CHAPTER 8
The Royal Betrothal Ceremony
The palace courtyard had been transformed into a breathtaking vision of crimson, gold, and moonlit silver. Silken drapes fluttered gently in the evening breeze, and lanterns—some glowing with faint traces of magic—lined the path leading to a raised pavilion. There, two intricately carved thrones stood side by side, waiting.
Nobles, ministers, soldiers, and palace officials gathered, whispering behind their sleeves. Some murmured in curiosity, others in disapproval, and many simply watched in anticipation. The air was thick with tension—and history in the making.
Muwon arrived first, dressed in ceremonial royal robes of deep navy trimmed in gold. A majestic phoenix was embroidered across the back of his hanbok, symbolizing his status as crown prince. He walked with steady confidence, his expression calm—but his gaze fixed firmly on the entrance.
Then, the murmurs grew louder as Sihyun appeared.
Escorted by Yuhyun, Sihyun walked slowly down the aisle. His hanbok was a contrast of shadow and starlight—black fabric that shimmered silver in the light, adorned with subtle patterns that evoked the phases of the moon. His hair was tied neatly, a rare sight, and he walked with his head held high, even as the gazes of the court pierced him like daggers.
At the far end, Muwon's eyes never left him.
Sihyun reached the pavilion, and Muwon held out his hand. Sihyun stared at it for a breath, then took it.
The crowd stilled as the King rose from his seat.
"In the light of the moon and in the name of the crown,"
the King said, voice steady and echoing,
"I, the ruler of this kingdom, give my blessing to this union. Let it be known that I stand witness to the bond between my son, Prince Jin Muwon... and Sihyun, last of the demon sorcerers, whose courage has served this kingdom more than many born to it."
Gasps stirred through the nobles. Some bowed their heads respectfully. Others clenched their jaws.
The king stepped forward and placed a ceremonial pendant around Sihyun's neck—a moonstone embedded in silver. Another, etched with the symbol of the phoenix, he placed around Muwon's.
"This union is not one of convenience nor politics,"
the King added.
"But of choice."
Gift Exchange came next.
Muwon held out a small wooden box, carved with the same moon-and-fire motif. Inside lay a delicate ring, shaped like a vine wrapping a silver thorn.
"It's not royal gold,"
Muwon said softly, only for Sihyun.
"It's something I carved myself... when I realized I didn't want anyone else."
Sihyun blinked, surprised. Then, without hesitation, he reached into his sleeve and produced a smooth, round magic stone. It shimmered softly with warmth—his own protection spell.
"You don't have to wear it,"
Sihyun mumbled,
"Just don't lose it."
Then came the Tying of the Ribbon.
High Priest Sangwook stepped forward, face unreadable. Though part of the elders, he dared not defy the King's decree. He held out a **ribbon—red and silver—**and gently wrapped it around their joined hands.
"This ribbon symbolizes the joining of two fates, two paths, two truths,"
the priest intoned.
"Bound not by blood or power, but by will."
The priest raised his hands.
"By the will of the heavens, under the blessing of the moon and the crown, this betrothal is now sealed. May your union endure."
Cheers erupted from some nobles. Others clapped out of duty. Somewhere among the crowd, Dohyun could be heard whistling loudly.
Muwon leaned in, whispering close to Sihyun's ear.
"You didn't run away."
Sihyun gave a faint smirk.
"Too late for that."
The palace courtyard had been transformed into a scene of gentle grandeur. Ornate lanterns swayed in the evening breeze, casting golden glows across polished tables lined with embroidered silk. Beneath the wide canopy, nobles in formal hanbok murmured in polite conversation, while servants moved like whispers between them, carrying silver trays of warm delicacies.
At the head of the gathering sat Muwon and Sihyun, side by side, robed in ceremonial attire—their hands occasionally brushing under the table. Sihyun's expression was unreadable, somewhere between composed and quietly overwhelmed. Muwon's gaze, however, never strayed too far from him, a soft glimmer in his eyes that even the ministers couldn't ignore.
A long table was filled with symbolic dishes: glistening slices of tteok, stacked rice cakes in shades of white and pink, sweet yakgwa, bowls of steaming broth, fruits arranged like cascading flower petals, and tender braised beef glazed with honeyed soy. Everything glowed under the lantern light, a table built on blessings.
A royal musician plucked gentle chords on a gayageum, the sound winding like silk through the garden. Nearby, a pair of court dancers began a slow buchaechum, fans opening and closing like butterfly wings in a practiced rhythm.
"Eat,"
Muwon leaned over slightly, whispering into Sihyun's ear, a teasing edge in his voice.
"You didn't eat during the ceremony."
"I didn't starve either,"
Sihyun murmured, lips twitching as he carefully picked up a piece of jeon with his chopsticks.
"Too many eyes."
From the next table, Yuhyun raised his cup slightly in Sihyun's direction, eyes glinting with quiet pride. Beside him, Dohyun was already halfway through his third cup of rice wine, nudging Taejin with his elbow.
"I give them a week,"
Dohyun whispered, loud enough for Taejin to snort into his drink.
"A week for what?"
"Before Muwon proposes again just to make sure the first yes was real."
Behind them, nobles offered toasts. One by one, elders came forward with courteous bows, their smiles polite but their eyes calculating—especially Elder Baekjin, who watched Sihyun like someone sizing a thorned flower.
When it came time for the king's gesture, a small chest was brought forward—filled with gold ornaments, jade combs, and a scroll sealed in the royal insignia.
"A gift from His Majesty,"
the royal advisor declared, laying it before the couple.
"A blessing for peace and longevity."
Sihyun looked at the box, then at Muwon.
"Should I open it?"
"You already said yes,"
Muwon whispered.
"I'm not scared of anything anymore."
Sihyun lowered his gaze. For a moment, he forgot the feast, the whispers, the dancers, and the scheming elders. He let himself be present. In that moment—with food, music, and cautious joy all around—he almost believed this peace could last.
While laughter echoed in the courtyard and music danced in the air, a silent corridor deep within the palace held a different kind of gathering.
Torchlight flickered along the aged stone walls as five shadowy figures moved quietly through a hidden door near the east wing, behind the hall of relics. The servants had been dismissed. The guards were stationed far enough to hear nothing.
In a small circular chamber, lit by a single hanging lantern, the elders took their places. Each wore their formal attire, but their expressions had long discarded the pleasantries.
Elder Minister Hwan Baekjin stood at the center, fingers resting on his cane, though his voice held more power than his posture.
"So it's done. The demon sorcerer said yes."