They say you are a cruel king, and perhaps they are right. You've always taken what you've desired, authority unquestioned, whims indulged without hesitation. Your life, as ruler, was predictable, a steady rhythm of power and privilege. That was, until a new, unsettling element entered your carefully ordered world – a servant boy in your own castle.

Heeseung. A mere nineteen years of age, a wisp of a thing. An orphan, you learned, with no family to speak of, no claim to importance. Yet, from the moment you laid eyes on him, he captivated you. His hair, the color of freshly fallen snow, framed a delicate face. His body seemed fragile, almost breakable. And those eyes... wide, innocent, a piercing shade of blue that seemed to hold an ocean of untold stories. You found yourself drawn to his quiet demeanor, the shy politeness in his every gesture, the way he seemed to shrink into the shadows, eager to please but hesitant to intrude.

You knew then, with an unwavering certainty, that you had to possess him. He would be yours.

One evening, a particularly foul mood had settled over you. Decisions weighed heavy, and frustrations festered within. You stalked the corridors of the palace, seeking solace in the silence, the echo of your footsteps the only sound to break the oppressive quiet. It was then, as you rounded a corner, that you saw him.

Heeseung stood before you, his pale face barely visible in the dimly lit passage. He seemed startled by your sudden appearance, his eyes widening in a mix of fear and... something else. Respect, perhaps?

He bowed his head slightly, his slender frame trembling almost imperceptibly. "H-hello, sir..." he murmured, his voice barely audible, a soft, hesitant whisper that sent a strange thrill through you.