SOTBS 1

Prologue

The waning crescent moon was dyed a crimson red. Scarlet flames, flickering like the tongues of malevolent spirits, engulfed the night sky, and agonized screams filled the imperial palace.

“Treason! His Majesty the Emperor has been assassinated!”

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When the Crown Princess pushed open the side door with trembling hands, she was met with a towering mound of corpses. The powerful ministers and members of the royal family lay scattered in pitiful states, their blood forming a pool that rippled ominously. The pungent stench of blood filled the Phoenix Hall. It was truly a scene from hell.

At the center of this hell stood a tall man clad entirely in black. He seemed as though he had emerged from the depths of the abyss—or perhaps he was the darkness itself. In his hand, he held a long sword, its silver blade dripping with fresh, crimson blood. Before him lay the headless body of a man, blood gushing from the severed neck and soaking the man in front of him.

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The Crown Princess’s body trembled uncontrollably. The suffocating scent of death overwhelmed her, and she could scarcely breathe. Overcome with fear, she shut her eyes tightly. The face of Emperor Gwangseong, mocking her, appeared vividly in her mind.

“Hibiya! My lovely, foolish Hibiya! To think you were used so thoroughly by Galmunwang and yet remained oblivious. Hahaha.”

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Yes, Your Majesty is right. I am indeed this foolish.

“What did Galmunwang whisper to you? Did he profess his love for you? Though he offered you to me, did he promise to carry you in his heart for all his days? Hah, did you truly believe those lies? Poor thing, to have caused me such pain. For this, you shall be punished.”

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But His Majesty does not know. He never whispered false, sweet promises to me. His heart has long belonged to another; he never had even a sliver of affection left to give me. Even as blind as I was, how could I not have known? Yet, this foolish heart yearned for him, and yearned still…

“Hhk…”

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The Crown Princess stifled a sob with both hands and turned her head. But her gaze landed on a severed head lying on the floor, its lifeless eyes wide open. The head, its mouth grotesquely agape, belonged to her father, Woo Uigeo. Beside him lay the corpse of her half-brother, Gwan Gugum.

Her neck stiffened, and goosebumps erupted all over her body. She collapsed to the ground, her silk skirt soaking up the blood. It felt as though rough hands were choking her, cutting off her air. She struggled to breathe but to no avail.

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“Ugh… Ah…”

At the sound of her strangled cries, Galmunwang finally turned his head. He nonchalantly wiped the blood from his lips and fixed his gaze on the Crown Princess. His hands, drenched in the warm blood of his enemies, made his face look even more terrifyingly bloodstained, like that of a demon. No, this man was a demon. The bloodied sword in his hand was not the vajra of a guardian deity but the weapon of a demon that tore people apart.

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“Hibiya.”

As he took in the sight of the Crown Princess trembling like a leaf, a slow smile spread across Galmunwang’s lips. It was a smile that oozed across his face like the blood soaking his skin—a smile of cruel satisfaction, one only a truly delighted man could wear. It was far more merciless and chilling than the sneer of Emperor Gwangseong.

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“Hibiya, my beautiful flower, my joy! Even your father, Woo Uigeo, was an enemy of Galmunwang.”

“What are you saying…?”

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“It was Woo Uigeo who beheaded Crown Prince Geumso with his own hands and stabbed the pregnant Crown Princess to death with the blood-soaked sword, enabling me to ascend to the throne. He was my greatest ally.”

“Lies! I will not believe Your Majesty’s lies.”

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“Hahaha, you wish to believe my words are lies? So that you can continue to trust that Galmunwang did not deceive you?”

“No, I simply trust him. That is all I need.”

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“Foolish girl! But everything I have said is the truth. Without such achievements, how could a mere Byongbuwi officer from a ninth-ranked family rise to become the Grand Chancellor of Sadaeguk?”

Enemy. Enemy. Enemy.

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The words of Emperor Gwangseong buzzed in her ears like a swarm of bees.

“You, the daughter of Woo Uigeo, who murdered Crown Prince Geumso and the Crown Princess, are the child of my eternal enemy, Galmunwang.”

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No, no! His Majesty cannot know everything!

