"My Lady, have you woken up?"
A woman's voice pulled Miye out of his daze. The knocking must have been going on for quite some time, because he jolted upright the moment he heard it. A sharp pain pulsed through his temples, his second nightmare of the night still clinging to him like a curse.
He brushed aside the soft strands of hair that had fallen over his fair face and tucked them gently behind his ear. Then he walked to the door and eased it open only halfway, cautious.
"You are…?"
The woman standing outside was dressed as a court servant, but Miye didn't recognize her. She appeared to be in her late thirties, her posture stiff, her eyes nervous—clearly someone unfamiliar with the palace's routines.
Realizing her mistake, she immediately bowed.
"Forgive me, My Lady. I failed to introduce myself. My name is Chunhee, your new maid. I was appointed only last night, but I did not wish to disturb your rest while you were asleep."
"Where is Yuna…?"
Yuna had been his maid for years. She knew him better than anyone in the palace -- knew his habits, his nature, even the truth that the so-called Princess of this kingdom was, in fact, a man.
Her absence could only mean one thing.
"So he found out, huh…" Miye whispered under his breath.
Chunhee blinked, unsure if she should respond, but wisely kept silent. Miye sighed and stepped aside, reluctantly allowing her in.
She entered the room carrying a tray of covered dishes. But when she set it down, Miye noticed the disappointing size of the meal. Barely enough for a child, much less an adult.
So… he wasn't going to have a full stomach again.
Miye sat down at his dressing table while Chunhee moved to the wardrobe, carefully laying out his attire for the day.
"My Lady," she began, "the Prince will be coming to visit you today."
"What? Why would he come here?"
"He said it concerns an official matter that must be discussed with you, Milady."
"…I see."
"So I must prepare you in your most presentable state. Although your beauty alone is enough to astonish any man… the Prince mentioned he would like to see you properly dressed." Chunhee hesitated, lowering her voice. "He… said he would like to see you dolled up."
Miye didn't flinch. He had grown used to such descriptions, especially when they came from him.
To the Prince, Miye was never a person, only a possession. A gift handed to him on his birthday. A doll he could name, control, dress, and display as he pleased.
Even calling him a woman was just another excuse to justify the Prince's whims.
Chunhee stepped closer, reaching for the ties of Miye's robe.
But before her fingers could graze the fabric, Miye's hand shot up and clamped around her wrist.
Her breath hitched, "F-Forgive me--"
Miye let go, his expression cold, controlled.
"I assume the Prince did not brief you about the rules of the Princess's chambers."
"N-No, Milady…"
"Well, here is one you must remember." His voice tightened, a trace of bitterness slipping through.
"I do not allow anyone to undress or dress me. I will handle it myself."
Chunhee bowed so quickly her hair brushed the floor.
"Of course, Milady. I-I shall wait outside until you call."
The moment the doors shut behind her, Miye exhaled sharply, as if releasing a breath he had been holding for years.
He loosened the knot of his top and watched his reflection in the mirror.
A small, frail body stared back -- delicate, almost breakable. His skin was milky white, except for the two faint pink petals of his chest.
If he had been allowed to live as a man… would he have looked different?
If he had continued his swordsmanship training, would his arms have carried strength instead of slender helplessness?
He shut down the thought. It was useless. It always had been.
He dressed in the attire Chunhee had laid out: layers of soft silk, the rich colors of royalty, the delicate embroidery that belonged to a woman of the court.
And just like every morning, the transformation was absolute.
Underneath the elegant skirts and flowing ribbons was a man's body, yet no one would ever suspect it.
All they ever saw was beauty -- the kind of ethereal grace that made even nobles forget to breathe.
A stunning woman. A perfect doll.
A lie the Prince had crafted with his own hands.
"You may come out now."
Chunhee stepped inside with small, cautious steps. Her breath caught the moment she saw Miye standing before her. Even expressionless, he was breathtaking, so much so that she almost forgot to breathe.
His long lashes framed eyes the color of brownish gold, catching the morning light like warm amber. His hair, glossy and black, flowed down his back like strands of woven silk. And beneath his right eye, the small beauty mark stood out like a drop of ink on porcelain.
"M-Milady, you… you look beautiful…"
"Don't make that face," Miye replied flatly. Compliments meant nothing to him. "Come help me with my hair."
Chunhee nodded quickly and stepped behind him, her hands trembling as she began to tie his long silky hair with delicate precision.
…
Miye sat on the floor with his hands placed neatly on his knees, a thin veil cascading over him like moonlight. He waited quietly.
Then he felt that obnoxious presence.
Even from a distance, Miye felt the suffocating weight of it creeping closer like a shadow.
He's here.
Footsteps echoed, many at first… then only one. The door opened without so much as a knock.
Miye lifted his gaze.
