer. His steps were steady, deliberate, each one echoing against the polished floor. Yun-woo’s heart sank with every stride. When Jae-hwan’s shadow fell over him, the warmth that once lived in his chest turned to dread.

“Why… do you look at me like that?” Yun-woo whispered, his fingers tightening on the comb. He saw the reflection in Jae-hwan’s eyes—cold, merciless, and yet burning with something he could not name.

In the quiet, the blade slipped free with a hiss.

The golden-haired beauty’s breath caught. His lips parted, not in protest, but in disbelief. The man who had once sworn eternal devotion now raised steel against him.

Yun-woo staggered back, his bare feet brushing against the silk bedding, but the emperor’s hand caught his wrist with crushing force. Jae-hwan’s grip was unyielding, his other hand steady as he drove the blade forward.

The sound of steel piercing flesh broke the stillness of the room.

Yun-woo’s body convulsed, a sharp gasp escaping his throat as the sword sank deep into his abdomen. Warm blood blossomed instantly, staining the pale silk of his robe and dripping down to the floor. Crimson petals bloomed upon the ivory sheets, spreading wider with each heartbeat.

The comb fell from his hand with a dull clatter. His golden hair, once radiant like sunlight, clung to his damp skin, strands matted by blood.

His knees weakened. The emperor pulled him close, almost as if holding a lover in an embrace. Yet the blade remained lodged in his body, cruelly binding them together.

The scent of iron filled the room, thick and suffocating. Blood soaked into the emperor’s sleeve, searing itself into the embroidered dragons, staining the fabric with irreversible sin.

Yun-woo’s lips trembled, but no words came. His eyes, wide and luminous even through the haze of pain, searched Jae-hwan’s face—not for mercy, but for a reason. Why? Why the man he had loved, the man who once caressed his hair and whispered vows beneath the moon, now held the weapon that ended him?

The emperor’s jaw clenched, his face unreadable. Only the faintest tremor in his hand betrayed the war within. For duty, for power, for a throne—he had chosen betrayal.

Yun-woo’s vision blurred, the edges of the world dimming. His body grew cold, though his blood burned as it spilled from him. He swayed in Jae-hwan’s grasp, his strength fading with each passing breath.

The curtains stirred with the night wind, crimson fabric flowing like rivers of blood. In that moment, he realized: this was the end. Not by illness, not by fate, but by the very hand he once held in devotion.

A single tear slipped down his cheek, mixing with the crimson at his lips. His golden lashes fluttered, his body collapsing into the emperor’s arms as the last of his warmth fled.

The room fell silent again. Only the steady drip of blood upon the polished floor broke the stillness, echoing like the tolling of a bell.

In Kim Jae-hwan’s arms, Seo Yun-woo lay motionless—his golden hair dimming, his radiance extinguished. The emperor’s blade had stolen not only his life, but the fragile promise of eternity they once shared.

The night swallowed the scene whole, leaving behind nothing but silence… and betrayal carved into their souls.

— To be continued.

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