DN03

Episode 3

A Revenge That Turned to Smoke

“To call it a lie… That’s preposterous.”

“And yet you speak so boldly with such a face.”

Gyeom grabbed Danseol’s chin and tilted her face upward. Her clear, glass-like eyes quivered wide open, and within them were shame and fear.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You recoil even at the mere touch of my hand.”

Yet she acted as though nothing was amiss, and that attitude irked him deeply.

“That’s not true.”

Her firm reply made Gyeom’s lips curl. In the next moment, he seized her shoulders and pushed her down to the floor. The sudden movement toppled the oil lamp, and darkness fell over the room.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

“Why the startled look?”

His low voice brushed her ear, and Danseol’s heart pounded wildly. The thought of being violated by the man who destroyed her family and her nation was more unbearable than death. But that wasn’t what mattered now.

‘I have to divert his attention…’

She had to remove the ornamental hairpin from her hair without him noticing.

“Strange… I never imagined I’d be the one to claim you tonight.”

Gyeom’s hand reached out and gently ran through Danseol’s long, disheveled hair, its sweet scent lingering in the air. Her skin, pale and glowing under the moonlight, reminded him of fresh, untouched snow. He felt an irresistible urge to leave his mark upon that pristine landscape.

He had never felt this way toward a woman before. The unexpected emotion unsettled him.

“I was merely startled.”

Danseol’s unwavering calm only stirred Gyeom further. He, who was losing his composure, wanted nothing more than to break hers.

“For someone who came to offer herself to me, you’re rather timid.”

“If that were the case, I wouldn’t have come here at all.”

As if to prove her words, Danseol slowly reached up and pulled the hairpin from her neatly tied hair.

“…Ha. I see.”

A murky desire stirred within Gyeom, teetering between curiosity and danger.

His fingers drifted lower from her hair, brushing against skin softer than he had imagined—like snow melting under warm hands.

As his hand touched her slender neck and traced the collar of her robe, her flinching response was unmistakable.

A woman who reacts this sensitively with the slightest touch was, in many ways, far more dangerous.

He peeled away a layer of her clothing. Beneath it, her pale, untouched skin was revealed.

Why do I want to taste her a little more?
Her exposed shoulders and the subtle curve of her chest stirred something in him.

“You needn’t hesitate.”

“After all, wasn’t I sent here to be offered to Your Majesty?”

“…Ha.”

Her detached tone, cloaked in moonlight, was almost comical. Judging by her reactions, it was clear this was her first time. Yet she maintained a calm, practiced facade. That contradiction both amused and intrigued him.

He hadn’t known he had a taste for such women.

Before Danseol could even grasp what was happening, their breaths mingled. A faint scent of white orchids wafted between them—too light and fragrant to be a man’s.

A hot breath slipped between her lips. She had a vague idea of what intimacy between a man and woman entailed, but never imagined it would be so raw and overwhelming.

Tears welled in her eyes as she subtly worked at the clasp of the hairpin.

“Why? Now that I try to claim you, you resist?”

Gyeom’s voice, teasing and cold, jolted her back to alertness.

“Of course not.”

Danseol responded boldly, hoping to hold his attention just a bit longer.

Just a little more time…

“Yes. That’s more amusing.”

Gyeom kissed her again. Their limbs tangled, breaths and warmth intertwined. His body heat burned through the thin fabric, and his deepening breath signaled a growing urgency.

Her neatly arranged robes were coming undone, revealing a lean, muscular frame.

But Danseol’s focus remained solely on the hairpin.

Almost there…

At last, the covering of the golden hairpin slipped free with a soft click.

Breathing heavily, Danseol wrapped her arms around his thick neck. Thankfully, Gyeom moved in without suspicion.

Through her heat-blurred vision, she spotted the vein throbbing at the base of his neck.

As he lifted his head slightly, revealing the unguarded target, Danseol struck, aiming the sharp pin at Gyeom’s throat.