A man in royal attire stepped inside, luxury draped over him like armor. His black gat cast a dark shadow over Miye as he approached.
Hwa Yu Gwon. The Prince of Hwachon.
The absolute ruler in this palace… and the captor of Miye's life.
His ferocious black eyes were rimmed faintly with red, like a predator's. A smirk curved on his lips -- childlike, yet sickening. The expression of someone who had found his favorite toy exactly where he left it.
"Miye," he said, voice deep and commanding, "stand up."
The pressure of his tone alone felt like a boulder crashing onto Miye's shoulders, but he obeyed, trembling.
"Take off the veil. You don't need to hide your face from me."
The chuckle that followed held no warmth.
Miye removed it. Their eyes met.
"What beauty…" The prince's smirk deepened, though his eyes stayed sharp and menacing. "I was right to hide you from the commoners."
"…Where is Yuna?" Miye asked, forcing himself to speak before he lost his nerve. His voice trembled, but his will didn't.
"Oh?" The prince raised a brow. "So bold now?"
"It's just… I wasn't notified of anything--"
"And why," the prince stepped closer, lowering his face to Miye's, "would I notify you? You have no authority to know everything."
Miye's fists tightened at his sides. If he could, he would bury one into the prince's face. But the outcome of that was already written, death.
"After all," Yu Gwon continued, "You know exactly why I dismissed her. You can't hide anything from me."
So Miye's worst suspicion was true. The prince had found out Yuna knew his secret.
"What… did you do to her?"
"Mmm…" The prince pretended to think, tapping his chin with amusement. "Since she kept denying it… I believe I cut her tongue off for lying to me."
Miye's heart sank. His breath vanished.
Yuna, someone he trusted, someone who had cared for him like a mother -- suffered because of him?
His vision blurred with tears.
The prince noticed and smiled as if he was satisfied to see the pain in Miye's eyes.
He lifted Miye's chin with cold fingers, leaned in, and licked away the tear that clung to his skin.
"I told you," he whispered, voice slicing through him, "You are not supposed to feel emotions."
Miye only looked away as Yugwon tipped his chin back up.
"You've lost quite a lot of weight," Yugwon murmured, eyes scanning him. "I'm changing your diet. You need some flesh on you. My birthday is around the corner. I don't want to do it with a rack of bones."
"Why did you come here?" Miye asked, still refusing to look at him.
"Ah, right, "Yugwon drew a scroll from his sleeve and tossed it to the floor. It unfurled with a soft roll. "Father and the queen will be visiting soon."
"Mother is coming…?"
Miye's eyes flickered with hope -- delicate, almost painful hope. Was she finally coming for him? Maybe this was his last chance to leave this gilded prison. He no longer cared for childish luxuries or royal titles. All he wanted… was to be with his mother.
"There's word from intel," Yugwon continued, almost smug, "That the purpose of their visit is a marriage proposal."
He stepped closer. "Do not worry. Even if I marry…" He reached out, twirling a few strands of Miye's silky hair between his fingers. "I'll never leave you."
He brushed his cheek against Miye's soft skin. Miye flinched as he whispered, "Or you could just kill my wife and become queen yourself. Just like your mother."
The words struck hard. Miye had been blamed for the late queen's death ever since his mother, a mere commoner before the king claimed her, rose to the throne. Miye never knew his real father. His place in the palace existed only because his mother had married the king.
Hate followed him everywhere... until the day Yugwon silenced every whisper with executions. After that, Miye was the princess, adored only for his beauty. Anyone who knew the truth, that Miye was a man, did not live to tell it.
Yugwon had saved him but Miye's life was never truly his to live as a price.
"Haa…" Miye shoved him back. "My mother did not kill anyone."
Yugwon almost laughed. "Are you actually defending her? After she abandoned you? She didn't even look at you when I dragged you away. What makes you think she'll look at you now? Don't you get it? She doesn't care about you."
The words hit Miye like a blunt strike then sank into him like an arrow.
No - he knew Yugwon spoke truth. But accepting it… that was something his heart refused.
"Shut up!" Miye snapped. Tears slipped down, hidden by his bangs.
The sight infuriated Yugwon. A rebellion, no matter how small, was unacceptable.
He seized Miye by the back of his head. "Do not forget who gave you life. If I hadn't taken you in, the royal court would've killed you anyway."
He slammed Miye to the floor. The thud echoed sharply in the chamber.
"They'll be here in three months," Yugwon said, pulling out a small towel to wipe the hand that had touched Miye. "Until then, prepare yourself for my birthday banquet."
He cast one last, cold glare at Miye lying on the floor.
"Do not forget your place. I own you."
The door slammed shut. Silence swallowed the princess's chamber.
If one listened closely beneath the stillness, were the soft, broken sounds of Miye's quiet sobs -- each one a curse at his own existence.