The festival was a grand spectacle, a celebration of colors, music, and joy that spread across the capital of the kingdom. Lanterns swayed gently in the autumn breeze, casting golden light across the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the avenues, their tables piled high with fragrant foods, sparkling trinkets, and exotic wares. The air was alive with laughter, drums, and the singing of minstrels. For most, it was a night of joy — but for Dik, it was an irresistible temptation to escape.
For weeks, Dik had lived a life cloaked in rules, under the strict gaze of the palace. His days were filled with lessons, duties, and the constant whispers of servants. Though he was the son of the king, his life felt like a gilded cage. That night, he could not stand it any longer. His heart yearned for freedom. Without warning, he slipped away from his chamber, careful not to wake the guards. His servant, Min, caught sight of him just as he stepped into the moonlit garden.
"Your Highness! Please, do not leave! It is dangerous!" Min pleaded, running after him. But Dik only shook his head, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Tonight, I am no prince. Tonight, I am free."
Min sighed and watched helplessly as Dik vanished into the crowd.
Dik's journey led him far from the palace into the bustling streets. The festival crowd was thick, and he moved silently through it, dressed in plain clothes he had stolen from a servant. Fearful that soldiers might recognize him, he ducked into a narrow alley and spotted a brothel glowing with lantern light. It was a place of music and laughter — a place where no one would question a disguised traveler.
He stepped inside, slipping into a room filled with painted smiles and soft laughter. To hide his face, he wrapped himself in a flowing veil and donned women's garments he found in a corner. For a moment, he allowed himself to forget who he was. But fate had other plans.
Sen Ruyon — the general's son, infamous for his arrogance and prowess — happened to be at the brothel that night. His sharp eyes fell on Dik almost immediately. There was something unusual about the quiet figure in the corner. Curiosity pulled him closer.
"You there," Ruyon called, his voice cutting through the laughter. "Why hide your face? Why dress like this?"
Dik froze. His heart raced. He knew the risk of being discovered. But he kept silent.
Ruyon stepped closer and gripped Dik's wrist. "Reveal your face," he demanded.
Dik shook his head. "No."
Ruyon smirked, twisting Dik's wrist effortlessly and yanking the veil away. In an instant, the hidden truth was revealed. Birthmarks scarred Dik's pale face — intricate patterns of red and silver. The marks were a secret he had always hidden. Around him, whispers spread like wildfire. But Ruyon only laughed, leaning closer.
"You are a man," he said, his tone teasing. "Why dress like a woman? Are you trying to seduce me?"
Dik flushed but said nothing. Before he could reply, chaos erupted.
The room trembled under the sound of shouts. Five assassins, clad in black, burst into the brothel. They moved like shadows, swift and deadly. Dik, startled and untrained in combat, stumbled backward. The crowd panicked. Min, who had followed Dik secretly, tried to intervene, but he was pushed aside.
Ruyon's eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, he drew his blade. In a flurry of movement, he struck down the first assassin, then another, then another — each blow precise and merciless. His blade sang with deadly grace. Dik watched in awe and fear.
Suddenly, an assassin lunged toward Dik. Ruyon shoved him aside, lifting Dik into his arms. Dik resisted weakly.
"Stop! Let go of me!" Dik cried. "Soldiers will protect me!"
Ruyon's eyes flashed with contempt. "Why? Are you some noble? A son of rank? I have never seen you. So tell me — who are you? You should count yourself lucky I saved you tonight. I have never saved anyone in my life until now."
The words were laced with both mockery and intrigue. Dik stared at him, breathing heavily. Pain shot through his hand where it had been twisted during the scuffle.
"What did you do to my hand?" Dik hissed, pulling away.
"You'll live," Ruyon said coldly, smirking. "Consider it a lesson."
Dik winced, tears of pain welling up in his eyes. For the first time, he felt fragile, weak — stripped of the dignity he had always clung to.
By the time soldiers arrived, the fight was over. Ruyon, with practiced ease, had eliminated the assassins. Yet the noise had alerted others. Dik's elder brother arrived, his face pale with worry. He rushed to Dik, taking him into his care.
"You must return to the palace at once," he ordered. "The king will be furious."
Dik glanced back at Ruyon. There was something unreadable in his expression — a mixture of amusement and something deeper. But Dik said nothing.
As they left the brothel, Ruyon's voice followed him. "Remember, prince, you owe me this night."
Dik's heart pounded. He did not know why, but he felt as if fate itself had shifted in that moment.
Later, in the quiet of his chamber, Dik lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The veil of his disguise still lingered in his mind. The world outside was filled with danger, power, and secrets. And somehow, that night at the brothel was only the beginning.
He did not yet understand it, but Ruyon's presence would change his life forever.
In the palace
Dik returned to the palace with a storm in his heart. The corridors, usually filled with quiet majesty, now felt heavy with the weight of his frustration. As soon as he stepped into his chambers, he threw himself onto a velvet divan, pulling Min, his closest servant, aside without ceremony.
"Min!" Dik began, his voice sharp, almost trembling with irritation. "Do you know what kind of man Sen Ruyon is? Rude… self‑centred… arrogant! He thinks the whole world revolves around him, and that includes me. He has no respect for anyone who stands in his way!"
Min, ever patient, bowed his head slightly. "My lord…"
Dik cut him off. "No, listen. That night—when he grabbed my hand—I felt it burn. My hand, Min! Red as if it were wounded. And he wasn't even holding me tightly. Do you understand what that means? He thought nothing of it. No apology, no concern—only that cold, superior gaze of his. And yet… he acted like he was showing care." Dik's voice lowered, a mixture of rage and disbelief. "Does he think that makes it better? That he can call it concern and erase his arrogance?"
Min stayed silent, knowing his master's temper would not rest until he had spoken his fill. Dik continued pacing the chamber. "A man like him, claiming to be the general son… yet so blind to his own flaws. He has no respect, Min. None at all."
He paused and looked at his servant with a glare. "I swear, I will not forget this. I will speak of it again and again. Let him hear me—let him understand what he has done."
Meanwhile, far away in the quiet , Sen Ruyon reclined in his chambers, speaking softly but with a sharp edge to Kai, his loyal servant. The flicker of candlelight painted his face in shadows.
"Do you know what kind of man Dik is?" Ruyon asked without preamble, voice calm but filled with tension.
Kai looked at him cautiously. "My lord?"
"He is weak," Ruyon said plainly. "Weak in body and will. His hand was red the other night even though I was not holding him tightly. How can a man a so‑called Prince be so fragile? It is unnatural."
Kai frowned. "Do you truly believe that weakness matters so much?"
Ruyon's lips curled slightly. "It matters because it defines him. Strength is not just muscle—it is endurance. That man cannot endure without faltering. And yet… I wonder. Even when I caused him pain, there was something in my grip that gave me pause. A flicker of worry." His voice softened for a moment. "It is infuriating, Kai. To feel concern for someone I despise… and yet cannot forget."
Kai remained silent, sensing that his lord's words were more than simple criticism. Ruyon leaned back, eyes narrowing. "A man like Dik—fragile, stubborn, and unyielding in his pride—is not easily forgotten. I will watch him still."