The Crown Princess shook her head violently, covering her ears with both hands. But when her gaze met Galmunwang’s, her trembling stopped.

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Death, the black darkness, and the stench of blood closed in on her.

The Gallant King’s dignified and masculine features, observed up close, were as exquisite as ever, eliciting admiration once more. However, Taeju, unable to bear the overwhelming terror, clenched her fists desperately, her face pale as if she’d seen a grim reaper. The Gallant King slowly leaned toward the trembling Taeju.

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Drip. A drop of blood slid down his hair and fell onto her smooth, white cheek.

“Gasp!” Startled, Taeju gasped sharply, but in her frightened state, she did not realize the truth. The warm, metallic scent of blood—surely her kin’s—immediately enveloped her face. The stifling feeling was as if wet paper was clogging her breathing. She mustered all her strength to suppress the nausea welling up inside her.

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Whether it was the revolting scent of blood or sheer terror, she couldn’t tell.

“What brings Her Highness to this place?”

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The Gallant King’s melodious voice, matching his elegant appearance, reverberated. Yet Taeju’s face only turned paler.

“I… I…”

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“My, it seems you’ve been splattered with blood.”

The Gallant King clicked his tongue softly, his gaze settling on the drop of blood staining Taeju’s skin, which shone like white jade under the moonlight. With a composed smile, he gently brushed the blood from her cheek with the back of his hand.

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“A lovely face like yours shouldn’t be sullied with blood.”

The crimson tortoiseshell prosthetic on the Gallant King’s left little finger brushed against her tender skin, threatening to cut it, sending chills through Taeju’s body.

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Long ago, as a child, Yu had severed his own finger to make a humiliating vow to Emperor Gwangseong, saving his life. Since then, he’d worn a tortoiseshell prosthetic in place of the missing joint. The Gallant King’s artificial finger had grown darker and redder, nourished by the blood of his enemies.

“Has Her Highness’s pristine beauty been ruined?”

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The cold, sharp texture of the tortoiseshell made it impossible for Taeju to even breathe.

The Gallant King’s hand slid down her slender neck and halted at her throat, his fingers spreading slowly. Her delicate neck fit easily into his single palm, enough that a simple squeeze could snap it. His thumb brushed over the bluish vein throbbing madly beneath her skin.

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“But why is Her Highness trembling so?”

“… …”

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“You have nothing to fear now that I’m here.”

His hand was icy, his black eyes devoid of any warmth, yet his gentle words unsettled Taeju further. No, more than fear, Taeju felt sorrow. More than sorrow, she was in profound pain.

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“I… I never… sought your affection.”

She had never hoped for his affection, nor did she expect him to look her way.

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But it was fine. She found joy and solace in merely being useful to him. She had resolved to love him in silence her entire life.

She did not know if he despised her or if he saw her as the unforgivable daughter of his sworn enemy.

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“Benefactor…”

Her voice, hoarse and barely audible, was filled with sorrow. Her lips, trembling with tears she hadn’t realized were falling, looked like petals trembling before the fierce northern wind, red and pitiful.

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“Am I… your enemy’s daughter?”

Even as Taeju finally addressed him as her benefactor after so long, the Gallant King remained silent, his expression unreadable.

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Seeing the coldness in his face, Taeju lowered her head like a wilted flower and bit her lips hard.

“Now that I’ve outlived my usefulness, will you abandon me? Or will you kill me for being your enemy’s child?”

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Her voice, flowing from her limp form, was calm. Yet, it carried a suppressed intensity, emotions she couldn’t fully contain.

“Benefactor, kill me. Pierce my chest with that blade.”

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Taeju raised her head and, glaring at the Gallant King, shouted in a voice filled with despair.

“Fulfill everything! Do it now!”

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Tears brimmed in her fiery eyes, and her chest heaved as though it might burst. When she had been forced into Emperor Gwangseong’s palace as a concubine, not a trace of resentment had shown. But now, with her reddened eyes filled with anguish, the Gallant King spoke, almost pleased.

“Outlived your usefulness, you say?”

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His soft voice, whisper-like, was chilling, and Taeju was seized with an inexplicable dread.