Why… does he have… that mark?

But the sight of a plum blossom-shaped scar beneath his collarbone froze her in place. Her own body bore the exact same mark.

Shock rooted her in place.

Her hesitation gave him the chance to grab her wrist.

“I knew something was off.”

Gyeom looked down at her with cold eyes, breath ragged from what had just transpired.

Her movements, her elegant bearing, the unshaken demeanor in front of an emperor—it all rang alarm bells in his head.

And that persistent grip on the hairpin…

He’d been watching closely.

His grip tightened around her wrist.

“Ah—”

Unable to resist his strength, the sharp-tipped hairpin slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

“Who put you up to this?”

He looked calmly into Danseol’s eyes, which now burned with rage. Her delicate face, once serene, was twisted with fury.

“No one. I acted alone.”

A foolish plan like this couldn’t have come from anyone else.

Indeed, it was absurd. To think she could kill the most powerful man in Hwangshin Nation with a single golden pin—there was no logic to it.

It had been reckless, desperate.

“Will torture make you confess?”

“Just kill me here instead.”

“I refuse.”

Danseol’s face crumpled at the reply, as though she had just been dealt the gravest insult. Gyeom merely stood and picked up the fallen hairpin.

“Do you know why Hwangseong Nation selects daughters from other lands?”

“Because the palace maids of Hwangshin… often die.”

They die from harsh labor, from secret missions, from offending the wrong person.

No woman of Hwangseong willingly chose to become a palace maid. So Hwangshin Nation conscripted women from other countries instead.

“To live because you cannot die—that will be your punishment.”

Surely, she would come to regret surviving this night.

“So survive.”

He slipped the golden hairpin into his robes and turned to leave the room.

Outside, his attendant, Hwan, approached swiftly.

“To the Sinil Hall, Your Majesty?”

“Leave the woman inside. She needs time alone.”

“Understood.”

Casting one last glance at the building behind him, Gyeom walked away without hesitation.

“Will Your Majesty dine at the Geonil Hall?”

As they approached the hall, the eunuch inquired carefully.

“I will.”

“Then shall I summon the imperial physician as well?”

“Bring the memorial I had requested too.”

“At once.”

Before long, Gyeom arrived at the Geonimjeon—the Hall of the Sun, where the emperors of Hwangshin Nation traditionally resided.

Though it should’ve felt familiar by now, this place still didn’t feel like home to him.

“Your Majesty, the physician has arrived.”

Three court ladies entered, carrying white silk robes. But Gyeom didn’t spare them even a glance.

They were used to it.

Setting down the robes in silence, they departed quietly.

Only once the doors closed did Gyeom rise and change into his robes by himself.

Ever since reaching adulthood, he had avoided the touch of court women.

It was because of his mother.

He was not the Empress’s son, but the son of a favored court lady. Because the Empress had no children, he was able to inherit the throne.

But that did not mean he had no rivals—or that the path had been easy.

“Your mother is dead to me.”

He hadn’t even been allowed to drink from her breast before she died from childbirth. From that moment on, the Empress had raised him.

“Did I not tell you? I am your mother. So never ask about that lowly woman again!”

He had once dared to ask about the woman who birthed him, only to be slapped and scolded harshly. Since then, he never mentioned her again.

He had grown up alone, never relying on anyone emotionally.

If I ever become emperor, I will never take concubines.

He knew better than anyone the kind of life a child of low birth would lead.

That’s why he avoided women of the palace altogether. To uproot the cycle before it began.

Which made tonight’s meeting with Danseol—and even drinking with her—so very out of character.

“Have I been bewitched without knowing?”

As Gyeom tied his sash, Danseol’s fair face floated to mind once more.

And again, a heat he had thought extinguished surged within him.

It was instinct, and something more—a pull.

He didn’t know why, out of all women, it had to be her.

The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

And so, he tightened his sash even further.