As Kang knelt in poised silence, awaiting the Emperor, the sound of the slowly opening doors froze him in place. The first figure to appear was the Emperor himself, surrounded by an entourage of guards. Despite the ceremony having concluded, the Emperor was still adorned in the resplendent twelve-tiered crown and pristine white ceremonial dragon robe, marking his divine authority.
Startled by the unforeseen decree from the heavens, Kang stiffened. It was only when the Emperor’s deliberate steps drew near that he regained his senses and began retreating instinctively. The Emperor's serene, kind smile was as familiar as it was unnerving—there was something oddly askew, a subtle wrongness that set Kang’s nerves alight.
Like a deer trapped in a snare, Kang’s wide eyes wavered as he continued stepping back until his shoulder blades hit the unyielding wall. The solid barrier behind him jolted him back to reality, forcing him to face the scene ahead.
The Emperor’s shadow stretched long and imposing, consuming Kang's smaller figure. As the embroidered crown moved in sync with the Emperor’s steps, the delicate sound of its tassels brushing against one another stirred an unconscious unease within him. Beneath the sweeping hem of the Emperor’s robes, intricately gilded boots peeked out.
Before Kang's thoughts could catch up with his actions, his body had already dropped to its knees. His head bowed low, hands pressed against the cold floor as he spoke:
“Your servant, King Yeonghyeon, greets His Imperial Majesty, the exalted Son of Heaven….”
Before the sentence could be completed, a feather-light laugh rang out, piercing the tense air. Kang’s shoulders trembled as he stared at the ground, unable to stop himself from shrinking further. His entire body was paralyzed, unwilling to move.
This man was not only the ruler of this vast empire but also his father. Yet how had he now become the Emperor’s concubine? The decree naming him Hee-bi felt like an arrow lodged in his mind, leaving no room for any other thought.
Confusion and fear roiled within him, yet the Emperor seemed utterly unbothered. No father could respond so serenely to such an absurd situation, Kang thought. His broad shoulders, typically steady as a mountain, now trembled like a frightened prey.
Noting Kang’s quaking form, the Emperor smiled faintly.
“Are you afraid?” he asked in a teasing tone.
Kang exhaled shakily, suppressing his rising panic as he softly replied,
“…Yes, Your Majesty.”
The Emperor’s playful expression shifted slightly, though his smile remained. Resting his hand on his chin, he let out a bemused sigh, adopting a facade of exaggerated contemplation.
“That’s strange. I’ve never once treated you harshly, yet here you are, trembling. What frightens you so much? Becoming my concubine?”
Kang’s breathing faltered, his breaths growing shallow before stopping altogether. Eyes wide and filled with trepidation, he fixated on the Emperor’s gilded boots as they advanced toward him, only to vanish beneath the hem of the robe. When his view finally reached the Emperor’s strong thighs, concealed by the luxurious fabric, it was abruptly interrupted.
The Emperor, moving with deliberate authority, seized Kang’s arms and pulled him to his feet. His grip was firm to the point of pain, and Kang let out an involuntary whimper.
“Ah…”
This display of dominance was unlike anything Kang had ever experienced. The Emperor had never handled him this way before. Startled, Kang instinctively attempted to pull away, his resistance weak but genuine. Yet his gaze faltered, caught by the Emperor’s striking smile—a serene curve of his lips, the corners arcing gracefully downward like a painted crescent.
“You shouldn’t be this easily scared,” the Emperor murmured in a low, almost hypnotic tone. “After all, you’ll have to assist in governance... and bear your father’s child, no less.”
Kang’s confusion only deepened as those cryptic words sank in. Before he could respond, something warm and soft pressed against his lips—a kiss. The Emperor’s lips were gentle yet insistent, and soon a moist, pliant tongue traced his lower lip with a sensual slowness.
Kang, almost reflexively, parted his lips to let the Emperor in, recalling how he had been taught to submit in his youth. Seizing the unspoken permission, the Emperor deepened the kiss, greedily drawing in the delicate, untainted flesh of Kang’s mouth. Their tongues entwined, and the wet sounds of their embrace filled the otherwise silent room.
“Mm… ah… wait—! Mmph….”
Kang’s muffled protests melted into the intimacy, his voice drowned by the fervent exchange of breath and the Emperor’s unrelenting desire.
Kang’s hands trembled in midair, unsure whether to grasp the Emperor’s back or retreat altogether. They hesitated, curling slightly, as though the enormity of the situation was too much to bear. His lips tingled with an unfamiliar heat, the sensation foreign yet strangely intoxicating. The shared breaths left his throat tickling, and though his lips felt sore from the pulling and sucking, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Like a child obediently taking medicine, Kang’s tongue tentatively explored the Emperor’s mouth, but the sudden flood of sunlight through the partially open window snapped him out of his daze. Alarmed by the physical reaction stirring within him, Kang pulled away abruptly.
A thin thread of saliva still connected them, glistening in the light before the Emperor teasingly licked it away. Kang’s breath came in shallow gasps, his chest heaving as he brought trembling hands to his face, a futile attempt to conceal his shame.
“Kang-ah.”
The Emperor’s voice, low and rich, sent a shiver down Kang’s spine. The name fell from his lips with an intimacy that felt wholly inappropriate. Kang’s body tensed as he processed the weight of what had just occurred—his face drained of color as realization struck.
“A-Abamama … I… I…” Kang stammered, his voice trembling as he tried to cover his lips. But the Emperor did not permit it.
Gently but firmly, the Emperor pushed Kang back onto the bed, his hands sliding under the loose sleeves of Kang’s robes. His fingers, strong yet deliberate, traced over the taut muscles and soft skin of Kang’s arms. The touch was far from innocent, and Kang, who was no fool, quickly understood the Emperor’s intent.
“No!” Kang gasped, slapping the Emperor’s hand away with a forceful motion. The sharp sound of the slap echoed through the room, and for a brief moment, an icy silence fell.
The Emperor’s gaze narrowed, his eyes glinting with a dangerous mix of irritation and amusement.
“Abamama!” Kang exclaimed, falling to his knees before him. “I am your son! How… how can I possibly become your concubine? There must be a mistake. This can’t be right!”
Desperation laced Kang’s voice as he lowered his head to the ground, his words spilling forth in a frantic plea. He prayed for the Emperor to correct this absurdity, to dismiss the decree as a cruel joke or a misunderstanding. But deep down, Kang knew better.
The Emperor watched him with a detached expression, his patience wearing thin. Were it anyone else, his restraint would not have lasted this long. Had it been another, the Emperor mused, he might have already taken what he desired without concern for decorum or timing.
With a sigh, the Emperor leaned down, his fingers tilting Kang’s face upward. His thumb brushed across his son’s cheek, admiring the striking features he had so often looked upon with pride—smooth, fair skin contrasting beautifully with his dark hair, large and gentle eyes that now brimmed with fear, a high nose, and full, inviting lips. Lips that, moments ago, had tasted so sweet.
“You’ve misspoken,” the Emperor chided, his voice soft yet firm as his hand moved to Kang’s neck. The touch was no longer subtle, the caress filled with unmistakable intent. Kang’s eyes widened in terror as he realized the Emperor’s restraint was slipping away.
“Do not refer to yourself as soja[1] anymore,” the Emperor said, his tone chillingly final. “From now on, address yourself as shinch’eop[2].”
[1] This son. Kang almost always addressed himself as soja when talking to the emperor
[2]. This concubine. Usually, an address used for the concubines of the emperor.