Ryu’s expression subtly hardened. He grasped the hand that had pushed against his chest.

“Haven’t I said that it’s through you I intend to fulfill my duty?”
“Your Majesty…”
“Sukbi.”
He called her firmly. It was the first time. The first time he had ever addressed her by her court title.

Yeon realized it in that moment. She truly had become Ryu’s concubine. Not anyone else’s—his. And she would live the rest of her life as such.

She didn’t understand how she had become his woman. Ryu had always been small, someone she had needed to care for. Even after he grew taller than her and his shadow began to loom over her, he still seemed like a child to her, like a boy.

“In nineteen days, Your Majesty will have a wife.”

Yeon said gently, trying to reason with him.

The Empress was the Emperor’s rightful and only wife.

A concubine was merely a secondary wife. No matter how grand the title of ‘Sukbi’ sounded, Yeon had never considered herself to be Ryu’s wife. Soo-in had always been his wife, and always would be.

Yeon felt no envy for that position. She didn’t desire it.

Although she hadn’t wanted it, she had become pregnant with the emperor’s child. Now that she had become a concubine, her only wish was to fulfil her duties faithfully.

That was all she had ever wished for in life:

to serve Ryu well and support Suin sincerely.

Even if that life brought her no joy as a woman…

“Song Yeong-han is dead.”

Lately, the name had kept surfacing in her mind.

There had once been a man who had made her dream of having a family and leading a normal life.

But he was gone. He had taken his own life.

Now, that name was a source of guilt for her.

And so—

“Yoo Seol-yeon.”

“This concubine’s child will not become Crown Prince, Your Majesty. I am not your wife.”

Yeon drew a clear, unwavering line.

Watching Ryu’s face crumble was heartbreaking, but preventing something even worse was paramount.

She gazed steadily at the hardened, stern man before her.

She was no stranger to Ryu’s angry face.

“I am merely a concubine. Even if unforeseen circumstances lead to Your Majesty’s child inheriting the throne, you must cherish your empress and ensure she bears your rightful heir.”

Yeon lowered her gaze.

With every word that left her lips, a strange chill spread through her chest.

She couldn’t quite understand where the dull ache came from.

Before the pain in her heart could take root, she steadied herself.

This was the right thing to do.

Wasn’t this what she had been working towards all along?

Supporting Ryu so that he could stand firm as a sovereign.

Ever since the age of nine, her life had been tied to his.

And so…

“A wench talks back like she’s speaking righteously…”

A cold voice suddenly rang in her ears.

Yeon cautiously lifted her head.

A large hand seized her chin roughly.

Without groaning, she was pulled towards him.

“Your Majesty.”

“You should focus on being an obedient concubine.”

“…”

“How much longer must I tolerate you?”

Ryu’s lips twisted.

Yeon froze, her breath catching in the presence of the man whose coldness felt like solid ice.

Ryu often spoke of his patience with her.

Yet wasn’t she the one enduring?

Still, he insisted—he was waiting for her, that he loved her with all his heart.

And yet, never had he seemed so crude.

Yeon bit her lip faintly.

Ryu pushed against her chest. She stumbled back weakly, hunching her shoulders.

“Take it off.”

The man ordered him in a low voice. Yeon stared at him blankly, then obeyed without a word.

What followed was her first experience of such humiliation and degradation: being gagged without resistance.

***

Nineteen days passed.

Yeon’s belly had slightly rounded—just enough that it felt as though a soft layer of flesh had gathered there. Even though she hadn’t been eating much.

Since that night, Ryu had kept her confined to Hwain Palace. Now and then, he visited to check on the baby’s condition, but never stayed more than a moment.

He never made conversation. Only asked, “Are you well?” “Is the baby doing fine?”

And each time, Yeon replied modestly, “Yes.”

That was all.
Ryu asked nothing more. He never held her roughly like he had that night.

If he had wished, he could have had her again without taking her fully—but he didn’t.

He acted as though his only business there was to fulfill a duty, like she was just a court lady who had become pregnant after a single night’s mistake.

The lust had burned out, and what remained was obligation. It was as if that alone called him to her now.

