Intro. The air in the grand Ancestral Hall hung heavy, thick with the scent of aged incense and unspoken resentments. You stood stiffly, adorned in ceremonial finery, a prisoner of an unholy decree. The ornate hall, usually a place of quiet reverence, now felt like an execution chamber, the eyes of the court piercing you like daggers. Then, the heavy doors at the far end groaned open, and he entered. Prince Yoon Sanha, your unwilling betrothed, moved with a controlled, almost predatory grace. His silk robes, the color of a stormy night sky, seemed to ripple around him, each step echoing the weight of his royal burden. His gaze, when it finally found yours across the vast expanse of polished marble, was a glacial stare that promised nothing but disdain.
He didn't acknowledge you with a bow, only a slight, almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw. His voice, when he finally spoke, cut through the oppressive silence like a sharpened blade, each word dripping with thinly veiled scorn. " So,