As the wedding ceremony drew closer with only a few moments left, Kang was being dressed with the help of the court priestesses. One by one, the opulent red wedding garments were layered onto him, each piece more suffocating than the last. The mere thought of spreading his legs and accepting his own father in front of the concubines and ministers filled him with unbearable humiliation.
If there was any solace in his misfortune, it was that most of his siblings were already dead. The realization that he found comfort in their deaths made his skin crawl, and his body trembled involuntarily. His face, already pale, turned ghostly white as a wave of nausea rose within him. His entire body tensed, and one of the priestesses, Sehee, who had been observing him closely, approached with a concerned expression.
"Your Highness, are you feeling unwell?"
Hearing the title “Your Highness[1],” Kang stared blankly before resting his forehead against Sehee’s firm arm. Seeing his trembling lips biting down anxiously, Sehee quickly grasped his shoulders in alarm. Her soft and gentle touch made Kang look up at her, and with a stern expression, she held his face in her hands and said:
"Your Highness' noble body is no longer your own. It is a sacred vessel chosen by the heavens, destined to receive the sacred essence and bear the Son of Heaven’s child. You must cherish it."
"Don’t you find it strange?" Kang asked, his voice hollow. "Just a few days ago, I was still my father’s son."
Sehee fell silent at his words, observing him quietly before responding in a calm, measured tone.
"The heavens have chosen Your Highness for a greater purpose. We do not find it strange. Our duty is to serve you and ensure that you bear a noble heir to the empire. Nothing else matters."
These women, sworn servants of the state, lived solely to fulfill their roles. They neither pitied Kang nor the emperor, their eyes reflecting only cold pragmatism. Seeing their unwavering resolve, Kang resigned himself to their ministrations, sitting still as they meticulously combed his long, lustrous hair—hair that had been lovingly cared for by the emperor himself since childhood.
Kang stared straight ahead as they worked, his mind drifting. Standing silently in the distance was Damyeong, his longtime companion, now reduced to a watchful guard. Damyeong’s subordinates were similarly fixed on him, their eyes sharp, ever ready for the slightest sign of disobedience.
They all knew he was trapped—unable to act because of his mother. Yet, none of them offered help. Kang realized once more that in this resplendent palace, he had no allies. His heart felt hollow.
He had done everything he could to save his siblings, struggling desperately to keep them alive. And yet, in the end, all his efforts had been in vain.
Why does my chest ache so much…?
Pain throbbed within him, so sharp it made it difficult to breathe.
"Your Highness, it is time to rise. We must proceed with the preparations."
The priestesses took hold of Kang’s hands and helped him to his feet. His body wavered unsteadily. Seeing this, Damyeong stepped forward to support him, but Kang refused.
"It is His Majesty’s command," Damyeong murmured softly, lifting Kang effortlessly into his arms.
Kang wanted to say that he didn’t need his help, but since it was the emperor's will, he had no choice but to comply. Damyeong, as always, moved with unwavering loyalty, following the emperor's orders to the letter.
"Your Highness must fulfill your duty by bearing the Son of Heaven’s child. That is your role as consort. Once that is done, everything will become easier."
Damyeong held Kang’s hand gently, offering what he thought was comfort, but to Kang, it felt empty and meaningless. His eyes drooped, and despite his efforts to hold back his emotions, his head bowed in defeat. However, no one around him showed even the slightest flicker of sympathy.
‘The Son of Heaven is the mandate of Heaven.’
With this immutable decree, they wiped Kang’s face clean. His features were slightly swollen from days of silent tears, yet his strikingly sharp and elegant face still radiated an innate dignity. He had been the cherished son of the emperor, raised with boundless affection, and his beauty reflected that privilege.
The court ladies, attempting to adorn him beautifully for the wedding ceremony, set down the powder they had been holding. Kang sat silently, his eyes cast downward, fidgeting with his fingers. He shot a discontented glance at the heavy wedding robe draped over his shoulders. The long sleeves that covered his hands and the trailing hem that swept the floor felt cumbersome and restricting.
"Your Highness."
Hearing the unfamiliar title startled him, and Kang’s eyes fluttered open. No matter how many times he heard it, he couldn’t get used to it. Tugging at the layers of fabric enveloping him, Kang asked in a low voice,
"The wedding robes weren’t usually worn this way before…."
With the emperor yet to designate a crown prince and his children dying one by one, heaven seemed to have punished him by choosing consorts instead. Each time, the emperor was compelled to take new women into his embrace. Because of this, he had previously dispensed with elaborate ceremonies, focusing only on his duty without unnecessary pomp. Yet now, he insisted on this traditional attire.
Kang, feeling uneasy, fiddled with his sleeves, his expression wary.
"His Majesty has decreed that you wear the wedding robes."
"Abamama did?"
The court lady, applying powder to his face with a knowing smile, tilted her head slightly.
"Abamama? Your Highness, he is now your husband. You must call him 'Your Majesty.'"
Kang's face hardened at her words. The court lady, amused by his reaction, smiled sweetly.
"Surely, Your Highness wouldn't call him 'Abamama' while in His Majesty’s embrace? That wouldn't do. You must address him properly. Your Highness is no longer his child but his consort now."
Was it really only him who found this so difficult? Everyone else seemed so composed, leaving Kang at a loss for words. He hadn't even been given time to adjust. As his expression crumpled and he lowered his head in distress, the court lady gently chided him.
“Your Highness.”
Startled by her tone, Kang flinched and reluctantly lifted his gaze.
“You must never harm His Majesty’s body. Nor must you utter any words of pain or refusal….”
“I—I know.”
Kang’s face flushed crimson, and he awkwardly moved his lips without saying more. The court lady, unfazed, continued her duty of adorning him beautifully, her tone unwavering.
“His Majesty will personally remove your wedding attire, so Your Highness must not remove it yourself.”
“…What?”
The court lady smiled knowingly, as if it was obvious.
“It is customary in a wedding for the groom to undress the bride. Your Highness need only lie still and bring joy to His Majesty. This ceremony goes beyond a mere wedding….”
Pausing for a moment, she then gently pressed a brush to Kang’s lips, carefully applying color. Her voice grew firmer as she concluded,
“It is a sacred ritual to affirm Your Highness as a member of the imperial household, to receive the will of heaven, and to conceive His Majesty’s child. Your Highness must fulfill this duty with sincerity.”
If only he could drink something strong and forget everything about this day….
Unable to face forward any longer, Kang buried his head in his hands. The pain in his chest was far worse than anything in his head. It felt as though something heavy was pressing down on him, suffocating him with an unbearable weight.
Stop, stop, please stop… The same words echoed like desperate screams within his heart.
And then, the sound of bells rang through the air.
The wedding ceremony had begun.
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[1] Again, the address is mama, not wangja mama (Your HIghness the Prince)
The horror of reading this the first time 🫣