Yeon tried to steady her restless heart. This was the right thing, she told herself. This was how it was meant to be.
Hadn’t she been waiting for a time like this. When he would stop hovering around her, always clinging and teasing?

‘This is how it should be.’

Perhaps Ryu was finally detaching himself from her. With a proper empress about to enter his life, it made sense that he would start to come to his senses instead of clinging to an older woman eight years his senior.

There was no reason to feel sad. There was no reason to feel regret. Yeon had been loved more than she ever deserved. Even before she turned twenty, when she was just a young nanny, people were already referring to her as Ryu’s favourite.
The young emperor’s affection had been intense.

Perhaps she had become somewhat arrogant as a result.

She believed that Ryu would always be her child. The love that had once overwhelmed her had turned stale.

‘Foolish thing.’

Yeon stared at the morning light shining through the round window, then lowered her gaze.

Nineteen days had passed since that night. Today was the day that Suin was due to enter the palace. In other words, it was Ryu’s wedding day.

Early that morning, at the behest of the Grand Empress Dowager, Yeon had prepared the ceremonial robes and made her way to Yanmyeong Hall with the court maids.

Ryu stood waiting, his expression composed.

“Your Majesty.”

Yeon forced her subdued emotions into a polite greeting. But Ryu gave no reply.

Yeon remained silent. A court lady brought out the wedding robes and Ryu opened his arms.

Without looking at him, Yeon performed the prescribed rituals and helped Ryu into his garments.

Dressed in the Wonryeongpo and belted in formal attire, Ryu looked far more imposing and handsome than usual. Yeon tried not to stare at him with unfamiliar eyes.

Still, her heart kept pounding. Her stomach churned. She felt slightly dizzy. She kept telling herself that there was no reason to feel this way.

This wedding — his wedding — was inevitable. It was something she had long known would happen. And yet, standing before a man not in ceremonial court robes but red wedding attire, it felt strange.

His pale, immaculate face stood out sharply against the vibrant crimson that seemed to constrict her throat.

Yeon didn’t let it show, though. She poured her focus into perfecting his appearance. She straightened the golden embroidery on his collar and adjusted the position of his sash. Suddenly, their eyes met.

Her breath stopped.

His features, shrouded in quiet gloom, were sharp and beautiful, like carved jade. But they were also cold and indifferent.

There was no trace of joy on his face. He wore the same unflinching, emotionless expression that he had had on the night he took her.

Yeon parted her lips slightly. She thought he might say something. But Ryu simply looked down at her, seeming bored and indifferent.

The skin under her eye twitched. If he was going to lock her away and never come back, why had he treated her like that?

It was more than just confusion; it was resentment.

‘What was the point of it all?’

Yeon gave a faint shake of her head, trying to dispel her sharp, spiralling thoughts.

It was useless; her feelings, whether resentment or doubt, no longer mattered.

She bit her lip.

Now draped in the dignity of an empress, Suin wore a hwachae gwan — an ornate coronet delicately adorned with gold and jewels, and featuring dragons and phoenixes.

Her usually pale, slender neck was adorned with a pearl and gold collar, and a red mongduhong veil draped over the coronet concealed her face.

Even so, the elegance and grace emanating from her poised demeanour could not be concealed.

Yeon stood waiting in her formal concubine robes.

Royal weddings, especially the Emperor’s, differed from both civilian and noble customs.

There was no chinyeong ceremony, in which the groom fetches the bride himself.

Nevertheless, the Emperor kept his betrothed waiting for a long time.

Suin should have entered the palace as Empress years ago and should have borne several heirs by now.

However, Ryu had delayed, making excuse after excuse to avoid marrying her. This undermined the standing of Seoguk’s Ministry of Public Works.

Eventually, the Grand Empress Dowager ordered Ryu to bring his wife home.

Ryu did not refuse.

He personally escorted Suin from the Ministry of Public Works back to the palace.

Yeon watched as Suin descended from the palanquin.

Suddenly, that night came back to her. The night Ryu had become cold.

Yeon had always had a habit of convincing herself that the more serious something was, the less important it became.

It was as if it were a defence mechanism, an instinct to shield herself from the full force of the shock.

That night, she finally understood what it meant to be used — not loved, but toyed with.

The s*xual encounter was devoid of affection and was all about domination and humiliation.